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The stark contrast between Jonny and Will always blew Chris’s mind.
When Will would corner him on their tour bus or backstage after a show, it would always lead to a very wild ride. The drummer liked the push Chris against the wall, crush his body with his own and kiss him until his lungs felt like they were on fire. Will liked to pull on Chris’s hair just enough to make his eyes water and to dig his nails into the singer’s skin just enough to draw blood on his hips or back. There would be no foreplay or preparation. Usually, Chris would simply end up being turned around and pushed again the wall, the drummer’s length impaling him unforgivingly. Chris never escaped these little encounters unmarked, his body mapped with everything from bite marks to scrapes, from bruises to incredibly sored muscles.
Jonny was Will’s polar opposite. Whenever they were alone, the guitarist always seemed fully content to simply spend hours kissing Chris. Their kisses were never fights for dominance, they were always just a sweet tangle of tongues, both giving and taking. Jonny seemed to love running his hands on the singer’s pale skin and tangling them in his hair. He would undress him slowly, kissing and licking every patch of newly exposed skin, leaving Chris shaking and panting with need. As Jonny gently pushed into him, he would always keep his eyes glued to Chris’s, kissing him each and every time he winced or groaned.
Like fire and ice, they both marked his mind and body in totally different ways. Yet, he ached to find out what a night spent with the both of them would be like. Would Will’s aggressiveness rub onto Jonny, or would Jonny’s tenderness be too much for him to take? Chris had made it his personal goal to answer those questions before the tour was over. Grinning to himself, he slowly walked back to the tour bus, his whole body humming with anticipation.