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Paul knew what was happening, he saw what they were doing- and like hell, he was going to just let that happen. He might not be the band leader but he was not some fucking doormat. No, Paul McCartney was a very, very determined young man, and nothing would get in his way, and there was nothing he wouldn't do. He was going to the toppermost of poppermost.
Compare to dwelling in those windowless rooms in a country where he didn't speak the language, this was actually- not distasteful. It did take a little bit of mental gymnastics on his end to make him 'want' to do this. He couldn't come in and just barely be willing to tolerate it. He had to be better than John had been. He had to be good. And he did want this, he wanted what doing this would get him, and that would have to be good enough. He would make it good enough.
He steeled himself and knocked on the door. There was silence- confused silence, Paul imagined. And then in a hesitant voice a, "Who is it?"
It wasn't a 'come in' but that didn't stop Paul. The door was unlocked and so he stepped inside, "It's Macca." He locked the door behind his back with a flick of his wrist as he looked at their manager. Eppy'd taken off his jacket, taken off his tie, unbuttoned the top two buttons, and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Perfect. Paul had wanted to get him when he was comfortable, with his hair 'down' so to speak.
"Hello Paul, is there anything I can do for you?" He was polite and prim, despite Paul barging in here at this hour without explanation.
"I was- I was wondering if we could talk. About some things..." Paul knew what he was doing was underhanded, but everything about tonight would be and John had done the same.
Eppy was good enough to invite him to sit down at the hotel's table- just as Paul hoped. The talk wasn't the important part- well, Paul would make it too- but more important was getting a few beers into him. The bassist didn't want to get his manager completely soused, just- a little loosened up.
As he was rather a lightweight, it happened quickly enough, just two beers in. Paul dragged his chair over, so they were sitting closer together, knees touching, as they continued talking. And then Paul- turned the conversation, made it suggestive. He didn't know what would work, what gay men, or this man in particular liked to hear. It was a little hard to tell because the alcohol had already made him flushed, and talking about sex made that worse.
Still, he had to give it his best shot. He focused mostly on himself, how he felt, and the lads. There really hadn't been any privacy and they really had given George a standing ovation when little boy Geo had become a man. Mostly to tease the fuck out of him- but that didn't mean what had come before hadn't been hot. Paul had enjoyed it, but not because he was watching a man fuck, Geo was just the part of the scene that made the bird react.
"Christ, that bird was so fucking loud. She didn't need to dance behind that window, when she could make noises like that- and at that volume. And so of course, you know John, he had to compete with her. Had to be even louder, even lewder, making these wet, gasping moans."
Eppy audibly gasped, crossing his legs together. *Got him!* Paul smirked and leaned in, with how they were sitting it was so easy, and then they were sharing a breath, their mouths only a few inches apart. "Did I say something, Eppy?" His tone was wicked.
Eppy tried to get a hold of himself, straightening his back and leaning backwards into the chair, tugging down his shirt from where it'd ridden up. But all that did was make Paul's gaze drop. He couldn't be sure that wasn't just a fold in the man's trousers, but that didn't mean he couldn't act as though he knew it was more. "I- Paul- I must apologize. It's- It's late and I've been drinking. I don't mean- to make you uncomfortable." Eppy avoided eye contact as he stared just to his left instead.
Less prim and proper and a little more depressing with how Eppy, and how his kind, must have been treated in the past. Paul had no interest in tormenting the man like that, with things he wanted but couldn't have- well he did if what Eppy wanted really was John. Paul got out of his chair, but only to kneel onto Eppy's chair and lower himself so his face was close again.
"You aren't making me uncomfortable."
Eppy's eyes snapped to him, wide with shock and- was that hope gleaming in their depth? "No?"
"No. Am I making you uncomfortable?" And Paul curled a hand around Eppy's neck as another landed on his thigh- high on his thigh. Paul hadn't meant to be that suggestive, but he hadn't wanted to break the intense eye contact to position it correctly.
"No. I- Paul are you sure? We don't have to...?" Eppy leaned in ever closer, their lips were almost brushing against each other, Paul could feel the heat of the other's breath against his skin.
"Have to? No. Just want to." And then they were kissing, they had both moved to close that distance. Paul kissed him for a moment, their mouths had been half open when their lips had pressed together and so it was natural to open up wider and escalate to using their tongues. Eppy moaned into his mouth. Paul fluttered his eyes open, this kiss wasn't bad. No different than kissing a bird, he could barely feel the man's stubble even this late at night. But he wanted to open his eyes to see Eppy's expression. Wanted to confirm what he was hoping had worked. Eppy's eyes were closed, and his face was one of bliss. He was loving this!
