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Everything started since the first show of the Breach Tour.
Josh asked why he had to be the only one on stage without his shirt, seeing the display of clothes that they would be wearing and even those shirts that the singer would be wearing.
Then the stunts, even though he loves to go around the crowd and be the Torchbearer, sometimes the heat was too much and the constant anxiety of being in time for his cues was too much.
And Tyler just would be changing some upper body outfits and be all covered up, even wearing a body and some pantyhose to not show much skin. It wasn't fair, but he didn’t really complain much.
Always the docile one in the relationship.
“Josh should get dressed as the Torchbearer and go around the crowd to the B stage where he will light his torch and follow me around those songs” —”Yeah but I'll get too sweaty and uncomfortable”— “And then we should do a crowd stand from Drum Show after you sing, even if it's in an inclined part of the crowd” — “Yes, Tyler”
Until the day of the first night concert in Canada, Toronto night 1.
Backstage while Tyler was getting dressed, Josh couldn't hold back.
Always the docile, always the one saying yes without complaining.
I couldn't hold it anymore.
Tyler was getting dressed when it happened.
Those red thighs, and black bodice, an outfit that only he could wear and look that good, an outfit that only I can see.
Those red long legs and that beautiful soft tummy being hugged by the leotard made me feel a type of pressure on my pants.
We were sharing a dressing room, since the beginning we liked it that way. Being together from start to finish, always.
“Dude, have you seen the photos of you with the wet pants? They have been saying u are peeing yourself, The Torchbearer peeing himself”
I heard that soft but quirky voice…
Making fun of me.
Acting like he is the one in charge.
So I went behind him, with my arms hugging that waist and putting my chin on his shoulder.
“That's cause I'm the only one going all around, changing into so many different outfits while the star of the show just goes around getting to his knees for all the wrong reasons.
Plus… I already told everyone that it is pure passion, do you wanna feel it?”
I responded and before Tyler could come back with a sneaky and quick answer, I took him in an aggressive way from the waist, pushing him against the wall that was in front of us, just beside the mirror.
Tyler had his whole body against the wall, trapped between the dark cement and me, holding him against my body and grinding my pelvis against his ass.
As I did that, his body curved in the most beautiful way, his chest against that cold wall and curving his spine so his body fit nicely with mine.
My right hand went directly to his hair, grabbing strands of his hair firmly, enough to claim dominance but not hurt him and then I yanked it, in a way that showed that tanned and beautiful neck and I mumbled some words into it, close to his ear.
“I’m so tired… always the one running around like a puppy, like an obedient servant around his master.
But you have forgotten that I'm the one in charge here”
My tongue caressed his neck, leaving a trail of saliva as I felt the way that his body shivered under mine. Without leaving him or even letting him talk, I pushed him around, playing with him like a ragdoll only hearing his soft whimpers and grunts.
“You are such a slut Tyler… Imagine how the fans would react if they knew how you are dressed underneath the stage clothes.
That tight leotard and thighs, the way your bulge is so notorious with it and how your soft nipples as soon as I touch you go hard as a rock, and so sensible that even just a soft lick would make you beg so hard that anyone outside these walls could hear it.”
I start to kiss, bite softly and grunting against his neck, while my hand —the one that wasn’t busy pulling his hair— goes to the buttons holding the leotard closed under his crotch, I unbuttoned one by one, enjoying the way that he moves his waist trying to rub himself on me. As soon as the fabric is off his crotch, my hand goes inside his pantyhose and briefs, grabbing his cock without any thoughts behind my head other than to torture him, to have my revenge and use him.
“F-fuck… Josh, they are going to hear us.” —I hear how raspy his voice is and how he tries to keep the sounds from being too loud.
“Shut up.”
Is the only thing that I say to him, moving my hand up and down, hearing how he tries to muffle the sounds coming out of his mouth. The wet sound of his precum makes my own bulge turn into a boner, one that I press harder into his ass, grinding it and grunting into his ear while doing it.
He opens his mouth to talk again, but I'm tired of him trying to have the dominance of every situation.
So I took my hand out of his dick and with the one on his hair I yanked him and pushed him to the floor, putting him still against the wall and my body.
Seeing him on his knees, I take my dick off my boxers and with it I slap his mouth, those rosy and full lips. I slap his lips until he opens his mouth, as soon as his mouth opened up a little I just trusted myself into him.
I placed one of my hands on the wall just to steady myself while the other one stayed on his hair, grabbing those strands to guide the thrusts in a rhythm I like.
I fucked his face with a steady rhythm, since I didn't wanted to choke him to death or at least without his consent.
He gags and his glassy puppy eyes look up at me, even some tears running down his cheeks while my dicks disappear inside his mouth.
Then I yanked his hair once again, just enough to take my dick from his mouth and while he kept his mouth open I bent slightly and I spit into his mouth.
And he parted his lips and legs.
So I placed my boot into his crotch, and softly pressed it, just enough to give him something to grind on, like a little reward.
He starts to rub himself against my boot, the Torchbearer boot.
And I put my manhood again inside his warm mouth, pumping throbbing cock with his head and enjoying the way that he keeps the eye contact and how his teary eyes roll back into his head with each movement of his bulge against my body.
The frustration and need on his movement makes me smirk, the way that every thrust and hip movement trying to rub against my boot for a little release makes him look just like a little slut, my little slut.
Seeing him like that, those glossy eyes, those parted lips and the way that he is growing and even whimpering with my dick on his mouth.
Those eyes full of lust and the way that he gags every time my manhood hits the back of his throat makes me cum inside of him, seeing how his eyes get full of tears because of the overwhelming feeling.
With my hand yanking his hair I take out my cock from his oral cavity and with the other one I place it on top of his lips, making him close her mouth and to retain my cum inside of it.
