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you drew first blood

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Vinny joined this tour to play drums and vibe with his new friends, not have a sexuality crisis. And yet. Here he is.

They’re all of two shows into Soundwave. Vinny is just trying to have a good time in case this is his only tour with these guys. Considering how hard he beefed it in his audition. Y’know. He’s only really here because they had no other options. Even then he only got the audition because he knew Balz. So he really mostly just wants to make the most of being in fucking Australia even though his mom is pissed at him for only telling her he was leaving the day before they flew out.

It’s just that Chris is really distracting.

Vinny isn’t into dudes. At least he doesn’t think he is. So he’s choosing to blame it on Chris looking like a girl. But. He could probably be down to make out with Chris. And he’s definitely more of an ass guy than a titties guy and Chris has a bigger ass than any man he’s ever seen, as well as a not insignificant number of women. So maybe he’s just got some wires crossed funny up in his brain. Whatever. It is what it is. And if Chris is hot and wears pants that look like they’re made out of rubber then Vinny cannot be entirely culpable for his own thoughts and feelings. Okay.

And so when Chris is wearing a pair of shorts and laying on the couch and they’re riding up enough that Vinny can see he has these weird horizontal line bruises on his thighs. He blurts out the question before he can really think about it.

“What are those bruises from?” Vinny asks, and Chris looks up from his phone at him.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Uh,” Vinny says, considering backtracking, but he has no idea how to talk himself out of this. “On your legs. The lines.” Chris’s face goes pink.

“Oh, uh,” he says, pulling his shorts to cover them up. “A friend. Y’know. Who’s a girl.”

And Vinny’s able to connect some dots there with a little mental math and ah.

“Oh,” Vinny says. “So it’s a sex thing.” And Chris huffs a laugh at him, pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah,” Chris says. “Y’know. From a cane.”

“Yeah, totally,” Vinny says, despite having no idea what Chris is on about. “Cool. That’s cool.”

And maybe Vinny googles some questionable shit on his phone, and sure he’s seen a few videos on the ‘hub, but he’s 19. He’s allowed to not know things when he has slept with exactly two people in his life. Neither of whom were into hitting him with sticks, but that’s neither here nor there.

Chris just seems to appear in the dressing room with those stupid shiny pants on. Vinny never actually sees him put them on, and frankly, Vinny is not sure how it’s physically possible. He just resigns himself to the fact that Chris just appears with them on, Vinny has to look at his back side the whole show, and then Chris disappears again and when he shows back up they’re off him. He’s back in that pair of The Ghost Inside basketball shorts he’s always wearing.

“Where do you even get pants like that?” Vinny blurts one day, when Chris walks into the dressing room. And Chris laughs and so does everybody else, either because they also don’t know or they do know and it’s funny that Vinny doesn’t. Either way.

“Fetish gear store,” Chris says, and Vinny nods stupidly. “Same with the belt and the boots. I think half my tour wardrobe is actually like, weird BDSM clothing. Pants are custom though cuz I had to get ‘em made extra tall.”

“Word,” Vinny says. “You go get into some big ass shrink wrapping machine to put ‘em on?”

“He fuckin’ shaves his legs so he can wear those fuckin’ things,” Ryan says from the couch, where he’s busting open a new pack of cigarettes.

“Most high maintenance piece of clothing I’ve ever seen,” Ricky says, shoving his fingers into Ryan’s pack to steal one. Ryan smacks the back of his hand but Ricky takes one anyway.

“Yeah, but they look good,” Chris says. “But yeah, I gotta fuckin’ put lube on my legs like a weirdo to get them on.” Vinny is nodding but not entirely processing all this because he’s still stuck on Chris shaves his legs and also how did he not notice that, but here we are.

“They look really cool,” Vinny says, which is the least gay thing he can say at this second.

“See,” Chris says, “that’s vindication. All worth the powdering and the lube and the special ordering cuz I’m too tall.” He pats Vinny’s back. “You can stay if you keep validating my expensive aesthetic choices.” Vinny scoff laughs.

“And not because of my impeccable drumming skills,” he remarks. “Got it.”