Paul closed his eyes and pressed more insistently. This was nice enough but he had no interest in snogging for long. Paul wanted to deliver more, and conveniently his hand was right there. He swung his other leg onto Eppy's lap and then well- just coincidently had moved his hand to avoid squishing it.
He- He wasn't quite brave enough to move it to the epicentre of Eppy's thighs, but he did put it on Eppy's chest to help balance himself. Had to enjoy all that flat real estate while he was here. "Hi," Paul knew how his voice could get husky when he spoke lowly like this. He rubbed the thumb of his other hand against the thin hair at Eppy's nape.
"H-Hello," Eppy stammered, still flushed in the face as he looked up at him- partially with worship in his eyes. Looks like that wasn't just for John, and Paul couldn't just bring that out in groupies.
Paul tried to lower his hand, or to grind their bodies together, sliding up against the man- but everything was all wrong. This position was terrible for anything. He was much too close to squeeze a hand between, and too above him to rub their clothes cocks against each other. His brow furrowed at his failure. Looked like his powers of seduction could only take him as far as snogging. Everything with a man was different after all.
"Here," Eppy whispered, never one to shame them. Paul was seemingly only used to his mates who used any sign of weakness as an excuse to rib each other. Eppy dragged him even closer, how could that-?
And then Paul and Eppy were chest-to-chest, the angle even starker for them to kiss, and their cocks rubbing not against each other, but Paul's against Eppy's chest, and Eppy's... against his arse.
Paul gulped. He was willing to do much, to do *almost* anything, but not this. He could not, would not bottom. Just feeling it there was freaking him out. He wasn't a Nancy boy. He stood up in a rush, taking a step back, pressing himself against the table, where their left over beer bottles wobbled.
He took a deep breath. That was fucking uncalled for. It's not like he thought less of Eppy for bottoming. Someone had to do it, just logistically speaking. Hell, he thought less of Eppy for preferring classic music and jazz than rock 'n' roll or skiffle, much more than he ever cared about their manager being a poof. "Sorry I just- Got startled. I know you weren't-" Hell they were still clothed, of course it's not like feeling Eppy's cock, feeling a man's cock for the first time in this context, meant he was going to fuck him right there and then. "I just don't want that, uh I mean, for later," he gestured to the bed, "and I just- kind of got startled."
Eppy was looking at him with wide eyes and his hands up like before a bizzy. "I understand. I'm sorry. I don't mean to rush you. We don't have to do anything more tonight- or ever!" Eppy was quick to reassure him.
He probably had had to do that a lot with John. But Paul wasn't John, he took a deep breath and went to straighten his shirt, but hesitated with his hand on the hem. "That's alright. I'm alright. I'm good to continue." And as though to prove his point, he lifted his t-shirt above his head. He was happy he'd taken off his buttoned-up because this was always so much easier, and he didn't have to worry about it wrinkling. It was also nice because instead of the slower reveal of a button up, that wouldn't be as impactful, it was a larger singular one.
And it certainly was impactful. Eppy was practically drooling. Looking and being allowed to look- to truly look and appreciate. Paul was no Adonis, no athlete, but was still a trim, fit young man. And it felt nice to be looked at like that, whether it was from a bird or from a man. If anything because Eppy was a little older, and more experienced, it felt even more complimentary. With all he'd seen, he still appreciated what Paul had.
It did however leave Eppy useless, just sitting there, staring. Enjoying himself but not stripping himself. Paul focused on how confident and nice it was to be looked at like that, as to not let himself grow self conscious. He was a little daunted but only because this was new, he wouldn't let himself back down, fear would not win, Paul would win.
Rather than say anything, Paul reached out to the man, putting a hand on his chest and ran a hand over his buttons. Stating his intent rather than actually being helpful to remove it. "I-oh," and now Eppy was getting with the program. It- didn't do anything for Paul. He'd seen men shirtless thousands of times. Even the idea that this shirtlessness meant imminent sex didn't help. But that was okay, because this was about Eppy's pleasure not Paul's. And Paul did imagine he could get himself off as he and his left hand had a million times before. External stimuli need not apply.
