Ray's completely mesmerised by the tiny guitarist basically writhing on stage. Seriously, that should be forbidden, it's positively indecent. And he really is tiny. Ray's met Urie and Urie isn't tall and tiny guitarist is smaller than Urie. He's tiny like Frank. Except with fewer tattoos.
Frank chooses that exact moment to climb up on the back of the couch right behind Ray and perch on it. "Are you watching youtube videos of your boyfriend again?"
Ray slams his laptop closed. "He's not my boyfriend," he says, much too fast to be believable, and then he realises he hasn't denied watching videos. Fuck.
Frank is a total shit to him, saying this must be Ray's mid life crisis, perving over the jailbait guitarist. "You don't even know his name, Toro."
"It's Ian," and then Ray realises he's made a tactical error and Frank will never let him hear the end of it.
OF COURSE RAY WOULD KNOW HIS FANTASY BOYFRIEND'S NAME
AND POSSIBLY OTHER RANDOM FACTS LIKE HIS FAVOURITE GUITARIST AND LOVE OF LED ZEP ALSO HIS STAR WARS THING. HE MIGHT HAVE FANTASIES ABOUT DISCUSSING THE BEST EPS. MAYBE.
(and a secret youtube playlist of Panic shows. BUT THAT DOESN'T PROVE ANYTHING FRANK)
AND POSSIBLY RANDOM THOUGHTS ABOUT THEM COSPLAYING BUT WHATEVER, EVERYBODY DOES THAT, NBD
MAYBE HE WILL ASK MIKEY TO ASK PETE ABOUT THAT LIGHTSABER. JUST IN CASE. WHATEVER FRANK LIKE JAMIA DOESN'T HAVE LEIA'S BLASTER.
Ray sees that pic of Ian with the yoda backpack, and he does NOT squeak. Next to him Mikey leans over and checks out Ray's screen.
"You're a perfect match," he says, which, really, as if MIKEY is one to speak.
Ray's band only consists of assholes.
Gerard isn't any better--he wants to have a TALK with Ray, about how they can get Ray a date. At first Ray thinks it's to distract him, but then Gee goes on, "Those Panic kids, they belong to Pete's label, right? So Mikey can call Pete and then Pete can--"
Ray leaves the room. He does not want to think about this any longer.
It's like his entire band is trying to set him up with Ian. Like they think this could actually be a thing.
Gerard is an IDEAS man, okay? He is going to FIND A WAY TO MAKE THIS HAPPEN. Ray’s going on a date with Ian whether he likes it or NOT.
Ray does SO MUCH for his band, now his band is going to pay him back. Just because Ian looks so tiny, like Ray could hold him up.... RAY DESERVES TO BE HAPPY. Gerard is TOTALLY going to make this happen.
He's going to have to bribe Mikey so hard to talk to Pete, and Pete is totally going to want to have a "chat" with Ray about not taking advantage of his "boys". But Gerard will work his magic!
The thought of Pete trying to be intimidating is hilarious to me. He'll be all, "Now, Ray, you are quite a bit older and panic are my babies-" and he doesn't get any further because Ray goes, "How much younger is Patrick again?" and Pete gets all defensive because NOTHING EVER HAPPENED WHY WON'T PEOPLE BELIEVE HIM ;__:
And then later Mikey goes, “I know you're not scared of Pete, but Spencer is the one you don't want to cross.”
Meanwhile Frank has somehow managed to sign Ray up to Panic!'s fanclub mailing list.
So he's getting all the Northern Downpour stuff, but it's all about Spencer and Brendon and sometimes Dallon. Nothing about Ian! This is DISTURBING. What if he has left the band, and the next band he's in doesn't have fans as dedicated to youtubing all the concerts?
And Gee's just beavering away in the background making phone calls and such....
So Ray sends in an unsigned message to ND just to make sure Ian is still in the band. Which is how he inadvertently gets into a flamewar with a crazy Ryan fan who is CONVINCED Ryan is going to rejoin the band
All of this activity alerts someone in the band to what's going on and someone recognises the domain name in Ray's email address. At first they figure it cannot be real, it's just like those million XYZUrie addresses. Brendon even makes a stupid joke when they see that firstname.lastname@example.org is a total Ian-wife.
He reads selected sections of Ray's submissions out loud.
"I don't understand why a mailing list that is supposed to be about PATD seems to be only about Urie and Smith, and sometimes Weekes. Crawford is the pulse of focus of this band live, it makes no sense that he doesn't rate a mention on this so-called "official" mailing list."
Brendon and Spencer and Dallon start to troll Ray.
"Hey man, Ian's in like 50 bands! Maybe if he focused more on Panic, Panic would focus more on him."
Brendon and Spencer would TOTALLY troll back. "He hogs the shower in the morning" and "He won't stop playing physical graffiti at all hours" and "He's a total band whore and we like commitment".
Then Panic announce a Q&A session on ustream, and Ray really wants to call in and ask a question. But he has a really recognisable voice, so he tries to make Gee call in instead, but Gee does his whole "No, you are WORTHY OF ATTENTION, don't hide behind your friends" thing. And Frank is just laughing and laughing in the background and teasing the shit out of Ray while Gerard is pushing the phone into his hand and giving him pep talks and while all this crazy is happening Mikey is just quietly texting Pete for Ian's number.
u need to give me ian's no. i will only use it for good, promise x m
And then just as the call is connected Mikey shows Ray the message Pete sent back.
324 7786354010 he haz ttl crush on R. u break him u buy him
And Ray squeaks something into the phone and drops it, leaving Frank to troll the shit out of the livestream as he runs out of the room.
A while later they end up playing shows in neighbouring towns. Mikey invents an emergency and is all, "Ray you need to come pick me up :| My car has broken down :|". But THEN THERE IS IAN.
Mikey has left Ian stranded at a gas station in the name of LOVE.
And Ian is maybe a little bit snippy about it. Until it becomes very clear that Ray had no idea and he's going, "Um, where's Mikey?", and Ian's like, "SIGH, search me, he just left me here.” Ray frowns and Ian is like, “Are you headed back to town? Can you give me a ride?" and Ray is like, "Sure", and totally trying not to blush or stutter too much.
The drive back is awkwardly quiet until Ian says, "Can I put the radio on?"
It’s Van Halen and Ray blurts out, "Leather pants!" And immediately wants to DIE.
Ian kind of looks at him quizzically and Ray has turned bright red and stammers the first thing he can think of, which is, "I, um, was thinking I should maybe get some."
And then Ian imagines Ray in leather pants and nearly passes out when all the blood in his body races to his crotch.
Ian manages to get out, "Oh, is that some kind of new concept? I, uh, liked the leather jacket. With the--flag." He gestures to his back.
Ray sort of bobs his head and says, "You know Gerard," which seems to satisfy Ian. Ian's singing along to the radio, and he's not Gee, but his voice is nice, and he turns the radio way up when Layla comes on and they belt out the chorus together. Ray very determinedly does not think about Ian on his knees.