And so Vinny goes busting out of the dressing room to go find Balz. Who is at catering. Predictably.

“Balz,” Vinny says, rushing over to him, and he turns around just in time for Vinny to knock into him.

“Christ,” Balz says, grabbing Vinny’s shoulder. “You good? You look fucked up.”

“Is Chris, like, uh—“ Vinny starts, but he pauses. They’re definitely in the middle of a bunch of band and crew though. Vinny gestures vaguely. Balz looks at him. “Y’know.” Vinny settles on his best limp wrist.

“Oh, a bisexual disaster?” Balz asks. “Yeah. Obviously.”

“Okay, word, thanks,” Vinny says, and then he's gone again.

Vinny minds his own business for the rest of the night. Or at least until he catches Chris in the hallway outside the dressing room after the show.

“Hey, so,” Vinny says, and Chris stops, looks at him. His hair is still wet, hanging in front of his face. Mouth red from being mashed against the microphone all set. Stupid shiny rubber pants. Vinny stutters conspicuously. “Uh. So. How long you been into weird freaky sex shit?” Real smooth, Vincenzo, he thinks.

Chris blinks at him. “Sorry?”

“Like, yknow,” Vinny says, even though now he would like to shrink into a bug and run under the nearest closed door, but it is sure out there now so he has to own it, “how you get tour clothes at the kinky shit store. I forget the letters.”

“Are you asking about BDSM?” Chris asks. He’s not currently flipping out on him so maybe Vinny will live to finish this tour, but given this is probably the only time he is ever going to be able to spend an extended period with Chris, if he’s gonna shoot his shot he gotta do it now.

“Yeah, that,” Vinny says. Chris looks behind him down the hallway.

“I don’t know. Forever, I guess.” Chris shrugs and Vinny nods, clasps his hands together. He opens his mouth but then realizes he didn’t plan what to say after asking that so he closes it again. “You’re eighteen, right?”

“Nineteen, since two months ago,” Vinny says. Chris sighs.

“Are you asking me because you think you might be into kinky shit and you want me to beat you up so you can be sure?” he asks, his voice lowered. Well. At least Chris said it for him.

“Ideally, yes,” Vinny says. Chris looks at him, looks at the dressing room door, looks down the hallway again, and then back at Vinny.

“C’mere,” Chris says, grabbing Vinny’s arm and yanking him into the dressing room. “Have you even watched any bondage porn or anything?” he asks, and Vinny notices him locking the door and jamming the doorstop in underneath it. Noted.

“Yeah, a little on like, Pornhub,” Vinny says. “Mostly cuz Sasha Grey was in it.”

“Listen,” Chris says, putting his hands on Vinny’s shoulders. “Was there a castle at the beginning of the video?”

Vinny looks at him. “Huh?”

“A castle,” Chris says. “A shot of a castle at night in the middle of a city.” Vinny thinks.

“Yeah, pretty sure,” Vinny says. Chris sighs.

“Good, then at least it was decent,” he says. He pats Vinny’s shoulders. “So. Balz didn’t tell me you were queer too.”

“Well, that is also a new development,” Vinny says, pushing his hair back off his face, which he can feel is burning. “I definitely haven't like. Been with another dude.”

“Jesus Christ,” Chris mumbles. “So that’s two firsts.”

“Are we doing this?” Vinny asks incredulously, mostly because he can’t believe that fucking worked.

“Only if you want,” Chris says. He lets go of Vinny reflexively. “I just. I wouldn’t want you to end up having a really bad first time doing kink related shit and then have it all get ruined for you, y’know — like, you’re nineteen and dudes are creeps and god forbid you end up on Fetlife—

“What’s Fetlife?” Vinny asks.

“Don’t ask,” Chris says. “Just.” He sighs. “What did you want to try?”

Vinny thinks about it.

“Honestly, I did not think about that part,” he admits. Chris laughs, smiles a little.

“You want me to just do some stuff I like and you can decide how you feel about it?” Chris asks, brushing a hand over Vinny’s hair. Vinny tilts his head into the contact.

“Sounds good,” he says. Chris holds Vinny’s jaw a little.

