He could hear that the crowd was about to hit fever pitch out front. Showtime was T minus two minutes, and counting. But Chris' mind wasn't on the show.
Two pairs of insistent hands had him pushed up against the cool brick of the dressing room wall, one popping the buttons on his jeans, the other firmly across his mouth to silence the protestations, both holding him still as he struggled rather half-heartedly.
'Shut the fuck up, man!'
'Jees, you swing by to wish a guy good luck, and this is the reception you get.' The pair of them rolled their eyes dramatically.
'You couldn't have just sent flowers?' Chris attempted to ask from behind a hand.
Part of him was thinking, 'Fuck! Just not now, guys,' but the rest of him knew full well that there was no point in trying to argue with David and James when they were like this - hyper from an entire weekend of fuck-knows-what, and ready to throw caution to the wind.
Shit, he'd been drunk for four days straight now himself!
Satisfied that he'd stopped trying to fight them, they dropped to their knees in front of him, making Chris stifle a moan. With his jeans around his ankles, there was no getting away from the fact that however much he'd tried to protest, his cock clearly had other ideas.
James and David exchanged the most lascivious look as his erection sprang free, which just made Chris even harder. Then they went in for the kill, and it was all he could do to close his eyes and hang on for the ride.
Taking his cock between them, they took it in turns, sucking, licking, nibbling and kissing until Chris felt his knees begin to buckle. Plucking up the courage to finally open his eyes and look down, he watched their tongues entwine sensuously around him and each other, locked in the world's most erotic kiss.
'Oh shit…' he breathed, trying to imprint the image on his brain, not knowing when he'd get the chance to be in this position again. If ever…
'Chris! We're on - get your ass down here!' came the familiar voice from the bottom of the stairs.
He tried to reply with something along the lines of, 'Just gimme a minute,' but all coherency seemed to have gone out of the window.
'Oh-oh, I guess playtime's over then,' David grinned as they both came up for air.
Before Chris had a chance to gather his thoughts, which seemed to have leaked out of his head along with his brain, James had moved to one side a little, and David was suddenly deep-throating Chris' cock for all he was worth.
'Oh god… fuck. Yessss…'
He fisted David's hair and fucked his mouth, groaning as James stood to kiss him hard.
As an exasperated voice yelled, 'What the hell are you playing at, Chris? Get the fuck down here, now!' he was riding out an orgasm that almost blew his head off.
If it hadn't been for the whisky-smoke lips against his and the tongue in his mouth, then the temptation to yell back, 'Coming!' would have been just too great!
A scramble of clothes and hurried kisses later, Chris was bounding on stage to raucous applause and screaming, the world's goofiest grin plastered helplessly across his face…
"Do I look like something you can put in a fucking cage?"
There was clapping and cheering as the music stopped, but Chris waited. Waited until a hush fell over the audience in anticipation.
Slowly, seductively, he approached the microphone.
They knew it was coming. Some of them even knew what was *really* coming. But none of them knew who he was singing it to. He smiled.
"Come over here and suck my dick!"