Chapter Text
III huffed as he shifted around in his bunk uncomfortably. The rumble of the bus engine would've normally been enough to lull him to sleep, but tonight, rest evaded him no matter how hard he tried. He itched to stretch his legs out on an actual bed instead of being cramped up in a bunk that was decidedly not made for someone of his stature.
He grumbled and rolled onto his other side, staring at the thin privacy curtain separating him from the rest of the bus. The sound of IV snoring softly in the bunk beneath him was all that broke the silence beyond the hum of the engine, and he wished he hadn't lost his damn earbuds at the last venue. Some music would've been lovely right about now.
Feeling far too restless to stay still, he unhooked his curtain and swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, landing on the floor as quietly as he could. He snuck out into the front lounge, curling up on the couch and tucking his legs up against his body. They were driving through the middle of nowhere so the phone service was spotty at best, but he had a few shitty mobile games that were supposed to work without data. So, with nothing better to do, he picked a game at random, hoping the mindless task would be enough to bore him to sleep.
Around twenty minutes had passed before he genuinely started to feel tired. He pocketed his phone, yawning and scrubbing a hand over his face. Christ, his eyes hurt; he really should've flicked on a light or something instead of sitting in the dark. He stretched his legs out, stood up, and then shuffled back towards the bunks, hoping that he'd be able to catch at least a few hours of sleep before the early birds of the bus woke.
As he stood in front of his bed, preparing to hoist himself up, a quiet noise caught his attention. He immediately shook it off, of course; buses weren't exactly quiet, and with both his bandmates and a few crew members all bunked in the same area, extra noise was to be expected. When he heard it again though, he could've sworn it came from Vessel's spot. Now that was curious. Vessel hardly ever made any noise after going to bed unless he had a nightmare, so III had reason to be a little concerned. Not that he couldn't handle it by himself, of course — Vessel was perfectly capable of calming down on his own most of the time — but III still felt guilty when he wasn't there to help. Some extra comfort never hurt, after all.
He stood stock-still, silent as a mouse, and now that he was actively listening, he finally heard what the noise really was: the slightest, softest of gasps. III narrowed his eyes, grinning slightly to himself. He knew what that sound meant all too well. Vessel probably assumed that everyone else was fast asleep by now, and thought he'd finally have the closest thing he'd get to a moment alone while stuck on the road — as if any of them ever had privacy while living with so many people.
While III would've normally left him (and anyone else on the bus, for that matter) alone in this situation, pretending like he hadn't heard anything in the first place, he was in the mood for a little fuckery. Vessel had been a total menace both on stage and off, after all; wanting a bit of payback was only natural. Besides, if it really bothered him, he could always tap out. He'd fuck off right back to his own bunk if Vessel seemed genuinely upset.
With his newfound plans in place, he crouched down next to Vessel's bunk across the hall from his own, waiting for the moment to strike. Another tiny gasp escaped the thin privacy curtain, though this time it was obviously muffled into his pillow. He must've really thought he was being sneaky. Cute.
III poked the curtain. "Psst," he whispered. "Havin' fun without me?"
He waited for a response, but it never came. III huffed to himself and shifted on his heels. Then, before he could think better of it, he unclipped the curtain and pushed it back a few inches; just enough to get a good look inside. Vessel's back was turned to him, his earbuds blocking out the sound of the rest of the bus. Ah. That must've been why he didn't respond.
The moment the dim light of the hall filtered into his bunk though, Vessel yanked out one earbud and whipped his head back to stare at the intruder, his eyes blown wide and a look of surprise and embarrassment on his face.
"Hey baby," III said with a cruel grin. "What'cha up to?"
Vessel scowled at him. "Fuck off," he mumbled, his voice rough. "I'm... I'm busy."
"Really? Is that any way to talk to your boyfriend?" III's voice was saccharine. "C'mon, I'm just having a little fun. Lighten up."
When a shiver visibly shook Vessel's body, III finally dared to move his gaze away from his flushed face. He trailed his eyes down to see Vessel's hand tucked into his boxers, moving at a steady pace beneath the fabric. The distraction hadn't even been enough to get him to pause. Little pervert, III thought, as if he wasn't the one to intrude on his alone time in the first place.