Eppy's fingers ran down the lines of buttons and then Paul's hands were there to push off his shirt, slide it down his arms and let it fall to the ground. Eppy looked like he was going to bend down to pick it up for a moment but Paul just held him by the biceps and gazed at him with intent eye contact. Paul was more important than the shirt. And Eppy agreed, licking his lips and getting close to the man again.
Urgh, more snogging? Paul wished they could hurry things up a little, but he supposed that couldn't be how a first-time seduction worked out. And kissing him really wasn't that bad, it didn't feel productive towards his goal, but it was and Eppy was- really into it. For whatever reason, prejudice toward lavenders perhaps, he had thought Eppy would be tender and gentle. But he was insistent and passionate. Far from a shrinking violet, and not easing Paul into his first time.
This was fine and fair, Paul hadn't told him this was his first time because then he'd have to mention his fears and his doubts, and there couldn't be that. Paul ramped up his kissing of Eppy, his aggressiveness, to match his energy. It never occurred to the young man that Eppy might have not minded, or even liked someone like John's hesitance or nervousness about something so new. Not because he particularly cared for virgins but because of what it meant that they wanted to cross that hurdle for him, make the effort for him.
Paul's hands were locked around Eppy, an arm curled tightly around his back and another in his hair. He didn't feel there was any need to roam or grope, lacking the obvious curves he was used to. The angle of kissing someone this tall was new and fun, so much that Paul got lost in the action until he'd pushed the manager backwards so much they crashed into the wall.
Detaching from the kiss Paul gasped and looked into chagrin eyes. Wha- Paul had to focus and stay on task. It was true he enjoyed kissing but that wasn't what he was here for, and he feared he was lingering with this part because it wasn't so different from doing it with a bird. What came next might have been new and foreign to him but he was determined all the same.
They looked at each other and Paul lowered one of his hands down Eppy's arm. Eppy looked at him, a little stunned and shocked before looking down. At where Paul's hand was now holding his. Alright then, maybe Paul was doing this all wrong if he got that reaction. Paul knew how to be tender and sweet, just because Eppy responded to that kissing with some heat didn't mean McCharming couldn't lay it on thicker.
It felt- silly and strange to do this with a grown man, men weren't supposed to like romance, it was supposed to be only for the birds. But Paul loved romance and Eppy was a queer, so Paul just tried not to overthink it as he brought the hand up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact the whole time, and kissed the back of it. It was a simple gesture, yet it totally made the birds swoon. Eppy's reaction was more of a quiet gasp, and it was hard to read a blush on his flushed face, but he didn't seem to mind, so Paul would have to keep that in mind.
Then, the actual purpose of holding hands in the first place, Paul led Eppy into the bedroom and to the perfectly made bed. Still holding on, Paul used his free hand to shuck the blanket and open up the tightly fitted sheet. An unmade, open bed, as good as a blank canvas, or a lone guitar for him.
He turned to look at Eppy, who was looking at him and at the bed. The man seemed... nervous? What did he have to be nervous about? But that was not a helpful thought, and so instead Paul pretended he was with a bird, and thought what he would do to comfort her. Which meant kissing again. It was very convenient that Paul didn't find that distasteful.
This time when Eppy made the kiss grow hot and passionate, Paul didn't match him, just the opposite, he pulled away and denied him, his mouth growing more closed together. Eppy's eyes fluttered open in question to find Paul's already open, not the most romantic to keep your eyes open while kissing, but Paul was more interested in the man's reactions than savouring the kisses.
"Are you okay? You seem nervous?" Paul asked honestly. Eppy's arms had come up but not to hold Paul, to hold himself, wrapping them tightly around his middle.
"I just- I don't understand- I don't know... what you want?"
Paul lifted a brow, "I thought... that would have been obvious?" He looked at the bed once more. He certainly wasn't going to tell the man out loud that he wanted the same preferential treatment John got. He was going to imply it if needed, get very close to the line, but wasn't planning on actually prostituting himself as some kind of quid pro quo. Just- greasing the wheel, giving a little bit of sugar, to make Eppy think fondly of him, build some goodwill.
"I yes- but I mean why? What- changed? Why now? What...?" Eppy looked- afraid. Paul rubbed his hands firmly down the man's back. He looked- like he thought Paul was playing some terrible, cruel prank on him. As though he was offering this only to rip it away. That- might have been one strategy. Make Eppy want him, think he could have Paul, and then withhold it so he could get what he wanted. Paul suspected that strategy would work but... he had no interest in being that cruel. To a certain extent, he was here to bribe the man rather than blackmail him, to give him want he wanted rather than deny him, and by that- get what Paul wanted. But how to convey this without outright lying nor outright telling the truth.