Ray stops the car and Ian looks at him all weird. Which is when Ray realises that he's parked in front of THEIR hotel. Ray kind of wants to disappear--on the one hand, Ian just wanted a ride into town, but on the other hand, god, Ian's going to hate Ray if he just drops him here and lets him find his own way home.
Ray figures he should ask Ian which hotel he's in, try to play it off, but then Frank comes bounding out of the hotel lobby and almost RIPS the car door open. "Hey, we were waiting for you," Frank says, all cheery and with that fucking stupid grin, and before Ray can do anything, Frank's pulled Ian out of the car.
Naturally Ray has to go after him.
Ian, for the record, is taking all of this very calmly, Ray thinks. If someone's strange bandmates were dragging RAY around like that, Ray wouldn't be so relaxed.
Ray rushes to catch up because, let’s face it, Frank could be telling Ian ANYTHING. And Ian's kind of easy to drag around being as how he's tiny. So he catches up to them at the elevator and says, "Hey, sorry, man, I can take you back, or call you a cab or whatever, don't let Frank kidnap you."
“I said he should hang with us”, Frank says.
“It’s okay”, Ian says. “You don’t need me in your band time, I know what hotel nights are like.” But he looks so SAD that Ray says, "I don't know what your hotel nights are like, but we were just gonna watch Shaun of the Dead and eat pizza. You wanna?”
IT COULD BE LIKE A DATE. A GROUP DATE.
It leaves Ray in the following dilemma:
He doesn't really want Ian to hang out with his band because Frank's outright leering, Gee's trying to "help things along" by making deep insights, and Ray thinks Mikey capable of just blurting out, "Hey, if you need lube, just take mine. If you're out of condoms, you're on your own, I only carry my size." Mikey's dated Pete Wentz, after all.
Being alone with Ian, though, oh god. THAT would just really egg his band on, but now that he's invited Ian, he can't just kick him out after five minutes.
Ray totally ends up alone with Ian in Ray's room. He's supposed to share with Mikey who helpfully left his bag open, bottle of lube right on top, but Mikey just wandered away. Ray's never hated his band more.
Ian smiles at him. "You promised me food and a funny horror movie," he says.
Ray can do this. He can totally do this. He knows how to work the movies on demand system and he knows how to order room service. He's not sure if he can do it all without blushing though, what with the way Ian's doing this little half-way smile in his direction as Ray fumbles with the room service menu.
He gets beer, too. He fucking needs beer.
Just as he hangs up the phone he glances over to see Ian's holding up Mikey's carefully placed bottle of lube and Ray nearly dies of shock.
Ian just says, "Hey, I use this brand, too!"
Ray just STARES as Ian carries the lube over and puts it down on the night table without any further comment.
"Hey, the movie's starting," is what Ian actually says. And then he sits down right next to Ray on the bed.
Ray is fine.
Ray is FINE.
He totally relaxes back against the bedhead and watches the movie and doesn't creepily keep flicking his eyes sideways to see what Ian's doing or think about how he can feel the dip of the bed where Ian's sitting beside him and the light scent of his cologne and how he could just slide his hand sideways and he could totally be touching Ian right now.
He's totally not thinking about that.
When the pizza arrives, Ray does not jump up and rush to the door. He really doesn't. He maybe hurries a bit because Ian keeps SHIFTING and it would be so easy--
But it's because the pizza's there and he shouldn't let the poor guy wait, that's not polite, and pizza needs to be eaten while it's hot.
"Food's here!" Ray says loudly and cheerily, as if Ian hasn't been there the whole time while Ray paid for the damn thing.
And then they start to eat the pizza. Ray didn't think you could eat pizza and look so fucking sexy.
Ray has hands and a mouth, but his hands don't look like THAT when he's eating pizza and he's pretty sure he can't do that with his mouth. Ian glances up from his slice of pepperoni, peering at Ray between curly locks of hair as he licks pizza sauce off his fingers.
And Ray is totally not thinking food related thoughts right now.
"Do I have sauce on me?" Ian asks.
Ray shakes himself out of his daydream. "I, what?" he asks.
Ian sticks his tongue out and licks at the corners of his mouth and Ray clenches his hands on his thighs so as not to reach out.
"Did I get it?" Ian asks, licking his lips. "You were staring at me like I had sauce all over my face." He crooks a grin at Ray and Ray doesn't think anyone could blame him for reaching out and rubbing his thumb over Ian's cheek, as close to his mouth as he dares. Ian tilts his head up into it.
"Got it," Ray says, his voice soft. Ian blinks at him, and Ray can feel himself leaning forward, can almost taste the tomato sauce when Ian's phone rings and Ian digs it out of his pocket to answer.
"Hey. No. No, I'm fine, I'm hanging out. Really, we can't? Okay. Okay, I'm on my way."
He shoves it back in his pocket and rakes his hand through his hair. Ray knows what that means when he does it it, but he doesn't know if Ian's nervous, or just frustrated.
"That was Spencer," Ian says. "There's some problem with the bus, we have to set off earlier tomorrow morning. I should get back. I'm sorry, we didn't even get to finish the film."
"Oh, hey," Ray says, dropping his hand from where it was still awkwardly hovering in mid air. "No problem. You want me to drive you?"
"You're all set for the night." Ian nods at the beer and the remains of the pizza. "I'll get a cab."
Ian slides off the bed and grabs his jacket, shimmies his arms into it.
"Hey," Ray says, just as Ian gets to the door. "You maybe want to come see us, day after tomorrow? You said you had that day free."
Ian nods, curls bobbing. "I'd love to, but you're sold out, dude. Even I know that."
"I can work something out," Ray grins.
"Cool," Ian says and slips out the door.
Ray's mentally berating himself for using the "I'll put your name on the list" thing, which, he hasn't done since the days of basement shows when his phone chimes. It's a number he doesn't recognise.
u should have kissed me. see you at the show! :)
So aside from not managing to get his hands on Ian at all, Ray now has to put up with everyone in his band knowing that he had Ian alone in his hotel room for, well, a while. And they are SO totally not going to leave him alone about it.
"So why did Ian run off?" Mikey asks, "I thought I'd find you guys spooning this morning." (What Mikey did find when he returned to the room was a lot of empty beer cans and a slightly hungover Ray.)
"Did you scare him off?" Frank butts in, because that's what he does. "Did you touch him in his special place? Did you get all up on his virgin ass?"
Ray is going to kill Frank later.
Mikey snorts, "There is nothing virgin about Ian's ass."
"How do you know?" Frank climbs up to peer over the seat at Mikey, "You get there first?"
Mikey blows out a breath, "You only need to see the guy on stage. He fucking loves taking it."
"Wait, what? You can tell someone's sex life from the way they play guitar?" Frank sounds impressed.