“So I’m not gonna like, ignore you if you say stop or no or don’t or whatever, but if you’re like, done, say ‘red’. That cool?” Chris asks.

“Whatever you want,” Vinny says, and Chris swallows visibly. Brings his other hand up, brackets Vinny's head in his hands. Vinny seems to relax instantly.

“I’m still gonna ask you to do stuff rather than order you around though,” Chris says. “Wanna kneel for me?” Vinny nods quickly, rushes to get down to his knees. Goes to look up at Chris but Chris is already leaning down, hands braced on his knees, face close to Vinny’s. “You look really cute like that,” Chris says, touching his face again. Vinny sighs into it.

“Thanks,” Vinny says. Chris pats his jaw.

“Is it okay if I slap you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Vinny says, and Chris smacks his cheek, just enough to sting. Vinny nods, urges him on, and Chris hits him again. Shit. Vinny should not be as into that as he is.

“That’s working for you, huh,” Chris says, and Vinny can feel himself blushing because he’s totally already getting hard.

“Definitely,” Vinny says. Chris slaps him again with the other hand, grabs his neck, and Vinny’s breath catches.

“I’m not gonna choke you for real,” Chris says, his fingers digging into Vinny’s pulse. “This okay?” Vinny just nods, lets Chris smack him one more time. Chris still has his hand around Vinny’s throat when he kisses him, and Vinny whimpers rather embarrassingly, reflexively bringing his hands up to Chris’s sides, and Chris grabs his wrists. “Uh uh. Keep your hands on your knees. Got it?”

“Sorry,” Vinny says quickly, planting his palms on his thighs. He tries to ignore the pounding in his chest and the rush of blood to his head.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Chris says, squatting properly down to Vinny’s level. “I should’ve been clearer that I don’t want you touching anything I don’t tell you to touch.” His face is still so close to Vinny’s, and Vinny swears he can still feel his piercings against his mouth.

“Okay,” Vinny says, nodding. “Is there something you want me to call you?”

“Nope,” Chris says. “No fancy honoraries. Anything I shouldn’t call you?”

“Uh,” Vinny says. It’s hard to think, on his knees with Chris’s mouth so close to his. “I don’t think so. I’ll tell you if you say something I don’t like.”

“Perfect,” Chris says. “We’re just trying stuff here, y’know. Keep communicating with me and we’ll be good, yeah?” Vinny nods and when Chris kisses him again, Vinny feels like the air gets sucked out of him. Chris holds Vinny’s neck again, opens his mouth to let him in, and Vinny kisses him back, hums into it. Chris’s other hand is in his hair, grabs, pulls his head back, Vinny gasps softly, lets Chris pull him till he has to arch his back.

“Fuck,” Vinny murmurs, shifting a little.

“Put your hands on the floor behind you,” Chris says. Vinny adjusts, feeling exposed to Chris, even though he’s still fully clothed. Chris stands again, grabbing the nearest chair and dragging it to sit in front of Vinny. Vinny’s panting but he doesn’t even know why. Chris plants his boot on Vinny’s thigh. “This alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Vinny says, voice coming out labored.

“Breathe,” Chris says, leaning forward in his chair. Vinny takes in a long breath. “There you go. You still good? Still with me?”

“Yeah,” Vinny says. “I’m good. I’m.” He pauses. He asked for this, but it still feels humiliating to admit. “I’m into it.”

“I can tell,” Chris says, his boot moving up closer to where Vinny’s legs meet, and he flinches. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Spread your thighs.” And Vinny has to fight the instinct that tells him to close them, but he does it. Parts his knees out further, and Chris lays the sole of his boot into Vinny’s cock through his pants, just enough pressure to feel it. Vinny keens. “If you wanna rub off on my boot then go right the fuck ahead, but you gotta ask me for permission to come, got it?” Chris says, and Vinny shudders at the way Chris’s voice drops.

“Okay,” Vinny says, pushing up into the flat sole of Chris’s boot. He huffs out a breath, his stomach churning with embarrassment. He ruts up into the pressure, aching in his jeans, not enough stimulation. He hadn’t even been thinking about the orgasm, just the mere idea of submitting, maybe letting Chris spank him or choke him. His dick wasn’t really part of the plan. Chris lets him grind into his boot for another moment before he pulls it away and Vinny whines.