He couldn't... go as far as to claim to love the man. Paul didn't feel that way about his manager or any man, even the one in the world he was the closest to, John. He liked him- but as a friend, as a manager, as a professional, and as the person that looked out for them and took care of them. Regard. Fond regard for the man. But not love. Nothing like that, and so romantic declarations were off the table.
What about sexual ones? Could Paul have come to lust after him? Eppy was... a decently handsome man if you liked that type. Kind, charming, firm rather than strict, and capable, but still a good laugh from time to time. Right yes, Paul could focus on that. On how Eppy cared and took care of them, who didn't like that? Paul just had to be careful not to word it in such a way as to make Eppy sound like a parent. More like... a richer older man taking care of a younger lover. Oh, yes, that was very close. Paul was more independent, and hadn't wanted to be supported and taken care of like John had, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate it. Appreciate his workload being lightened because of a helping hand.
Now all he had to do was think about how he would talk about this with an older woman offering to take care of him, and his script came almost naturally. "I like you Eppy. I appreciate you and everything you do. You go above and beyond for us, and I..." No that sounded to quid pro quo, "I've never- This is- As you can imagine, I've not had that before, like this." Paul had grown up poor, far more than John, and leagues more than Eppy. All they'd had, his father had had to break his back to give them. "And you're nice to us Eppy, very good to us..." And then like a bolt of inspiration, he got an idea, but he didn't know if it was a good idea. "And I was hoping, that maybe you could give me a little more... be even better to me for... this. You don't have to, I just thought... we'd both enjoy it. And I could be good for you too."
Eppy didn't look afraid anymore, or even nervous, he looked self-assured and pleased. What a success! Paul was internally pumping his fist. "I'd love to do that for you Paul. I've been happy and honoured to work with you boys, and I'd... enjoy this. Enjoy... being with you like this, providing this for you."
Paul knew he was supposed to be doing the seducing, the pleasuring, but he got the sudden image of Eppy down on his knees, in those tailored trousers of his, with that red, wet mouth open wide and taking his cock. Christ. Paul really wouldn't mind being taken care of like that at all. And if Eppy was volunteering, Paul had no objections.
Their hands were on each other as they were kissing again and then sitting on the bed. This was nice, but now that that thought had been put in Paul's mind, he wanted it. He'd gotten a little chubby at the thought, and he wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off. He was torn between what he wanted, and what he thought Eppy might want. Did Eppy still need him to be tender, and take things slowly? Paul could, but he didn't want to.
What Paul wanted to was to figure it out by taking off his clothes, or touching Eppy's belt, to see if he wanted his off, but that wasn't actually the best way to figure this out. As much as he hated it, thinking with his cock more than his head, the best way was communication. Urgh. Paul was much better when it came to seducing with anything else. He could purr words of seduction into Eppy's ears, but none of those would be about boundaries or current state of mind, they'd be pretty filthy. Still, couldn't hurt as a middling step only- only he wasn't quite sure what to say. Him being a man changed everything.
Paul detached his mouth but only to mouth down Eppy's neck, convenient that they'd removed their shirts so he could go as far as he wanted. He didn't though, not even as far as his collarbone, but then he could roll them over on the bed and present his neck so that Eppy could return the favour. Which left him just where he wanted, the man on all fours above him and his mouth occupied while Paul's was free. "Mmmm, yeah," Paul made sure to be loud and vocal, make his moans sound as wet and lewd as he could; but he still had to be careful not to ham it up and overdo it like John had that one time. Then because he was a little shit at heart like all his band mates he couldn't help but to add, "Be careful not to leave a mark, my manager doesn't allow that."
"You cheeky fucker." Eppy bared his teeth against his skin and bit him. Paul couldn't help but to laugh gleefully. Fuck, that wasn't very romantic of him to laugh in bed, but he really couldn't help it.* Then his hands were coming up and touching Paul's sensitive spots, not to tantalize but to tickle. Paul laughed and squirmed, doing his best to give it back as good as he got. They rolled around like that, mock wrestling, until they came to an exhausted stop, panting and giggling. Paul- felt funny inside. That hadn't been romantic, or sexual, but it had been... nice. Eppy- Brian was his friend so that shouldn't have been that surprising at all. They just- didn't normally bond or spend time like that.