“You don’t want to get all stained with cum and have your neck painted with white tears, right baby?”
I say, with a raspy and loud voice, making clear what he has to do.
And then he swallows.
But I didn’t let him go, with my hand still on his hair I made him stand up, with his thighs wet from the way he precummed onto my boot just by rubbing himself on it.
I guided him into the sofa of the Green room and I placed his waist and hips on top of the arm rest, leaving his upper body on the sofa cushions.
I leave him there, a shallow panting, ragged exhales that shows how overstimulated he is.
I admire him, the way his body is limp against the sofa, the way he looks at me with a side eye from his position, the way that he bites his lower lip.
The way he curves his spine, for me.
I go around him, caressing with my fingertips from his waist to his neck, and I press him harder against the cushions. Then, I go to my bag, that bag that I carry to every concert.
While I search for what I'm looking for, I hear how he moves, and without even looking at him I murmur
“Stay.”
And the moving stopped.
And I found what I was looking for.
The little waterproof bullet vibrator.
Pink.
With it in my hand I go back to him, carrying it with pride knowing what was about to happen.
“Guys, 10 minutes till show.”
We hear from outside the greenroom door.
I have just the right amount of time to do what I have planned.
Without letting my boy stand up from the sofa I go behind him.
“Be a good boy and open yourself for me”
Like an automatic response to my voice his black hands goes back to his bottom, grabbing each cheek and displaying his rim, without much thinking I spit into it and I worked two of my fingers inside of him, dilatating him and hearing how he shifts on the leather couch and the way he curves his spine.
After a few movements, I grab my shaft and I introduce myself to him, hearing his grunt, knowing it is a little painful for him to take me without much preparation.
The only sound coming from us are his words begging for more and my groans of pleasure.
“O-oh God, Josh, Joshua, Please” — He sounds so desperate, whining and whimpering while I see how his nails are gripping into the sofa cushions. — “Touch me, please, I beg you, oh fuck” —Every word and tone sounding like a soft cry out of his mouth, I see how he tries to take one of his trembling hands go to his pelvic section and with just a yank of his hair with my hand he stops every movement and groans strong, so strong that even got me worried that someone outside would think I’m beating him
While I fuck him one of my hands goes to his bulge, lowering softly the thighs and brief, taking out his cock and masturbating him, my hand and hips coordinated like a drum solo in the middle of a song.
I pumped my shaft inside of him and his at the same time, and after a few movements I had to take the call, we didn’t have much time and he still had to get dressed.
So I upped the rhythm, hearing even the couch make some sounds because of how violent it was and how Tyler was trying to gasp for air because of the whole overstimulation.
And then he came, and I came inside of him.
Without much thinking I took the first thing in hand and cleaned him from my seed.
Too bad it was the red beanie that he always carries around.
Then I take that bullet vibrator, and I place it inside of him, further up enough for him to not take it in a movement.
I help him stand, hearing his raspy and already exhausted intakes of breath, I clean him with the same red fabric and I pull his briefs up.
“Get ready star… we have a show to play”
I said to him with a big smile on my face, that same smile that he says makes me look like a golden retriever of a dog.
And when I was about to go through the door, he was already trying to compose himself and getting ready on those black pants and shirt. I look back at him, from up my shoulder and keeping the control remote of the vibrator inside Tyler’s ass in my pocket.
“Dude, imagine how the fans would react seeing you like this, they would love it, too bad that this show is only for me”
I said with the same tone he spoke to me in the beginning.
“And don’t dare to take that vibrator off, or I will take you on that stage in front of everyone and showed them how you are kneeling for me for the right reasons”
The concert was going really great. It was always great to be back on the stage, even if my body burned from all the playing and going around the venue, but seeing my boy shine with me by his side was more than enough for me.
Overcompensate, The Contract, RAWFEAR, We don’t believe what's on TV, House of Gold, Tear in My Heart and Backslide.
All the songs were going great, between some of them I grabbed the remote from my pocket and turned on the vibrator inside my voice, lower but enough for him to feel it while being in front of so many people.
Until it was Lane Boy’s turn and my moment had arrived.
When he was preparing to go into the crowd stand I took the control and prepared a rhythm for the toy to follow, starting low and just from nothing going really high into his settings.
That setting he had tried before and knew turned Tyler crazy and incapable of not making any sound.
I keep drumming, keeping my eyes directly into my boy, biting my lower lip while I beat the snare in a rhythm that I know so well that I can play it with my eyes closed.
Then I hear him start to whine, his normal rapping voice into some whinny sound that makes the crowd scream, he moves around the crowd stand, trying to act normal, dropping his voice a few octaves like nothing. That setting was now on.
But we both know he is feeling it, so deep inside of him and can’t do anything about it.
He steps out of the crowd and my eyes follows him into the main stage, just in front of me, in the middle of the light and grabbing his ukulele like he is trying to stay grounded.
At some point, he went and sat down, he made it look like a performance, I saw it as a way to try and control himself. He rocks his body back and fort, we cross glances and then he goes to perform again, like nothing is wrong.
And then I saw him go all around the stage, running up and down while my solo was on.
But nothing could distract me from the way he crutch in the middle of the stage while screaming, how with my last drum kick I saw him tremble and grasping the microphone, that whinny and raspy sound that the crowd would think is part of the screamo, being the reality of a long build up explosion of pleasure.
But the show must go on.
And we played around the whole setlist without any problem.
Trees ended and after the drum crowd stand we went back together to the stage, holding our bodies together and bowing in front of our fans.
And I whispered
“Such a Good Boy.”
Tapping his back three times in our way of saying I love You.
The lights went down, the crowd roared, and for a moment it was just the two of us again.