"No way," Ray frowns, wondering how transparent he is.
Mikey just sniggers, "Ray's more of a giver. You and Ian would get along."
Ray knows he's turning bright red, but luckily Frank provides a distraction by bouncing in his seat shouting, "Do me! Do me!"
Mikey considers Frank for a moment before telling him, "You're all about mouth and hands. It's in the fingering."
Frank breathes out, sounding awed. "Mikeyway, you have a fucking gift."
And then Mikey snickers. Honest to god snickers. "So," he says, Ray can feel it coming, "I figure we have to hit the mall."
"Good idea," Gee says. "I'm almost out of notebooks."
Nobody mentions the dozen notebooks strewn around the lounge.
"Not for art supplies." Mikey grins. "We need to buy Ray some leather pants."
"We don't," Ray says. "I don't need leather pants. I don't WANT leather pants."
"Not what you said to Ian last night, is what Pete tells me," Mikey says.
One day, Ray thinks, he's going to fucking kill Pete Wentz.
And so Gerard is all, "Costumes? WE WILL SUPPORT YOU IN THIS DECISION!" plus it means he gets to buy another jacket and he looooves his jacket.
And they somehow coerce him into this store and Gerard goes to coo over the jackets and takes Frank with him because Ray is THIS CLOSE to snapping and then they will be down a rhythm guitarist. Although hey, maybe they could get Ian to fill in. Ray would like that, seeing how they connect onstage and maybe they could see if that worked offstage, playing off each other. He thinks it would...
But while he's daydreaming Mikey taps him on the shoulder and he's got four pairs of pants over his arm.
"Try them," he says. "You might need to lie down to zip them up. I picked tight ones."
"I didn't agree to this," Ray says, but he's a softie when it comes to his band so into the dressing room he goes.
When he comes out in the last pair (because Mikey appears to have forgotten he has thighs and, you know, a dick, so he could only get this pair done up). Mikey, Frank and Gee are all totally silent.
"They don't look that bad, right?" he asks, a little desperately.
"If by 'bad' you mean, do I want to have sex with you right now? Then yes, they look bad. Very bad," Gerard states with utmost honesty.
"I think you mean 'bad meaning good' like when Colour Me Badd put an extra D on the end so they know you mean bad ass," Frank adds.
Mikey just smiles and takes a photo to send to Pete.
Because Ray's friends hate him they make him keep on the pants. Frank leans over the counter and tells the cashier, "We're trying to get him laid. It's our mission."
The cashier looks Ray up and down, making him uncomfortable. Then she replies, "I'd hit that." Ray wants to disappear, Frank highfives her and Mikey says, "Pete says your ass looks good in those pants."
"How does Wentz--STOP SENDING PICS OF ME TO OTHER PEOPLE."
Mikey walks away quite calmly. "He says he forwarded it to Brendon and Spencer. They give you an 8 and a 4, by the way."
"That's way more than a 4," Gee says.
Mikey texts frantically. "Apparently Spencer's prejudiced by Brendon's ass. Sorry, Ray, you don't compare."
Ray hates everything. And then it's time for the concert.
Gerard makes Ray wear his leather pants the entire day leading up to the gig. "It's for your own good, trust me, they'll be way too tight if you don't wear them in first, and then how will you play?"
So Ray has to put up with his bandmates giving him shit the entire day (not that they wouldn't have anyway) but he probably doesn't notice how anyone who happens to be walking behind him at any given time has a higher probability of tripping over/walking into things.
Mikey has been busy in the background, so quietly Ray doesn't realise they have company till he hears an unfamiliar voice behind him in the dressing room.
"Nah, still a four."
Ray happens to be bending over to pick up his guitar cable at the time.
"Actually, make that a five."
Ray turns around to see who's spouting numbers and comes face to face with Brendon and Spencer. Brendon smiles and waves. Then he yanks Ian through the doorway with a grin.
It's about this time that Ray realises he hasn't put his shirt on yet.
Ray crosses his arms over his bare chest, suddenly uncomfortable. Reminded that Panic are all younger than him, and, in the case of Brendon at least, in the kind of ridiculous shape you only see in porn.
"You're all assholes," he says. "Seriously, STOP trying to help. Why the hell did you bring them here?"
Mikey pats him on the shoulder. "You invited Ian. Ian invited his band."
"You could have waited till I was dressed." Ray pulls on the first clean shirt that comes to hand.
Mikey tilts his head. "I really couldn't," he says. "And you have nothing to worry about. Come on," Mikey kisses his cheek. "Let’s play a great show. Think you can do that?"
Ray smiles, a bit pained, he thinks, but Ian smiles right back at him.
"Good show," Ian says and throws his hand up in the rock'n roll sign and that's it, Ray's gone for good.
Whenever Ray looks back at the side of the stage, he only notices Ian there--moshing, grooving along with the music. It makes Ray want to show off--so he just does. He doesn't think his band will mind the extra guitar soli he throws in.
While his band don't necessarily MIND the extra guitar solo, Ray should know better than to expect it to pass without comment.
"Nice solo there, Toro, I'm sure Ian will let you fuck him all over the place tonight for that." Frank says into the dead mic.
What he thinks is the dead mic.
What isn't actually the dead mic.
Ray peers out into the teeming audience and wondered just how much of what Frank said was actually decipherable.
Enough that Ian's smiling at him and raising a hand in the metal salute, apparently.
Ray half expects Gerard to drag Ian onstage for the encore because his band are meddling assholes. He doesn't, but he does whisper, "House of Wolves" into the dead mic, because he knows it's Ray's favourite. It's kind of a peace offering, Ray guesses. He looks again at Ian in the wings, Brendon and Spencer nowhere to be seen. Ian grins at him and gestures to Ray, then to himself, and licks his lips sloooooooowly.
Ray's played through bottling, heckling, Frank and Gerard making out onstage, and Bob being on FIRE. It's the first time, though, that his fingers slide on the strings, slip and squeak. Luckily Frank has his back as always, and he thinks no one notices. No one except Ian, that is, who smiles wide and slips free the first few buttons of his shirt, until Ray can see the outline of a bird tattooed on his chest.
Jesus, Ray thinks, as he plays the last few chords, and the lights fade down to black. Fucking jesus CHRIST.
Ray doesn't know how he makes it through the concert. When they get offstage for the encore, Mikey ushers Ray to the opposite side, the one where Ian's NOT.
"Mikey," Ray says.
"We still gotta play two songs," Mikey says. "It's hard to do if you're making out with Ian."
Ray wants to protest, he's way more professional than what Mikey makes it sound like--then he catches sight of Ian, his shirt now completely open. Ray wants to lick Ian's nipples, wants to bite his shoulders, wants to suck on his neck--okay, maybe Mikey has a point there.