"Brian," Paul felt weird using his name. He rarely used it and even thought of him as Eppy too.
Brian looked down at him with a soft smile, his hair mushed from the tussling and kissing. He was really a fine looking man. "Yes, Paul?"
"I-" But Paul had absolutely no idea where that sentence was going, and had no idea how the night had gotten so out of his control. He needed to put it back on track. He came here with a mission, and he was going to do that. So without being able to find the words, Paul just kissed him, this time with all the fierce, furious, passion in his raging body. Like Paul was turning up his amps to the max and slamming on his guitar, and it felt- invigorating.
Brian groaned at this, trying his best to match him as his mouth was violently invaded. It was time, do or die, Paul told himself as he stuck a hand down between them and pressed it against Brian's crotch, turning the groans into a long, drawn out moan, Brian's hands coming to wrap around his back. The man was only a little hard from their playing, so Paul would have to dedicate himself to it. He'd never sucked a cock before, and would be lying if he said he wasn't daunted by the process. Daunted yes, but not unwilling. He'd do a lot more for what he wanted.
He had however given countless handjobs. Mainly himself, but then all those circlejerks too. He knew how to please others than himself, even if the idea of how much more experience Eppy was with his countless lovers loomed. He made quick work of his fly and trousers, Eppy being so helpful as to lift his hips so Paul could shove them down past his hips. Paul didn't look down but he found his quarry all the same. Eppy had a nice, average cock that responded well to Paul's touch. While normally he didn't do this mostly naked on a bed, this wasn't that different to when they'd done it as teenagers. That had been because they couldn't get enough birds -could anything ever be enough for teenage boys?- but this too served a practical purpose.
Paul let go of Eppy's cock long enough to bring his hand to his mouth, staring at Eppy the whole time, as he licked his palm, making it wet. Eppy practically whimpered watching it, and then clenched his face tight in pleasure as Paul got his hand back around his cock. He stroked it slowly and tightly, the glide much more comfortable now that it was a little wet. But it seemed, Eppy enjoy that hint of pain. Mmm, Paul rather enjoyed giving that little pain. It was an awkward thing to ask of a groupie, but it organically came up from time to time. Like right now with his manager. Bending the man over his knee and spanking him, turning all that lovely pale northern skin red, pinching him, twisting and pulling at his nipples. Would he like that?
Paul was getting way ahead of himself, but now at least he was starting to grow hard. He knew this was a seduction, but he had hoped with how their previous convo went, that Eppy might be interested in giving as good as he was getting. But... maybe it was better like this. More 'desperate' and 'needy' of Eppy. Paul shifted his knees just a little to lower his bottom half but not his top as to not be chest to chest and make the handjob impossible. He lowered himself a little offset of Eppy to grind himself down onto one of Eppy's thighs. The man was hairless- seemingly everywhere but that thick, dark, bush over his cock. No hair on his chest, no hair on his thighs. Fuck, Paul felt like a bear compare to him, and yet to think he was the one that had the girly cute face.
When Paul ground down his cock onto Eppy's thighs, the man gasped, opening his eyes, as though being jolted back to his body. Thank God, Paul thought his cock would finally be touched. But no. "Paul- Paul- Paul-!" Eppy was grabbing his arms now rather than just holding on. Paul instantly let up, had he hurt the man? It didn't look like it, the man's expression was crazed, like he- like he was enjoying himself, like he wanted more? Had he... been about to come? Paul knew he wasn't a queer, so he wasn't going to enjoy this as much as the other man, but still... that was alarmingly fast.
"You- you need to," Eppy licked his lips as he tried to pull himself together enough to communicate- whatever was happening. He clenched his eyes tightly, as sweat beaded on his forehead, "Just the shaft. The tip- the glans they're- sensitive."
Paul looked down, fuck he was stupid. Men were rarely circumcised in England, but the Jewish were and he'd not encountered them before. Not in this context. It had honestly totally slipped his mind, he lowered his hand and made a few tentative strokes so that he wasn't abusing the man's more sensitive tip. The glans were a dark brown-purple, darker than the rest, and looking- swollen. Did it normally look like that? Had... Paul done that?
Paul worked just up and down the shaft, twisting his hand and then tilting his hand to grind his callouses against the delicate skin, "Is this... okay?"