"Besides," he added, "you don't seem too bothered." He gestured vaguely towards Vessel's lower half.
Vessel grumbled and let his head fall back down onto the pillow, his face impossibly pink — it was a good look on him. He made no effort to close the curtain and instead just focused back on his phone, which was currently propped up on the wall of the bus. III bent himself down even further to get a better look at the tiny screen. He had never really cared to be privy to what sorts of porn the others got off on, but now that the opportunity has already presented itself, he was deathly curious.
It was hard to get a good look at this angle, but he was pretty sure he got the gist of it; a lithe, pretty man folded over what looked to be an equally pretty woman in a short skirt and a sweater, thrusting into her at a relaxed pace. Their faces were just out of the shot, the camera focused instead on where their bodies met, at the slow roll of the man's hips against her plush backside. It wasn't exactly to III's own tastes, but it was hot nonetheless, and if Vessel liked it, who was he to judge?
Then, through the discarded earbud swung over Vessel's shoulder, he caught a snippet of the audio. It was tinny and almost too quiet to hear, but III did a double take anyways; neither of their voices sounded like a woman. The choked out moans of the bottom were whiny, sure, but unmistakably masculine.
"Don't think you've mentioned being into that before," III teased quietly. It didn't truly surprise him — feminine clothing was awfully tame compared to a lot of the other shit he liked — but it was fun to make Vessel squirm over it anyways.
"Shuddup," Vessel mumbled into the fabric of his pillow. III saw his hand speed up slightly and he snickered to himself.
"They're real pretty, I'll give you that. You've got good taste." He reached out to trail his fingers down the nape of Vessel's neck, teasing at the wispy hairs to make him shiver.
Vessel lifted his head from the pillow again just enough to shoot a glare at III. "Fuck you," he grumbled, though his words held little venom. Just annoyance.
"Maybe at the next hotel." III flashed him a shit-eating grin.
His lover inhaled sharply, avoiding eye contact and going straight back to staring at the screen instead of acknowledging his comment. The man on top sped up, pounding into the pretty thing beneath him at a punishing pace, and Vessel couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. Or, at the very least, he didn't want to acknowledge the fact that III was also seeing every bit of it.
"Shit... That's really got you worked up, hasn't it?" III murmured. His dick was beginning to fill out, so he palmed at his joggers just to take the edge off. "I should watch you more often. This is fun."
This time, Vessel hardly managed to choke back a whine, subduing the noise by burying his face into the pillow.
"Quiet, love. You don't wanna wake anyone up, do you?"
III heard him fucking growl under his breath.
"I wouldn't be making any noise if you would just let me finish alone," he hissed.
"And yet you still haven't shut the curtain on me. This ends on your terms, baby." Then, he leaned in close and murmured, "Besides, I think you're enjoying this far too much to stop."
Vessel froze like a deer in headlights and III grinned a predatory smile.
"Am I wrong?"
For a moment he worried he might've pushed a bit too hard, that maybe he needed to give him an easy opening to tap out, but then Vessel was shaking his head softly, his expression beyond embarrassed as he started to stroke himself with renewed fervor. He must've been leaking pretty bad, because now III could hear every slick slide of his hand against his cock. It was quiet, but still there nonetheless.
"Knew it. You're not sneaky, Ves." He snickered as quietly as he could. "Go on, get back to your little video. Make yourself feel good."
Vessel huffed but did as he was told. He had yet to put the other earbud back in, so III could still make out bits and pieces of the audio. The bottom was starting to get loud, whimpering and rambling about how good it felt, and the top just sped up in response, shifting their position until the bottom's torso was almost entirely pinned to the bed, trapped beneath him like prey. III changed his mind; this was definitely something he could get into.
"So... which one would you wanna be, hm?"
He choked on his own breath and slowed down a little, risking a frustrated glance back at III.
"Oh, don't give me that look. I'm just curious."
Vessel's breathing was a little ragged and he swallowed, his throat bobbing in a way that made III want to cover it in bruises. Save it for another night, he told himself. This was far too entertaining to interrupt it with his own desires.