“That’s enough,” Chris says. “I want you to take your clothes off. All of them.” Vinny nods, sitting up to pull his shirt off. Chris extends a hand and takes it, folds it while Vinny works on his jeans. As Vinny strips, Chris takes each piece of clothing and neatly folds it and places it on the table next to him, till Vinny is kneeling naked in front of him. He’s only embarrassed for a moment, till Chris leans down and kisses him again, sliding his hand down his sternum. Vinny chokes a little when Chris’s other hand is suddenly on his throat, thumb digging in below his jaw. “You can still breathe,” Chris whispers into his mouth, hot breath, and Vinny inhales, constricted by Chris's grip, a quiet wheeze. “Fuck, that noise is so hot—“

“Please,” Vinny gets out, his mouth hanging open, and Chris licks his tongue.

“Use your words,” Chris murmurs. He eases his grip and Vinny swallows hard. God, he doesn’t want to have to ask, thinks he might die if he does.

“Please touch me?” Vinny asks softly.

“I am touching you,” Chris says, raking his fingernails down Vinny’s chest. Vinny shudders hard. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“Can you.” Vinny pauses, whines. “Can you please. Touch my dick?” His face burns and Chris grins, so close Vinny’s eyes can barely focus on him.

“Of course, baby,” Chris says. “I just wanted to hear you ask me.” He leans back, offers Vinny his hand. “Spit.” Vinny sucks in on his jaw, lets the spit drip into Chris’s hand. “Little more. Gimme as much as you’d want if you were jerking yourself off.” Vinny nods, spits again, and Chris shifts forward again, reaches down, grabs a hold of his cock where it hangs between his legs. Vinny jumps a little at the contact, shuddering and sighing as Chris starts working him.

“You’re so fucking hard,” Chris says quietly, his free hand bracing on Vinny’s shoulder. “You should see your fucking face; you’re making me wanna do terrible fucking things to you—“

“Please,” Vinny says, feeling himself throb in Chris’s grip, “I want you to—“

“Nah, not now,” Chris says. “Not your first time. You think you want me to go hard on you but you don’t.” Vinny’s fingers are digging into his thighs, desperately wanting to grab onto Chris, climb into his lap, make out with him forever—

“Fuck,” Vinny chokes out, and Chris pulls his hand right off on the upstroke, leaving him jerking at the air, missing the contact.

“Turn around for me,” Chris says. “You got a cute butt. Lemme see.” Vinny looks at him.

“Were you looking?” he asks, and Chris laughs, which. Vinny can’t help but smile at.

“Obviously,” Chris says. “C’mon. I wanna see it.” Vinny bites his lips together as he turns over onto all fours, faces away from him. Feels a little swell of confidence as Chris grabs a handful of his ass, squeezes just on the painful side of tight. “Yeah, that’s a nice ass.” Chris brings his hand down onto it, spanks him. Vinny’s mouth falls open. That somehow went straight to his dick.

“Do that again,” Vinny says, “please.” Chris hits him again, on the other side this time.

“My fucking pleasure,” Chris remarks. He brings down both hands this time, smacks his palms down the sides of his thighs. “Back that ass up into my lap; I could spank it for days, Christ—“

“I don’t know if I really wanna do butt stuff yet,” Vinny says quickly, and Chris rests his hand on his tailbone.

“We aren’t gonna,” Chris says. “I just wanna get your ass up so I can reach it better. That okay? I’m definitely not gonna start sticking stuff in your butt when I don’t have lube on hand anyway.” Vinny looks back at Chris. Yeah. That makes sense. He nods.

“Okay,” Vinny says. Chris hasn’t even so much as taken his belt off. “You gonna take any clothes off?”

“Nope,” Chris says. “It’s to help you feel more submissive cuz I get clothes and you don’t. That make sense?” Oh. Okay.

“Totally,” Vinny says.