Ray doesn't drop any notes in the encore, but he does play his guitar like he's fucking it hard and thorough. He definitely spends more time glancing side stage than he does looking out to the audience and he knows everyone in his band is laughing at him. He doesn't care though, because Ian's all but lost his shirt completely and Ray wants to trace his tongue along the lines of that damn tattoo he's got on his chest.
The crowd roar fades to a dull noise at the back of Ray's head after the last note is played. Gerard has to yank him downstage by the arm into the group bow because Ray's mind is nowhere near the auditorium. He hands off his guitar to a tech and takes his bow with the guys, his fingers already itching. He loses track of where Ian is in the scuffle to get offstage, but when they get back to the dressing room, he's standing outside it, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his naked chest. "I hear they have showers here. You look like you need one."
Ray's band prove their love for him by forgoing showers so that Ian and Ray can have some alone time in the venue washroom. Actually it's not that much of a sacrifice for the Ways, but Frank will certainly expect some kind of reward for being stinky all night for the sake of Ray's sex life. Ray will buy him a fruit basket later.
Right now he can't even bring himself to care about how much he owes the guys, or how soundproof the bathroom isn't, because Ian yanks him into a shower stall, loops an arm around Ray's neck and just starts devouring his mouth. He may be small but he's certainly forceful when he gets his weight behind him, and he shows it by shoving Ray up against the wall and all but climbing him.
Ray doesn't have a problem with any of this, not at all. He slips Ian some tongue and wraps an arm around his back to hold him up, gasping into Ian's mouth when his hand touches the naked skin of Ian's back. Ian's running hot, clawing at Ray's t-shirt, slipping a hand between their bodies and trying to slip his fingers down the front of Ray's pants. Jesus christ, the kid doesn't waste any time. Ray's so hard he can barely think. Then Ian's fingertips make contact with Ray's cock and he has to break the kiss, gasping.
"Fuck, what happened to foreplay?"
Ian just grins devilishly, his lips wet and pornographic. "What do you think we've been doing for the last three hours?"
Ray buries his face in Ian's neck and groans. He's always a little turned on when he comes off stage but Ian's right, it's been three hours of foreplay easily. Ian's fingers, those clever, nimble fingers, are rubbing over the front of his pants even as his legs are wrapping around Ray's hips. Shit, Ray could hold him up like this, they could get off just like this, without even undressing, rubbing off against each other, chests sliding together, hands tangling.
Ian ducks his head to mouth at Ray's ear, biting at the lobe and Ray hisses.
"Gotta say I think the leather pants should be mandatory," Ian purrs. "So fucking hot. Every single person out there wanted you to fuck them through the floor but I'm the one here, seeing you like this."
He's writhing against Ray now, just like he writhes on stage and Ray thinks he's dangerously to coming in the ridiculous leather pants. He mouths across Ian's skin, at the blue-inked lines of that bird, and feels Ian shudder.
"But see, we have a problem," Ian pants, throwing his head back. His curls shake around his head and Ray wants to get his hands into them, hope he likes people tugging his hair as much as Ray does. "Because I can't decide whether I want to ride you or blow you first. Get my mouth on you, take as much of it in as I can, or have you fuck me like I've wanted since the first time I saw you play, so all I can feel is you all round me and in me."
"Jesus," Ray manages to gasp. "Keep that dirty talk up and neither will be an option because I'll come in my fucking pants.”
Ian grins. "Then I should get you out of them."
He reaches down, snaking his fingers down between his legs. Ray can't stop staring because the sight alone of Ian's wrist pressed between the open V of Ian's legs and Ray's belly is so sexual.
"I want to fuck you," Ray says.
"Later," Ian says. "Hotel room."
Later both sounds like a promise and Ray's demise--he wants Ian NOW.
But then Ian manages to open Ray's pants before Ray's even had a chance to ask when LATER would be, and then he's pushing his hand inside Ray's pants, his fingers tight around Ray's cock.
"God," Ray pants.
"You can call me Ian, no need to be formal," Ian smirks and firms his grip, slowly working Ray's cock. Ray chokes on a breath, reaching up to steady himself by grabbing the top of the stall. Fuck, Ian's just going for it, no playing around.
"Jesus, you're huge," Ian says, voice breathy and little awed. "Show me. Fuck, get these off." Ian tugs at the waistband of Ray's leather pants and, okay, Ray knew on some level that the whole getting-them-off part might be a problem. Being sweaty from the show isn't helping either, but Ian is determined.
He's also easily distracted though, because he gives up on trying to shove Ray's pants down the moment he manages to get them open far enough that he can get Ray's cock free. "Fuck yeah," Ian breathes, and goes straight to his knees.
Ian licks over the head of Ray's cock, and he glances up at Ray, his mouth stretched into a devilish, evil grin before he opens his mouth wide and sucks Ray's cock in. Ray almost falls over at the first feel of Ian's mouth on his cock. He puts his hands against the tiles, but he can't look away from Ian--Ian's mouth around Ray's cock, his cheeks, the way he closes his eyes and just looks BLISSFUL.
Ray gets where Ian's coming from. Ian puts his hand around the base of Ray's cock, sliding it up until it meets his lips. It's mesmerising, the slow movement of his hand, his lips glistening with saliva. And most important, it feels pretty fucking amazing.
Ian pulls off with a gasp and breathes in jerkily. "Fuck," he says, jacking Ray fast. "I wish I could take you in deep."
"You're doing good," Ray says. He feels the weird need to assure Ian that this is good, better than good, fantastic even.
Ian just grins back at Ray. Then he slides his other hand down his chest and pops open the button on his own jeans. "Maybe we'll have time for it later," he says and puts his mouth back on Ray. Except now he's pulling out his own cock, jerking himself off slowly, and Ray can't decide what to look at--Ian's mouth or his hand.
Ray cautiously slides one hand into Ian's hair, the curls twining round his fingers and from the pleased noise Ian makes round his cock Ray guesses he likes it. More than likes it because Ian's hand on his own dick speeds up and and he's making these little soft sounds, quick and desperate. All Ray can look at is the stretched plan of his back, shiny with sweat under the crappy light, the blurred movement of Ian's hand.
"So good, so good," Ray chants, and Ian rubs under the head of his cock with his tongue and that's enough to have Ray almost coming, as worked up as he is. "I'm gonna come," he pants, tugging on Ian's hair to pull his head back, and Ian pulls off with one last lick and says, "Can you get yourself off? I want to see, thought about it so much."
Ray nods and gets one shaky hand round his dick and hears Ian breathe, "Yeah, that's it, come on, so fucking hot, your hands and your cock, come on me, you can, I want you to."
And that's enough for Ray and he shudders and comes, all over Ian's chest, come streaking over that fucking bird. Ian's jerking himself fast, groaning loudly, as Ray's come hits his skin. "So good," he says. There's a little hitch in his voice that Ray thinks means that Ian's getting close to coming.