"Yes, yes, I just-" Eppy almost had tears in his eyes as he clutched very tightly to Paul, almost tight enough to bruise. He was starting to ease up, to calm down, a mean feat when Paul had his hand on his cock. That must have hurt- or not only hurt. Eppy's cock wasn't slightly chubby anymore, it wasn't even at half mast, it was fully, rock hard, twitching in his grip.
Paul... did more than suspect that the man might like pain now. Even as his hand moved consistently, he lifted his index finger and extended it so that on the next pass he rubbed over the tip. Eppy nodded, he was ready for more now. So Paul worked his thumb and fingers over the tip on the next stroke, just a few like that to warm him up to it. Then he fingered more intently at his slit.
Eppy screamed out and moaned, "Ah, yes, yes, oh Paul. Please, please, more." And Eppy was blinking those lovely, beautiful eyes at him and Paul had no choice but to lean in and kiss him. So many of the aspects he loved with sex -with women- he could enjoy here, and pleasing his partner was top of that list. He loved how much he could affect another person, to directly see and often hear the effect he was having. It made him feel powerful and virile, turning him on and this was no different. All Paul wanted was more from him. Wanted to make the man completely come undone.
Paul nibbled and bite the other man's lips and tongue as he kissed more fiercely than before. His hand worked between their bodies furiously, Paul savouring it almost as much as Eppy, loving his impact on the stern, button-upped older man. Paul brought him up higher and higher, but he wanted to try something before stopping, before taunting and teasing the man with no more touching. He could feel in his fingers the itch, the urge to pinch.
It would hurt Eppy, yes, but that was the very goal. Paul bit down Eppy's jaw harder, but never did he react negatively to pain. He didn't pull away, he didn't ask with words or body language for Paul to stop or ease up. Fuck, Paul felt like he was drooling just thinking about it, his cock so hard. But Eppy wasn't some delicate bird and Paul could be a little rough, especially if his partner so clearly liked it.
Feeling a grin take over his face as he pressed up tight against Eppy's neck, he kept stroking Eppy's cock until on one upstroke he was in the perfect position to clamp the very tip of the tip between his thumb's nail and forefinger.
Eppy yelped, jerking back, his body going rigid, as he convulsed under Paul. His body under Paul yes, but also his cock in Paul's hand. Paul stared at the man as he came, watching how his expression was overcome with ecstasy, even as his hand did not stop. His grip remained firm and tight but he slowed down as he worked the man through it.
Paul... hadn't meant to do that. He hadn't meant to make the man come, he'd thought only to work him up good and proper before drawing back as to bring him to the edge and then taunt him. But he couldn't complain for he'd certainly liked the result all the same. Brian was beautiful like this, his head thrown back, his curls like a luscious halo rather than gelled so tightly into place, his cheeks rosy and flushed, his mouth open and wet, with heavy-lidded eyes. Paul felt it would be all too easy to have his next song feature some of this- this beauty, for surely 'this' could not be love.
Paul pressed closed-mouthed kisses as the man slowly relaxed, his accelerated breathing slowing down. He ran a hand through that fine hair and imagined what it might be like if he grew it a little bit longer like them. Maybe then Eppy wouldn't look so sharp with his suits, but Paul suspected it would suit him fine all the same. He really was a handsome man, and Paul enjoyed appreciating that for once. It was like he'd been at a buffet of desserts all his life, and now he was taking the time to sample lobster. He'd still love cake, but this was a... nice change of pace.
"Mmm-grhh," Eppy grumbled as he lifted a hand to cup Paul's face, the man slowly getting back to himself.
"Hello."
"Hi." They'd returned to their silly exchange.
"I hadn't meant to make you come, I'm sorry I didn't realize. I mean- you didn't warn me," Paul was under the impression that with age it got harder and harder, if not impossible, to get hard and come again in any reasonable amount of time. And that older men required more effort to get off. Paul sighed though because tonight was about Eppy and about what made Eppy happy. Still, it did throw a wrench into the plans and the man might be upset at them being thwarted so early. "I guess... there's always next time." Paul would have liked to do this tonight so that he need not get daunted about it later, and to build himself up more goodwill with Eppy that he'd wouldn't have to return so soon. But now that he had actually done it, he found it far less of a chore to be endured, and was even pleasurable and straightforward. Didn't have to worry about her gabbing to the press, or getting anyone pregnant. Eppy blinked at him slowly, enjoying the thought of a next time. It was true and clearly comforting to hear, so Paul was happy to have told him. Silver lining and all.