"C'mon, surely you've got a preference. Do you wanna get all dolled up like that? Make yourself even prettier for us?"
Much to his surprise, Vessel only shrugged half-heartedly. Not totally uninterested, though certainly not enthusiastic like he expected him to be. He continued to jerk himself off at the same pace as before, but it still wasn't the reaction III was hoping for.
III gave him a moment to stew in the silence before he grinned, an evil thing. "Oh. You wanna be the one on top, don't you? Get one of us to dress up like that?"
Vessel didn't say anything, but the flush across his chest was enough to tell him he hit the nail on the head. The fact that his hand started to speed up again was only further proof.
"Fuck," III breathed. "That's new. And hot."
"S-Shit, stop talking, you're gonna wake someone up—"
"You don't need to play it cool, Ves. C'mon baby, I know you like the idea of one of us bouncing on your lap in an outfit like that." Then, to really do him in, he whispered in his ear, "And don't you reckon I'd look good in a skirt anyways?
Regardless of whether or not III would ever follow through, Vessel screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip harshly to hold back a pitiful little noise, jacking himself off as fast as his hand would allow. The thought alone was enough to have him spiraling.
"You would," Vessel managed to spit out. "Fuck, you'd look so pretty, with your gorgeous fucking legs and y-your long hair, and— shit, o-oh god..."
His free hand grabbed at the pillow with a crushing grip, burying his face in the fabric as his breathing grew harsher. The wet sound of his fist made III feel dizzy. Vessel's hips started to twitch, and before III could even get another word in, Vessel was coming, beads of white seeping through the fabric of his boxers. He stroked himself through it, breathing heavily into his pillow with a look of pure bliss.
When he finally came down from his high, he pulled his hand away from his softening cock and out of his boxers, cringing at the sticky mess coating his fingers. He frantically grabbed at the tissue box in the corner of his bunk, glaring at III when he snickered at him.
"What's so funny?" Vessel mumbled. His voice was even rougher than it was when III first interrupted him, though this time it was probably just from exhaustion.
"Really? You came in your boxers? "
"Oh, fuck right off." Vessel tried to look angry, but even he smiled a little, caught up in the post-orgasm glow. The attempts to steel his expression were unsuccessful. "These were dirty already. It's less of a mess this way. Nothing on the blankets, see?"
"Whatever makes you feel better," III told him, kissing the back of his neck. He didn't actually give a shit — he'd be a total hypocrite if he did — but Vessel was just so easy to tease. His lover shivered at the touch, but the moment III leaned back, Vessel waved his own arm out of the bunk to shoo him away.
"Now piss off, you perv. I need to change and sleep."
III smiled despite the fact that Vessel couldn't see him. "Goodnight. I love you even though you're an ungrateful prick."
This time, Vessel snorted. He turned back, already looking like he was actively falling asleep, and whispered, "I'll get you back for this. Mark my damn words."
"I'm looking forward to it, baby."
And with that, he shut Vessel's curtain for him, leaving him to his own devices. It was the least he could do. After a moment he stood up, wincing as his knees cracked, and he crawled back up into his own bunk. He was very hard, his erection leaving an obvious tent in the thin fabric of his joggers, but he had no real energy left to take care of it.
Even though he was truly tired now, his mind was swimming with far too many thoughts to actually rest. New kinks were fun to explore, but this just seemed so tame in comparison to many of Vessel's other interests. It was only clothing. Why hadn't Vessel mentioned it sooner? Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? And if that was the case, how in the world was this somehow worse than his other, objectively far more depraved, kinks?
He sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Knowing Vessel, he might just wake up and pretend like none of this never happened, no matter if he willingly played along the night before. Getting him to sit down and have a proper talk would be hell.
It wasn't like he could do much about it while still on tour though, so III forced his brain to shelve the thoughts for later and covered himself up with a blanket as best he could without banging his knees on the ceiling. He'd think about where to go from here once they were settled back home. At the moment, it was hard to think about much else other than performing, staying sane while bunking with a small army, and not getting sick while living in what might as well have been a human-sized petri dish.
With his racing thoughts in slightly better order, he finally let himself rest, the movement of the bus soothing him to sleep.