It's easy for Ray to sink down onto his knees--okay, so maybe his knees are weak, like jelly, and he couldn't stand upright if his life depended on it, but blah, semantics, schmemantics. Point is, he's kneeling and he's still fucking towering over Ian, who's grinning up with him.
"Let me help you with that," Ray says and wraps his hand around Ian's.
Ian groans and leans forward, pressing his face against Ray's neck. Ray can't resist turning his face and rubbing his cheek over Ian's hair. Ian smells like sweat and come and a lingering coconut note that's maybe his shampoo.
"So close," Ian mumbles and licks a wet stripe over Ray's neck.
"The earlier you come, the earlier we can get out of here," Ray says, still breathing hard. "The earlier I can lay out on a real bed, kiss you everywhere, touch you everywhere, god, I want to finger your ass, I want--"
Ian comes with a half-swallowed cry, comes all over Ray's fingers. He looks absolutely beautiful as he does. Then they both just kneel there on the bathroom floor, trying to calm their breathing, covered in come.
Ray kind of never wants to move.
Eventually Ray's knees start screaming too loudly for him to ignore. He nuzzles into Ian's hair one last time before easing back and climbing slowly and painfully to his feet. He puts down a hand and Ian grasps it with a grin, pulling himself up to standing. He leans up on his tiptoes and kisses Ray again, licking into his mouth, and there's the salt-bitter taste of Ray's dick on his mouth which makes Ray groan, deep and satisfied.
Ian starts tugging at Ray's pants, trying to ease them down his thighs and wow, he's younger than Ray, sure, but that's some fucking recovery time right there.
"You're gonna have to give me a little time before round two," Ray says ruefully, catching one of the belt loops under his thumb.
Ian just yanks Ray's pants down further, "You want to shower in your clothes that's your business, but these pants look expensive."
Ray groans. He really can't be bothered getting wet right now. Maybe he's been hanging around the Ways too much. "Do we really have to shower?"
Ian smirks and shrugs. "We don't have to, just, you know, you got me all messed up."
Ray gaze trails down Ian's torso to where his skin is still marked with Ray's come. A hot streak of something that feels like possessiveness shoots through him at the sight. He likes seeing Ian wear him on his skin like this. He raises a hand without thinking, tracing fingers over Ian's skin around the mess.
Ian just sighs, leaning into the touch like a cat. "We can leave it if you want, I don't mind, just..." he looks up, smiling impishly at Ray through his messy curls, "you get to explain what the fuck we've been doing in here if we weren't taking a shower."
Ray is just about to say he thinks that everyone will be able to guess when someone hammers on the door, and yells, "Toro, if you've finished fucking your jailbait, some of us want to use the shower for its intended purpose!"
Ian just turns his head and bellows, "Fuck off, Iero, you're ruining the afterglow!"
Ray buries his smile in Ian's hair. "We should get out of here," he says, yanking the pants up and sucking his stomach in to do up the button. They are tight as fuck, but now he's seen Ian's reaction he thinks he might keep them. "We won't have too much time at the hotel as it is, we roll out pretty early."
"No, you don't," Ian says. He gives a cursory swipe at his chest and then shrugs and just picks his shirt off the floor and buttons it over the mess. He leaves the top few buttons undone and Ray just wants to bury his face in the open collar and LICK. "I had my people talk to your people. I'm taking you back to our hotel, and we'll catch up with your guys tomorrow."
"Do I get a choice in this?" Ray asks, but Ian has him by the hand and is tugging him toward the door. He stretches up to kiss Ray, slipping in tongue and says, "Nope. Don't leave me hanging, I didn't even get you naked."
"Me either," Ray says. He bets it's quite a sight.
Ian unlocks the door and pushes it open to a chorus of hoots and catcalls, because Ray's band (and Ian's) are assholes.
Ian squares his shoulders and looks at them all with an impish grin.
"You are all just jealous," he says and slaps Ray’s ass. Ray yelps. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm stealing Ray for the next 12 hours. He's got some debauching to do."
Ray can hear someone--Spencer, he thinks--say, "Too much information, Ian." But Ian's already dragging him out to the side door of the venue, where a car is waiting.
They get into the backseat, and as soon as they pull away from the curb, Ian's climbing into Ray's lap. It's just as well, because Ray can't keep his hands to himself anyway. He just hopes the driver will ignore them.
"Hey," Ian says before he leans down and nips at Ray's lips.
Ray replies by pulling Ian down for a proper kiss. Proper meaning tongue because he wants to chase the taste of himself in Ian's mouth.
Ian goes pliant and soft, almost melting against Ray, but he kisses back hard, and fuck, Ray could do this for hours. He mouths his way to Ian's neck, gently biting Ian's earlobe.
Ian groans, his hands tightening on Ray's arms. "Fuck," he says.
"Soon." Ray kisses Ian again. "Can't wait for it."
Ian just grins. They keep kissing until there's a polite cough coming from the front of the car. "We have arrived," the driver says calmly, not looking into the rearview mirror.
Ray knows a get the fuck out of my car when he hears one. "Thanks for driving," he says, although it sounds lame, but he feels the driver probably didn't sign up for this. But all Ray can think of is that in a few minutes he'll be alone with Ian and there'll be a bed and fuck, he's already getting hard again. Maybe Ian's refractory period is rubbing off on Ray.
Ray can feel a fierce blush threatening as they cross the lobby, but he keeps his focus on Ian's ass (how the fuck Ian walks around like that all the time without getting mobbed is a fucking miracle) and the moment the lift doors slide shut behind them he gets a hand in Ian's hair and kisses him up against the wall.
They nearly miss their floor. Thank god the lift has a really loud bell. When Ray breaks the kiss Ian looks a little dazed and Ray can't help but giggle.
Ian just snorts, grabs Ray by the arm and drags him down the hall. "You won't be laughing in a minute, Toro."
It takes Ian three tries to get the door to their room to swipe and Ray laughs at him, right up until Ian drags him inside, shoves him up against the door with surprising force and takes his mouth in a breath-stealing kiss.
Ray actually whimpers. It's a manly whimper, but still a whimper. Ian kisses him hard, licking into his mouth and palming Ray's crotch with one hand. Ray knees might actually give way at this rate. By the time Ian breaks the kiss, Ray's a little dizzy. Ian tugs on the waistband of Ray's leather pants. "You. Naked. Now," is all he says.
Ray can do that.
They separate to get naked, Ray watching as Ian's fingers fly on the buttons of his shirt, as his hips shimmy as he pushes his jeans down and steps out of them, and then the bed bounces as Ian takes a flying leap and lands on it, naked, already a fucking mess from the venue, already hard.
Ray kicks out of his sneakers and strips his shirt off over his head, and then forces himself to take his time and ease the pants down bit by bit so he doesn't get stuck. Ian doesn't make it easy to be patient. He's leaning over to get into the night stand, ass in the air, and Ray can't wait to get his hands on it. He wants to grip onto his hips and feel Ian writhe.
