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Vessel kicks the door of the first dressing room he finds open and throws III in, shoving him so hard that the taller man slams into a chair and falls to the ground, eyeing the singer through a curtain of red hair as he tries hard to dismiss the pain in his left shoulder.
“I’m gonna make you eat my cock, III.” He shuts the door behind him.
“Ves—”
“Right here and now, III.”
He’s already undoing his belt when III forces his thoughts out in a hurry, knowing his time is short before he’s silenced for good. “Ves, please, not here. Let’s get back on the bus and I’m all yours, okay?”
“No,” the singer says bluntly, voice completely deprived of emotions despite having his cock out in his hand.
This emotionless version of Vessel who’s usually comfortable to express how he feels when he’s in costume is weird to III. Somehow, he doesn’t quite hate it, but the idea of them doing… this sort of thing on their “workplace” sits oddly with him.
“C’mon Ves,” III insists, growing nervous while his pants start to feel tighter around him. “What if the others hear us?”
“I’ll make sure you’re nice and quiet."
He slightly moans on the last word as his thumb strokes his glistening head. An average person wouldn’t catch it, but III’s trained ear has become so accustomed to Vessel’s voice that any slight change in his regular speech or usage of different pitches on stage doesn’t go unnoticed. II and IV have made sure to use III’s weakness for Vessel as their only defense mechanism against a guy who’s much taller than them and runs his mouth without the slightest trace of a filter. What can he say, Vessel knows who to turn on a crowd and, sadly, III often happens to find himself in that crowd — figuratively speaking, of course, as he gets to be on stage with the singer every night and occasionally partake in all sorts of goofy stuff together while on the clock.
Vessel barely takes a step in III’s direction that the bassist already has his mask off and eyes glued on the masked man smiling above him. “You simply can’t resist me, can you, III?”
Hearing his stage name in such a setting turns him on immensely: the band agreed to always use their stage name for the duration of their stay at a venue and, considering this is a first for the two of them to commit adultery on the workplace, it feels so wrong that III salivates when he catches a glimpse of Vessel’s inches before the head pokes his tongue, jaw already open without even realizing.
“Red hair suits you particularly well,” Vessel says softly while cupping III’s cheek, voice raw and deep from just finishing a show. “It’s a color that holds many meanings, but, personally, I like to see it as you painting yourself as my perfect whore.”
He pushes himself slowly inside of III’s welcoming mouth while his gaze drifts off to the ceiling. Under him, III’s erection rages in his pants and begs for attention from his sweet master.
Vessel’s head hangs back when he touches the back of his bassist’s throat, enjoying the feeling but annoyed there’s so much of him left untouched. Nothing that can’t be fixed though, but sometimes he wishes it’d be easier for him to bury himself deep into people with more ease; thankfully, III has been trained well and loves to have him down his throat. No matter what it takes to make Vessel feel his absolute best — as he deserves.
Tightening his grip on III, he slowly thrusts in and out to allow his peer to mentally prepare for what’s coming.
“I guess it’s the tour coming to an end—” Vessel lets out a low moan.
There’s movement on the other side of the door since the crew has started their post-show routine, so he leans back and locks it for good measure before fixing his stance above III and resuming his business. “—That got me like this… or maybe it’s your ass in those fucking joggers that got me feeling some t—type of way.”
Someone banging on the door as they walked past scares him a little which makes III smile. Vessel’s particularly adorable when he breaks character even for just a split second and, for just a moment, it makes him forget about the ache in his crotch.
“Either way,” Vessel takes hold of III’s face with both hands, still not looking at him. “There was no way in hell I was making it to the bus with this hard-on without yelling at someone.”
He slides himself in and, when he hits the back again, slowly continues as far as he can go until III’s throat requires more time to stretch. Under him, the bassist skillfully adjusts his breathing and smiles to himself when this first choke doesn’t bring tears to his eyes. He likes to test himself and see how used he’s getting to Vessel cock: still a long way to go — long definitely being the word —, but progress is progress.
This sequence goes on a few more times, Vessel looking down to see if more of his cock disappears as he pushes himself further into another man’s throat.
“Aaaaaalmost there,” he says the last time as barely an inch remains still outside of III’s lips. “But, considering the crew’s about to realize we’ve been missing, let’s cut it short, yeah?”
Even though Vessel’s eyes are hidden, III can feel his gaze on him and he nods as best as he can with a few inches of dick stiffening his neck.
Vessel’s hips begin to move faster into III, using him to his liking as the bassist is limp to allow him complete freedom over what he feels like doing to his “perfect whore”. The edges of his mouth begin to feel irritated from the salt left on Vessel’s cock after sweating through a whole set on stage — during which he was particularly heated thanks to III.