“Might take my dick out though. Never know.” Vinny laughs. Yeah. He hopes so. “Alright, I got your hips, pedal back for me—“ Chris instructs, and Chris lifts his hips, so Vinny backs up on his hands as instructed, till he’s laid out over Chris’s legs, sat backwards in his lap, straddling him. The arms of the chair dig into his calves a little, but it’s not unpleasant. “You can hold onto my legs,” Chris says, sinking down in his chair and pulling Vinny up closer, and Vinny’s almost fully supported by Chris’s long body. Chris’s hands grab at his ass, spread him open with his thumbs, and Vinny shudders.

“You can hit me harder than you were,” Vinny says, adjusting his hand on the floor. He plants his other hand on Chris’s boot.

“If I start hitting too hard just say so and I’ll lay off it,” Chris says, and he gets right to it. Chris is smacking the hell out of Vinny’s ass, his hand hitting in the same place over and over and just as Vinny thinks he’s gonna have to tell him to back off, he switches to the other side. Vinny pants, crying out when Chris brings both hands down hard at once. “Your ass is starting to get red; you’re doing so good—“

“Thank you,” Vinny gasps out, as Chris’s palms keep slapping at his skin. He writhes a little when Chris brings his hands down to hit the backs of his thighs.

“Y’know, when you squirm in my lap like that, you’re just rubbing yourself on my dick through the latex,” Chris says.

“Is that a good thing?” Vinny asks, genuinely, and Chris laughs.

“Definitely,” Chris says. “I’m gonna switch to my fists and see if you like how that feels.” Vinny gasps as the flat of Chris’s knuckles thud through his ass. Chris punches again, harder, and he feels it deep in his hips. Vinny keens, lets Chris keep pounding his hands into him. “Now you’re really getting red.”

“That feels fucking good,” Vinny says, still a little surprised he likes getting punched in the fucking ass cheeks so damn much.

“Yeah, I really like getting punched too,” Chris says. He goes back to the flat of his palm. “Y’know what I’d be really into?”

“What?” Vinny asks, mainly because he’s not sure what he can do from down here.

“If you spit shine those boots for me,” Chris says, smoothing the cool back sides of his hands over Vinny’s hot skin, making him shudder, “I might give you a nice reward for that in the form of making you come.” Frankly, even without the incentive, the idea of getting his tongue all over Chris’s boots suddenly sounds like the most appealing thing in the world.

“Yeah, I wanna lick your boots,” Vinny says, sliding down Chris’s legs a little, and Chris supports his weight while he lowers himself to a boot, laves his tongue over the toe.

“Fuck. That’s exactly it,” Chris says, scraping his fingernails over Vinny’s red ass, and the sharp sting makes him cry out. “Good boy; keep that up.” Vinny keeps dragging his tongue over the PVC, up the insole, over the toe box, as Chris keeps spanking him. Vinny’s gasping, panting, achingly fucking hard, but the way Chris has him arranged, he can’t get any friction or pressure where his dick hangs between Chris’s thighs. “C’mon, other boot feels lonely,” Chris says, holding onto Vinny as he moves to the other leg, lays himself into it, goes right to licking that one. He’s not spanking him anymore, and Vinny hears this weird crinkly squeaky sound, then hears Chris spit. Fuck. Fuck. He must be jerking off back there. Vinny wiggles his ass a little, laps eagerly at his boot. Chris moans low in his throat behind him.

“Chris,” Vinny says, keening, desperate. “Can you — can I jerk off too?” Chris smooths his free hand down Vinny’s spine.

“Come up slow,” Chris says. “Sit up in my lap. You can sit back too if you don’t mind my dick against your ass.” Vinny laughs softly, walking his hands up Chris’s legs to help him sit up, Chris reaching around to support his chest. His head still spins, but he isn’t dizzy. Vinny just scoots back in Chris’s lap, feels his cock slot right into place up against his hole, and Vinny moans a little. Chris breathes hard, pulls his back to his chest, and Vinny leans back into him as Chris reaches around to grab his dick again. “Fuck, you’re dripping all over yourself already—“

“Fuck,” Vinny gasps, rutting up into Chris’s grip, feeling Chris’s length dragging against his skin. Chris hums against his shoulder.