"Ngh," he says, intelligently. It feels like he's been worked up forever, and Ian's just there, leaning back against the pillows now and tossing the lube from hand to hand and grinning. It's the first time Ray's got a proper look at his cock, and fuck. Ray's no size queen (it would be too much like narcissism) but yeah. Nice.
"Taking your time there?" Ian asks.
Ray gives one last yank on the pants and FINALLY gets them past his thighs and down the rest of his legs and he steps out of them and finally, finally presses himself the full length of Ian and kisses him.
"I got all night, you said," he reminds him, in between kisses. "I said I'd take my time."
"Mmyeah," Ian half groans, and he's twitching under Ray, shifting, legs coming up to twine round Ray and lock at the small of his back. "That's great, but you should fuck me first, and then take your time." Ian grabs one of Ray's hands and squeezes some lube onto his fingers, and Ray can't say no to that. Doesn't think anyone could.
Ray's torn between the desire to watch his fingers slide inside Ian and to keep kissing Ian. In the end, kissing wins. The expression on Ian's face when Ray slides the first finger in, carefully, slowly--the way Ian's eyes flutter closed, the way he throws his head back, his neck a long line of pale white skin just begging to be licked, his mouth half-open--it just undoes Ray. He gives into temptation and licks the small hollow between Ian's collarbones, mouthing his way up to Ian's jaw.
"More," Ian demands, gasping. "Come on, more."
Ray complies before he even has a chance to think about it. "You're bossy," he says.
"And you love it," Ian replies. Ray thinks he might just be right.
Ian's pulling Ray close again, kissing him hard and heavy--the only way to describe that Ray can think of is "plunder", like in that one shitty romance novel Pete sent Mikey and that Frank delighted in reading out loud, Gerard loudly complaining about all the sexist things in there. But that's what Ian's doing, he's plundering Ray's mouth, claiming him in a way Ray didn't know he could be claimed--and he finds that he fucking loves it.
"Come on , come on," Ian mumbles. "Fuck me."
Ian whimpers. "On the bedside table."
Ray manages to tear himself away from Ian's mouth long enough to spot the entire BOX of magnums on the table.
"I think you overestimate my recovery time," he says, snagging a strip and tearing off one of the little squares.
"Always next time, right?" Ian asks, and for the first time Ray hears a little hint of uncertainty underneath. Like he's not fucking sure. Like this could ever be enough.
"And the time after that," Ray says. He wipes his hand on the sheet and gets the packet open, but Ian plucks the rubber out of his hand and rolls it down onto Ray's cock.
"Like this," Ian says, demands really, and he steadies Ray's cock with his hand and sinks down, inch by torturous inch, groaning as Ray bottoms out. He's so tight around Ray, sheened with sweat and flushed already.
"Gonna fuck me?" Ian grins, but he shifts his hips as the same time and the last word comes out as a breathless moan.
Ray bucks up, once, twice, but then he says, "Kind of feels like you have it in hand."
"If you insist," Ian says and braces his hands on Ray's chest and starts to MOVE.
Ray's gripping Ian's hips tightly and digs his heels into the mattress, trying to get all the leverage he can. He rolls his hips slowly, and without saying a word, they establish a fast, pounding rhythm.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Ian chants. "Fuck, come on, kiss me right now." He yanks Ray up and close, while Ray can't stifle a laugh.
"Your wish is my command," Ray says, but it comes out a bit more serious than intended. Ian just grins and then they're kissing. This close, Ian's cock bumps against Ray's belly, leaving a wet streak of come on Ray's skin. Ray wraps his hand around Ian's cock. Earlier, in the shower, that was just about getting off right now and then. But now, Ray thinks, he actually has time to explore. He rubs his thumb over the tiny slit, slides his hand up and down slowly, holds Ian's cock tightly, cups Ian's ball and presses down just in the sweet spot right behind them, recording each of Ian's reactions.
Ian is really noisy and Ray likes that a whole fucking lot. He has these little breathy groans and when Ray bottoms out his voice goes deep and throaty. He also babbles a little,
"Yeah, oh fuck yes, Ray, like that, oh shit. Knew you'd be good, could tell from the way you move, fuck Ray, your fucking cock, that's it, that's it..." Ian pants the words hot against Ray's ear, sliding his mouth across Ray's cheek to kiss him again, shoving his tongue inside Ray's mouth. He tugs on Ray's hair, shoving back against every thrust, just fucking riding Ray's dick and fuck, Ray promised he'd take his time, but now he doesn't know if he can. Ian feels so fucking good, so tight around his dick and he writhes under Ray's body, whimpering and moaning and muttering a filthy stream of consciousness.
Ray firms his grip on Ian's dick. He needs to get Ian off, make sure it happens before he loses it himself and it's getting fucking chancy. He pulls out every trick he has, getting his callused thumb under the head of Ian's cock as he strokes, rolling his thumb and squeezing, jerking Ian in time with his thrusts. Fuck he's gonna blow any second. Luckily, Ian's getting close too,
"Fuck, Ray, are you trying to kill me?" Ian's hips start to move erratically, like he can't keep his nice smooth rhythm any longer. Ray's thrusting up harder, moves his hand even faster. Then Ian reaches up, licks his thumb and starts rubbing his nipple. Ray can't really suppress the groan that escapes him, but from the way Ian smirks down at him, he guesses that was the
"Gonna make you come," Ian announces. Then he licks his thumb again and starts rubbing RAY'S nipple and--Ray's never actually been that sensitive there--it felt nice, nothing more. But now it's like his nerve endings are exploding.
"Fuck," Ray says. "Fuck, I'm gonna--"
Ian just grins and leans down to kiss Ray hard again. "Then come," he says. "Come inside me, c'mon, I wanna feel you."
"Trying to make you come," Ray pants, mouth smushed against Ian's cheek. He gets his hand up into Ian's hair to hold his head still to kiss him again, and his fingers catch on the curls, pulling, and Ian whines high in the back of his throat and pushes back against him. So Ray does it again, thrusting up and rubbing under the head of Ian's dick and tugging, just slightly on his curls and that's it, that's all she wrote, Ian comes with a yell, his arms giving out as he collapses forward onto Ray's chest.
"Come on, come on," Ian's babbling. "Fucking, just, come for me, okay?" and he manages to lift his head long enough to kiss Ray and Ray feels the orgasm hit, spiralling out as he arches his back and comes.
They pant together, coming down. Ray has a mouthful of Ian's hair and Ian's still fucking talking, mumbling something against his skin that Ray can't make out.
He palms Ian's sweaty hip. "I'm gonna pull out, ok?" he says.
Ian makes a complaining noise but he wriggles and lifts himself so Ray can pull out. He doesn't miss the wince on Ian's face and he's about to apologise when Ian puts his fingers on Ray's lips.