“Your throat is unbelievably tight today, III,” the singers says through gritted teeth, head tilted to the side to watch himself slide in and out of swollen lips. “Guess we should skip full foreplay more often, ‘cause fuck that feels good!”
As his movements become less and less kind, III’s struggle to match his breathing to Vessel’s hips becomes a real challenge that earns him tears down his cheeks and nose and several occasions where he straight up choked on the cock behind rammed down his throat. Naturally, his body tries to fold over to catch his breath, but Vessel keeps him perfectly straight by tangling long fingers in his red locks so tightly that more tears of pain from his scalp stream down III’s face. The pain adds to his arousal and he fights the urge to touch himself; Vessel particularly likes it when they go through a whole face-fuck session with III remaining untouched. However, he feels himself dangerously close to ruining his pants from the inside and he can’t figure out if Vessel would love or hate that and it’s a gamble he’s not willing to risk.
“You’re so fucked out, III,” the singer says cockily. “You’re really gonna walk out of here looking like that? Better keep that mask on, buddy, you look like a mess.”
Vessel’s words work their magic on III who can’t hold it any longer: if he doesn’t do something about his own erection, he’ll be the one walking out and yelling at someone with whatever remnant of voice he has left after Vessel’s done with him — and a cumstain giving him away to everyone. He moves quickly in hopes to get a few strokes done before his master notices, but his facial expression changing the second he makes skin-to-skin contact with his burning erection betrays him and Vessel sheaths himself completely down his throat to punish him, flattening a hand on the back of III’s head to force him in place.
“Wait for your turn, you fuckin’ needy ass bitch. You know you’re not allowed pleasure while I’m fucking your mouth. And don’t you fucking dare cum on my shoes, I’ll kick you off the bus if you do.”
As his tone deepens threateningly, he curls his fingers into III’s scalp to scratch it softly while he keeps him on his dick, fully aware that the bassist is getting off of this and intending to chase his own release even if the threat of running out of air in the meantime is a possibility.
“You know how these things go, III.” —The throat around his length begins to vibrate with quiet moans as III grows closer to his orgasm with one arm tightly wrapped against Vessel’s muscular leg. — “When I’m using you, you must obey my will only . Your desires are obsolete, I don’t give a shit how horny you are: if I want your throat, you’re giving it to me, if I want your ass, it better be prepped and spread when I find you…”
III shudders as hot ropes shoot out of him, face as wet as the spot he aims for between Vessel’s feet, aware that part of the threat was serious. Vessel continues to fuel his arousal in the meantime.
“If I tell you to find II and let him fuck you while I ruin your pretty face, I expect the task to be carried through to the end.”
Finally, he pulls away to allow the bassist to breathe as his face had turned as red as his body paint. III hunches over and gulps in burning air while Vessel strokes his hair with one hand working on himself, also soon to reach his own release and refusing to lose the momentum — especially now that their time is short.
The singer leans forward and grabs a handful of III’s hair to force his eyes up onto his mask. “You belong to me, III. You’re my little slut.”
His cock is quickly returned where it belongs and, this time, III grabs onto Vessel’s legs to hold himself up no matter what his body begs of him. There’s nothing he loves more than the nicknames Vessel gives him and it fuels his desire to not disappoint as his climax approaches.
Above him, Vessel’s hips start to jerk incoherently and his voice cracks, but he refuses to stop talking. “You’re fucking cute and obedient and — fuck — breedable. So… desperate for my touch, III, you’re… you’reeee…”
But, eventually, he can’t fight it anymore as words turn into moans and his head hangs loosely, parking himself so far within III’s throat that his pelvis presses hard against the bassist’s nose in the process. He stays there until all of his seed has been dumped into III, pulls out and kneels to steal a fiery kiss from his mate, flattening his palms on III’s knees as a comforting gesture.
“You’re so good to me, III,” he lets out softly before pecking his cheek and standing up, offering his bassist a hand to help him to his feet as well.
They fix themselves and, before Vessel walks out first, he’s yanked back into another, softer embrace, melting into III.
“Vessel, you’re otherworldly,” III says while pulling away, keeping his eyes closed for a few more seconds to engrave the memory in his brain forever.
His broken voice makes Vessel chuckle. “Hope that’s a compliment!”
III nods, speaking sincerely, unfazed by the way he sounds. “Oh, yes. It most certainly is.”
They exchange one last quick kiss before III puts his mask back on and Vessel unlocks the door, blending in with the rest of the crew seamlessly.