“You keep grinding into my cock like that I’m gonna come all over that ass,” Chris murmurs, and Vinny starts rocking his ass back against him in earnest, fucking up into Chris’s fist just as much. “Fuck, you must be fucking desperate, fucking my hand like that—“

“Oh god,” Vinny chokes out, his head falling back onto Chris’s shoulder, and Chris mouths sloppy at his throat. Between Chris’s grip on his dick, Chris’s own cock hard against his ass, the burn and the drag of his spanked raw ass, Chris sucking at his throat, and the taste of PVC still lingering in his mouth, Vinny’s almost positive he’s gonna come so hard he dies.

“Good boy,” Chris says, his voice wavering, clearly just as into it. “Ask me to come.”

“Please,” Vinny pants, “please can I come—“

“Come for me,” Chris says, and Vinny comes undone on the spot, crying out as he jerks up into Chris’s fist, spills over his knuckles, onto himself, panting, gasping for breath, and then suddenly Chris’s arm is hooked around him, keeping him still. Vinny’s still riding it out, rutting into Chris’s lap. “C’mere,” Chris says, and Vinny comes down from it slow, resting his head back. “Breathe. You look like you spaced out there.” Vinny blinks away the blur in his eyes, cranes his head to push his nose into Chris’s cheek.

“I feel like I just did a fat bong rip or something,” Vinny mumbles, slurring. Chris laughs.

“Yeah, endorphins will do that,” he says. “You wanna clean my hand off for me?” Vinny sees Chris’s hand in front of him, come dripping over his tattooed fingers. He doesn’t answer, just pulls his hand to his mouth by the wrist and starts sucking his mess off each digit. “Fuck’s sake. Could come just watching you do that.” Which.

“Want me to keep grinding on you like that?” Vinny asks around Chris’s fingers, and Chris huffs at him.

“Shit, yeah, if you want,” Chris says, and Vinny starts rolling his hips again, not letting Chris take his fingers out of his mouth. “Fuck. Vin.” Vinny’s quiet, lets Chris dig his fingers into his tongue. “Is it bad I’m thinking about you riding my cock for real?” Chris asks, and Vinny laughs once in response.

“I’m kinda thinking about the same thing,” Vinny says, shifting his weight forward. Planting his hands on the arms of the chair, focusing on rubbing his ass on Chris’s cock.

“Jesus Christ, Vin,” Chris mumbles, dicking up into the crease of Vinny’s ass, his hands covering Vinny’s on the chair arms. “Close. Fuck. Keep riding it.” Chris’s voice cracks, his breath catching, and then his moan breaks in his throat as he comes. Vinny feels the sticky slide of it against his ass, hot and wet, almost like his reward for doing so well. Chris pulls Vinny back in against his chest as he ruts and bucks against him, riding it out, his face buried into Vinny’s neck.

And they stay there. For how long, Vinny doesn’t exactly know. But when Chris pulls Vinny upright with him when he sits up, Vinny’s breath is even. Back to normal.

“Was that good for you?” Chris asks. “I didn’t do anything you didn’t want or like?”

“Obviously,” Vinny says, his throat feeling raw somehow. “That was fucking awesome.” Chris laughs.

“That’s definitely an endorsement,” he remarks. “Stand up and I’ll help you get dressed. We’re probably super late for bus call and I haven’t even showered—“

“You say that like the bus doesn’t stink like gross men anyway,” Vinny says. He gathers his clothes from the table where Chris had left them. Which. He’s oddly thankful he doesn’t have to track down all his clothes all over the room or anything.

Once Vinny is dressed and Chris has fixed his pants, which Vinny learns he can’t wear underwear with and he will now be stuck with that knowledge forever, Chris kisses him again. Vinny doesn’t expect it, as closed mouth and sweet as it is.

“If you ever want to try—“ Chris starts to say, but Vinny cuts him off.

“Next hotel,” Vinny says. Chris bites into his lip.

“Cool,” he says. Based on the look he gives him, Vinny’s pretty sure he’s already got a million more terrible ideas. Vinny’s more than fine with that.