"Don't even," Ian says. "Like oh no, I got fucked to within an inch of my life by Ray Toro, however will I survive?"
Ray manages a weak laugh.
Somehow Ray's laugh ends on a yawn and there's no way Ian is going to let that go. He punches Ray in the arm, "You're such an old man, Toro, you need a little lie down now, grandpa?"
"Shut the fuck up," Ray says gently, wrapping an arm around Ian's shoulders and nuzzling his slightly sweaty hair. So what if orgasms make Ray want to snuggle? If Ian has a problem with that he can just--
"Mmmmm," Ian murmurs, tucking his face into Ray's neck and wriggling till they're smushed together. They're kinda sticky and it's a little gross, but mostly nice.
Ray scritches Ian's hair and breathes out deeply.
"You're not gonna fall asleep on me, are you?" Ian asks, and Ray's eyes are heavy but he can hear the smirk in his voice.
"Maybe a little," Ray says, because it's not like he can help it. "Orgasms, you know?"
Ian hums. "Fine, but your cock is mine when we wake up."
"Sure," Ray says, his hand already slowing, his head lolling as sleep tugs at him
It's actually his stomach rumbling that wakes Ray up, reminding him that he last ate hours ago, and he's done a heck of a lot to work up an appetite since then.
"Hey," he says, when he sees that Ian's awake and blinking up at him. "You hungry? You got any food here?"
Ian appears to think about it for a bit.
"There's the mini bar," he says, "or we could call room service? What do you want?" He sits up and reaches for the menu. Ray studies him, bare chests dotted with streaks of dried come, the flash of tats on the inside of his biceps, hair a tangled mess from Ray's own hands.
"What ever you want," Ray says, "I'm just starving, all of a sudden."
"Well," Ian smirks. "It was quite the workout. Onstage and off."
"I like to give it my all," Ray grins.
He strokes Ian's back idly as he calls down to room service for pizza and a six pack.
"We're a mess," he says as Ian snuggles back down.
"Eh, what's the point of showering?" Ian asks. His hand is wondering down Ray's chest toward his cock. "We're just gonna get dirty again."
"You'd fit in disturbingly well with Mikey and Gerard," Ray says, as Ian's hand circles his cock, just holding it.
Ian just snickers.
They make out while waiting for room service. Okay, so it starts as making out and by the time there's a knock on the door they're pretty heavily into "petting" area.
"Fuck," Ian groans as he grinds against Ray's hip. Ray's already half-hard again, Ian's fingers wrapped loosely around his cock, jerking him slowly. "Who gets up?"
Ray blinks. "Do we have to?" He would really just prefer to keep doing what they were at.
Ian sighs and rolls away. Ray doesn't whimper. Okay, so maybe a tiny moan escapes his lips as Ian's warmth leaves his side.
Ian shrugs on a bathrobe, while there's a second knock on the door.
"Coming!" Ian calls back.
"I wish," Ray says, but Ian just flips him the bird.
"Hi," he hears Ian says. "Thank you, can you put on the room? That's awesome, thanks."
Ray imagines how Ian must look--hair dishevelled, hickey on his neck, bathrobe maybe sloppily tied, letting show slivers of Ian's skin, maybe marked with dark ink or white come or--Ray has to grip the base of his cock really tightly so he doesn't come right away. Ian's promised Ray a blowjob, and he's looking forward to it, dammit.
They eat the pizza in bed with the sheets tangled round them, filling up on greasy cheese and crust you can bend in half. He snuggles next to Ian, who wriggles an arm round him so that Ray can lean against his shoulder. It shouldn't work, Ian so much shorter than him, but it does. It’s past midnight now and Ray kind of wants to sleep for real, but Ian's stroking down his arm with his free hand, keeping him just a little on edge.
"SL?" Ian asks, stroking over the tattoo. "Someone's initials?"
"Stage left." Ray swallows down the last of his pizza with a gulp of beer. "For where I belong."
Ian kisses his cheek. "You really are kind of perfect, aren't you?"
Ray doesn't really know how to answer that.
"I don't know how to answer that," Ray admits, honest to a fault as always.
"No need to answer," Ian says, tosses his last crust and crawls into Ray's lap. "No need to talk at all, really," he adds, then leans in and takes Ray's mouth again.
Ray's totally fine with that and he kisses back with gusto, feeling less and less sleepy by the moment. Especially when Ian crawls into his lap and starts grinding down on Ray. It feels exquisite, especially once Ian shrugs out of the robe and tosses it aside and it's all naked skin rubbing off on naked skin. Ian runs hot and Ray presses up to him, wanting that heat, wanting to feel as much of him as possible.
It doesn't take long before Ian slips a hand down between them, shaping Ray's dick between their bodies. "I still owe you a blow job," he says, "been thinking about it forever, want to taste you."
Ray makes an extremely undignified noise, his voice cracking when Ian squeezes around his dick, smirking down at Ray. Fuck, he's so hot like this.
Ian kisses him again, hot and quick, whispering, "Can I suck you?"
There's no way Ray can say no to that.
Ian pauses with his lips just hovering about Ray's cock. His tongue flicks out to to taste, then he licks his lips.
"You can grab my hair, it’s ok," he says, smirking up at Ray. "I like it."
"I could tell," Ray says, before he can stop himself. Ian raises an eyebrow. "I mean," Ray continues, "you don't keep it that long if you don't like people playing with it."
"Oh, really?" Ian smirks, and looks pointedly up at Ray.
"Let me blow you next and see for yourself," Ray suggests.
"Mmmmlater," Ian hums, almost to himself. "Been waiting for this forever, one was not enough." He licks Ray’s cock again like a fucking popsicle and then goes down as far as he can, wrapping his hand round the base. He has the exact same callouses as Ray, but it’s not at all familiar the way he touches him. Ian sucks cock like he wants to DEVOUR Ray, enthusiastic and sloppy and allconsuming, and Ray’s way too old to come at the drop of a hat, he's already come twice tonight, three times should be pushing it.
And yet. Ian looks so blessed out. He looks, Ray realises, exactly like he looks on stage, especially when Ray threads his hands into Ian's curls and tugs.
Ian moans around Ray's dick, which makes Ray moan too, hitching his hips up toward Ian's mouth. He nearly apologises to Ian for just shoving his dick down Ian's throat, but Ian hums around Ray's cock and sucks harder, grabbing Ray's hip and pulling, like he wants it a bit rough, like he fucking loves it.
"Jesus," Ray pants, gripping Ian's hair harder, pulling until he's forced Ian's head back and he can see the raised tendons along Ian's neck. He looks fucking beautiful like this, totally at Ray's mercy. "Fuck, you look so good like this. Wanna fuck your mouth. Wanna come all over you, fuck."
Ray can't stop talking. He can't even believe the words are coming from his own mouth, filthy and hot. "Fuck yes, take it," he mutters as he thrusts his hips forward, and Ian does take it, tension around his eyes but his mouth is willing and wet.