"It's just... I am sorry. Sorry you can't fuck me now, I didn't mean to overwork you like that."
Eppy blinked again, but this time, in a different kind of daze, he was too tired to deal with this. Had Paul thought- feared, clearly- that Eppy would want to fuck him? It was clear that for all that Paul was determined and eager, he was nervous in a way that appeared... rather virginal. Eppy didn't happen to like anal sex, even though he thought he should as a homosexual and thus a sodomite. Intercrural was already nice, and honestly, Eppy preferred handjobs or blowjobs so that all one's mental energy could be used only on pleasing their partner. That's also why he liked watching, liked just being able to take it all in as the only force on him was his own.
In the end, Eppy didn't want that, to fuck Paul, and even if he did, he imagined what he wanted most of all, was to make Paul happy. He didn't want to force the other man into anything he didn't want. Eppy could have- could have demanded or coerced a lot of things. Used his position as their manager, as an older man taking care of them, could have led them down the garden path, could have lied or otherwise schemed, to get some from any of them. But he hadn't and never would because what he wanted, far more than mere sexual relief, was a mutual, enjoyable sexual experience. Where all participants were eager and willing.
Now if only he wasn't so fucking exhausted, he could- but Paul just batted his hand away. "It's alright. I do know how to take care of myself. And you look like you need the rest, dear." Paul pressed a kiss to his forehead as lovely as the term of endearment had been. Fuck, Eppy was honestly relieved because that had taken it all out of him. He couldn't fight any longer to keep his eyes open, left his rejected hand to collapse upon the mattress and sunk into oblivion.
And Paul didn't feel like he was missing out on anything. He had wanted to please Eppy, to make Eppy happy, and he had done so. There wasn't anything the bassist needed from the man, yes it was true another's touch always felt a little better, but that was like saying a sock was better than using a bare hand. Yeah probably, but it wasn't necessarily worth the hassle.
So Paul watched the man already asleep for a moment more before his throbbing cock could be ignored no longer. Just because he didn't need Eppy to take care of it, didn't mean it didn't need taken care of. He got up and went to the ensuite bathroom. He had kind of hoped it would go away on its own. It wasn't like he was queer, there hadn't been that much to excite him. But no luck unless he wanted a cold shower which he did not, he hated those and there was no need for something so 'dire.'
Anyways what was being a rockstar about if not denying yourself no pleasures? And so Paul lowered his own trousers and finally, fully took his cock in hand. Much better than the limited stimuli of grinding on the mattress and Eppy. He thought back to the noises Eppy had been making, the look on his face, and Paul thought of creating those by grinding their cocks together, and fucking between the man's thighs too. The idea of getting fucked invoked no pleasure for Paul, even if he wasn't frightened or daunted by the prospect, he couldn't imagine it feeling good. And he wasn't very interested in fucking Eppy either, it would be going so far, and be a little gross, for seemingly no reason when Paul could get with a bird instead.
Still, it was just his fantasy, where he only had to think of touch, of hot skin sliding against each other, and just pleasure, without any of the logistics to get himself off. His hand worked on auto-pilot as he thought of this, just stroking mechanically as it had very well learned how to do. He imagined in place his guitar calloused hands replaced with the smooth prim ones of their manager, and he came. His orgasm was sweet and sharp after being denied and worked up for so long. He sighed and gasp as he sat back heavily against the conveniently nearby toilet seat.
It was only as he was cleaning himself up that it occurred to him that he didn't think of a bird while wanking, even as he was done with Eppy for the night. He didn't let it worry him, fear was a mind killer, because Paul knew he needed that kind of thinking to make things easier with Eppy for next time. Because there would be a next time, Paul already accomplished so much because they'd gotten much closer, from just this single night.
Paul came out once he'd cleaned himself and almost hesitated. Eppy was stretched out on the bed unmoving, dead to the world. Paul could just take his clothes and slip out. Leave to go to his room. Certainly, it would ensure they had nothing to explain but... Paul didn't want to. He almost loved the cuddling, the romantic gunk as John would say, more than the sex. *Almost,* he was still very red-blooded and a horny bastard.
So Paul crawled onto the sheets and curled up, tired but content. Tonight had been a good night, and there would be more to come. And if he woke up with an appreciated Eppy that was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and more than happy to return the favour, then that was just a bonus.