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Duff shouldn’t be here.
He shouldn’t be sucking his bandmate’s cock in the room next door to his other band mates, with the walls so thin.
But he figures this isn’t such a bad place to be when you think of the other options… on the streets, fighting, paying for a fuck, selling, getting high. Okay, maybe he’d done a few lines earlier, but that’s just protocol. Who blows their friend sober?
And maybe Izzy looked a little too good tonight, with hair dripping sweat and chest gleaming from where he refuses to finish buttoning up his shirt. And yeah, his cheeks were a little redder than normal, and his breath wasn’t all there, and he looked like he’d been fucked for the better part of two and a half hours. Duff was pretty sure death flashed before his eyes when they walked off stage and he got a good look. It wasn’t as if he fantasized about getting the guy’s dick down his throat constantly, but Duff was curious, and Izzy was so fucking pretty , and, honestly, could anyone blame him?
“Duff -”
Wrecked. Voice absolutely wrecked, and Duff isn’t sure why, but it’s enough to make his own cock press harder against the zipper of his jeans, and the pain from the rigid metal is almost too much, but it’s the only friction he has, so, fuck , it feels good.
“Hm?” Comes out around his dick, head nearly touching the back of the bassist’s throat, and Izzy sighs, head turning into the pillow. He wants to respond, say something, anything, maybe you feel so good or where did you learn to suck cock or what a good whore . Any of those would do but he’s currently brain dead and fisting a hand into bleached hair.
Duff’s surprised he even gets one word out of him, and his pride is swelling as he hears a soft moan, and there he goes, sucking like he is a paid whore, like he hasn’t got anything else to do for the rest of time except suck that flushed, red, aching cock of some stupidly beautiful gypsy fucker who doesn’t know when to just quit .
He pulls back, though, doesn’t really know why, and neither does Izzy, who looks like he’s maybe been shot, barely on the brink of what would have been a pretty great fucking orgasm. “Uh, you forget how to use your mouth?”
Duff sucks in a breath. Fuck .
“No, man, no, just - ah, fuck... “ he laughs, licking his bruised lips, and his voice is gone, a constant rasp. Izzy is confused and horny and honestly just wants to kiss him. “Just… fuck my mouth, dude.”
Izzy breathes a chuckle and rests his arms above his head on the bed for a moment, body stretched in a way that Duff really doesn’t fucking appreciate, especially with the way it makes his cock twitch inside of his jeans. Still untouched, but he’s pretty sure he could bust a whole load just watching Izzy lay like that, pale flesh so exposed , ready to be claimed. Fuck .
“You really are a slut,” he mutters, and Duff flushes down to his neck, hiding his smile against Izzy’s pale hip, letting his tongue run over the bone nearly breaking through the skin. So thin.
“Maybe.” Izzy grins and runs his hand through the man’s hair, tangling blond and black around his fingers, and then pulls , hard, leaving Duff gasping and smiling like he’s mad, and he is. God, he is. All for Izzy.
“Come on. Make yourself useful.” Duff lets out a sigh, doped up and fucked out, and he feels a little dizzy from the rest of his blood rushing to his dick. He doesn’t waste a second before wrapping his lips back around Izzy, both of them moaning. Izzy lets him set his pace for a few moments, get his jaw working again, and then he’s grabbing Duff’s hair harder and starting to raise his hips. He’s slow for the first few, and Duff nearly rolls his eyes before Izzy starts fucking his mouth hard, fast, the head of his cock hitting Duff’s throat with each thrust. “Yeah… that’s it, fuck.”
Duff, poor Duff. Aching in so many places, body begging for something , eyes leaking, throat closing up, and it’s too good, just - too good. Being used for Izzy’s pleasure and nothing else. A fucking dream come true, if you ask him.
A gagging sound brings Izzy out of his trance, and he pulls Duff up so he’s only sucking on the tip, licking everywhere, tonguing at the slit, while Izzy runs his own hand up and down his base. Duff is making little noises, so fucking ready to taste him and feel him, and he’s rubbing his hand against himself, trying to get off while Izzy bucks into his mouth, once twice, and fuck –
“Duff, shit… yeah , baby,” Izzy grunts out, spilling himself into the bassist’s mouth, who’s moaning and swallowing around his cock almost desperately, hands clawing at Izzy’s thighs as if asking, pleading for more, more, more.
Duff finally pulls away as he softens in his mouth, looking completely fucked (and quite heavenly, Izzy thinks), lips and cheeks red, breathing heavier than he had at the show.
“Jesus, man,” Izzy chuckles tiredly, resting his arm over his forehead as he strokes the side of Duff’s face, chest rising and falling rapidly as he smiles to himself.
“Don’t you mean baby ?” Duff teases, and they both grin as Izzy nudges his side with his knee.
“Fuck off… heat of the moment.”
“Whatever.” Duff smiles and nuzzles against Izzy’s thigh before the brunette starts pulling him up. “What–?”
“Your turn… baby .”