Ian threads his fingers between Ray's, guiding his hand to tug harder. Ray does, twisting their fingers together as all the blood rushes to his dick. Fuck, he's so hard, so fucking ready. Ian's way too good at this.
So much for stamina. Ray can tell he's babbling, he hardly recognises his own voice, hoarse from singing and groaning and praising Ian's fucking amazing mouth. He's lost the ability to even form sentences, just clenches his hands in Ian's hair and tries to stop his hips bucking too much, even as Ian urges him forward once more. He grunts a little, content, like this is all he wants in life, Ray's dick in his mouth and Ray's hands on him. Ray kind of gives up on stamina as Ian sucks again, wet and sloppy, and before he can even warn Ian he's coming and Ian just TAKES it. He can see his throat move as he swallows.
Eventually Ian's mouth is too much on his dick, oversensitive now he's come.
"Off," he manages, "please, Ian."
Ian pulls off slowly and licks his lips. "Thought you were going to come on me," he says. Whispers, rather, and Ray's torn between feeling mortified and darkly proud that he did that.
"You didn't really give me the option," Ray says.
Ian grins. "We have to work on your stamina," he says.
Ray pulls him up. "Never was a problem before," he says. "Must be you." Then he realises what he's just said and blushes.
Ian laughs and kisses Ray. "Then we gotta work on your tolerance to me," he whispers into Ray's ear.
"Any idea how to do that?" Ian's lazily rubbing his crotch against Ray's hip, slow tiny rolls of his hips that don't seem like they're enough purchase to get him off anytime soon, though. Ray thinks he should help out Ian and wraps his hand around Ian's cock.
Ian moans, panting against Ray's neck. "Yeah," he says, stretching the sound impossibly long. Ray thinks Ian meant his hand on Ian's cock, but then Ian continues. "I think, loads of sex. Today and tomorrow and the day after, ah, after tomorrow and--"
Ray pulls Ian close for a kiss. "I can do that," he says.
The morning comes far too early for Ray’s liking. Ian is wrapped round him like a four-legged octopus and when Ray wakes he lies there, still as possible so that Ian can sleep more.
Ray doesn’t want this to end. He’s almost startled by how much he likes Ian cuddling with him, how familiar and just right it feels to have Ian’s head on his shoulder, Ian’s breath warm on Ray’s throat. Ian has his hand splayed against Ray’s side, as if he couldn’t bear to not touch Ray even while he’s asleep. It makes Ray feel warm and happy, and it’s too much too soon, and his crush is so totally out of control if he’s already falling in lo--
Ray crushes that line of thought. He’s getting ahead of himself, needs to know what Ian thinks about this--how Ian feels. Ian’s young, so much younger than Ray, and maybe Ian doesn’t--Ray tries to remember the last time he was so head over heels into someone. He can’t think of anyone.
Ian’s breathing is slow and steady, and he’s warm against Ray’s side. Ray stays awake and commits all of this to memory, just in case.
“Hey,” Ian says groggily. “What time is it?”
Ray blinks and looks at Ian. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“You didn’t,” Ian says, sounding amused. He looks at the window and groans. “Why are you awake this early?”
Ray shrugs, keeping the motion small to not disturb Ian. “Couldn’t sleep anymore.”
Right in that moment Ray’s phone starts ringing. It’s their tour manager. “Sorry, dude,” he says. “But we gotta get going. Someone’s gonna pick you up in thirty minutes. Be ready then.”
“Okay,” Ray says and hangs up. He really doesn’t want to get up, let alone leave Ian.
“Bus call?” Ian says softly. When Ray turns to look at him, Ian’s staring at Ray’s chest, biting his lip and looking impossibly young. Ray finds him terribly adorable.
“Yeah, I have to go,” Ray says.
Ian sighs and sits up. He’s quiet as Ray slips out of bed.
“Want to take a shower with me?” Ray says to break the subdued mood.
Ian grins. “How long have you got?”
“30 minutes,” Ray admits.
“I’d make you miss your ride,” Ian says. “No way am I going to be finished with you in 30 minutes.”
It feels like Ray’s heart is beating right in his throat, as Ray says quietly, “Well, then I’ll have to make sure I have lots of time next time, right?”
Ian’s smile is breathtaking. “Yes,” he says. “I’d say a whole weekend, just you and me.”
“Deal,” Ray says. He leans down to kiss Ian, just a soft quick kiss, but Ian looks rumpled and sweet and he’s still smiling, so of course Ray has to bury his hand in Ian’s hair and keep him close.
It’s Ian who breaks off the kiss after a few minutes. “Go and take a shower,” he says.
For a moment Ray can’t remember why showers are important. He’d rather spend the remaining minutes they have making out with Ian.
Ian laughs at him. “Raincheck,” he says firmly,” and Ray realises he’s just said that out loud.
Ray takes the fastest shower in history. When he comes out of the bathroom, dressed in yesterday’s clothes (and damn, those leather pants were a royal pain in the ass to put on), Ian’s sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“We still have five minutes,” Ray says.
Ian laughs as he beckons Ray closer. This time their kiss is shy and sweet. “Listen,” Ian says, “I, uh--”
Ray looks up at Ian. “Yeah?”
“I wasn’t joking,” Ian says softly. “About--wanting to see you again.”
Ray hates the fact that he has to leave soon because he wants to hold Ian close and never let go of him. “Likewise,” is all Ray can say, and he wants to hit himself because that’s the stupidest reply ever.
Ian grins, though. “I’ll call you,” he says.
“Soon, I hope,” Ray says. “God, I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Well, there’s always skype,” Ian says, leering.
Ray usually uses skype to chat with his parents. He imagines what it would be like with Ian--the two of them in their individual hotel rooms, and he would be able to both see and hear Ian, watch him as--
“Okay,” Ray says. “I’m totally down with this plan.”
Ian laughs and then Ray has to kiss him again, just because. Of course, that’s when Ray’s phone rings. It’s his ride, waiting for him in the lobby.
“I’ll miss you,” Ray says.
“Likewise,” Ian says, winking. “And now go before they send a search and rescue team.”
Ray spends the entire ride to his bus thinking about Ian. It’s the reason why he’s grinning so stupidly when he actually gets inside.
Of course, his band has made him a banner. Yay, you got laid! is written out with hearts and smiley faces surrounding it.
“Didja have a good night?” Frank’s positively bouncing up and down. “I want to know all the details!”
“How much coffee have you drunk?” Ray asks. “And, yeah, it was.”
He goes to his bunk, ignoring Frank yelling “Hey, DETAILS!”
Ray thinks that for once he can forgive his band for being interfering bastards. His phone chimes with a new text.
don’t forget me, Ian writes.
Ray replies, never. go back to sleep. Yeah, maybe his bandmates have actually done something good this time.