Yield the Floor
by
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.9){kind=small}
aneli8 and soundslikejMCR, Bob/Frank, NC17, ~2500 words, pure porn.
Bob's learned that it's in his best interests to keep an eye on Frank while they're onstage, if only to know when he might be called on to protect the virtue of his kit. Usually it's an occasional thing, a quick glance around the stage to check where Frank is, see who he's grinding up against at that particular moment, but then sometimes there are the nights that Frank can feel Bob's eyes on him, the nights when he'll glance back over his shoulder, and Bob will be watching him as he plays, quick sharp glances, mouth open, muscles in his arms straining as he pounds his drums.
Some nights, Frank just can't help but have a little fun with it.
There's a pause in his part, while Ray's off on the other side of the stage shredding away, and Frank can feel Bob watching him as he just drops. The mic is there, low to the ground, and it's only too easy to lean forward, press his mouth to it, hands crossed behind his back where Bob can see them. He stays there for a moment, still, catching his breath, and he can hear the stutter of Bob's sticks against his kit in a brief unfamiliar beat before he catches himself.
Frank's grinning as he stands, makes his way back across the stage, stands there in front of Bob and plays up at him until the end of the song.
They make it through the rest of the set, and Frank's barely offstage before Bob's hands are on him, steering him towards the doors. "Go," he says, low and rough beside Frank's ear, and Frank leans back into his hands, half wanting Bob to drag him into the bathroom right there in the venue, take him right up against the wall. But it's a hotel night, and Bob's hands are steady and firm against him as they guide him towards the door, out into the biting air.
They're barely through the door of their room before Bob has Frank face down on the bed. It catches Frank completely off guard, and he makes this breathy half-laugh noise, tries to turn around and grin up at Bob for being all pushy. Only he gets as far as pulling his knees under him before Bob leans forward and pins him in place.
Frank's laugh catches in his throat when he feels Bob pull his arms back and cross them right at the spot where Frank's spine curves inward. He holds them there with both hands, and shoves a knee between Frank's thighs, forcing them farther apart.
For a moment, there's only the sound of their breathing, and the feel of Bob running his thumb over the pulse points in Frank's wrists.
"Okay?" Bob asks, rough and low. "Is this--"
Frank's "yes" comes out as a hiss through gritted teeth. He's breathing in short, sharp gasps now, and his voice is muffled against the mattress when he says "yes, yeah, I want--"
It's all Bob needs to hear, because he's shifting his grip on Frank's hands, reaching one arm around to fumble at the clasp of Frank's belt buckle, and it's an awkward position, but Frank can't help trying to grind down against Bob's fingers. He's hard, and his dick is straining almost painfully against the zipper of his jeans, but Bob ignores it and just pulls the belt out of its loops.
Frank feels another shift in pressure around his hands, and then leather. Bob's wrapping the belt around Frank's wrists, pulling it just tight enough to be secure, and when Frank can't quite bite back a moan, he pulls just a little tighter.
"Stay there," Bob says, and the mattress dips as he moves off the bed.
And Frank stays - of course Frank stays, because Bob asked him to (Bob told him to) - but he tests it, just a little, twisting his wrists in the grip of the leather, squirming a little on the bed, and then Bob's hand is there - without Frank even hearing him come back - pressing down against the small of his back, shoving him into the bed, making his back curve and arch against the touch.
"I told you to stay there," he says, leaning close to Frank's ear, the heat of his body pressing up all along Frank's back, and Frank nods, biting his lip at the feeling of Bob's hand sliding up his back to his neck, gripping the back of it hard, just briefly. "I could leave you here, you know," he says, and his hand slides back down to the hem of Frank's shirt, skims up under the fabric, touching the tattoos on his back, sliding around to grip his hip. "I could tie you to the bed and leave you, keep you from getting yourself off at all." Frank makes a muffled noise, his face pressed against the bedspread, and Bob hmms in what sounds like satisfaction. "Yeah," he agrees. "I don't like that option much either."
He slips his hand into the back of Frank's pants, smoothing his fingers over the curve of his ass, and then he's shoving at the waistband, nudging Frank up with his knee. Frank moves obligingly, letting Bob pull his pants off, then kneels again when Bob's hand presses him back into the bed. Bob's fingers are warm in comparison to the air of the room, and he presses into them as they slide over his hips, his stomach (the bird tattoos move as his skin shudders a little, ticklish), then back to cup his ass. He presses back against them, and Bob leans in, bites his neck, hard. He cries out, startled, and then Bob's sliding down the bed, his fingers sliding gently - so gently, hardly even enough friction to feel - down the cleft of his ass.
"Bob," he says, twisting his head to gasp in some air, and Bob hmmms again, further away, down the bed, and then his mouth is touching to Frank's wrists, just over the belt, licking down over his fingers, sucking them into his mouth one by one, Frank squirming helplessly against the bed until he realizes he's still talking, repeating Bob's name, interspersed with pleases, and he can practically feel Bob's smug smile as Bob leans in and Frank feels his tongue against him, hot and wet and teasing, the faint scrape of stubble against his ass.
He completely loses track of time. The world narrows to individual sensations-- the scratch of the hotel blanket against his face, the tight grip of the leather around his wrists, the way the light of the lamp filters through his hair as it hangs down around his face. And Bob. Bob's hands on the top of his thighs, fingers strong and splayed open across his skin. Bob's mouth, right there, tongue pressing and licking and leaving wet trails from the top of Frank's ass to the base of his balls.
Bob takes his time. Like Frank's not making high, whining noises and doing his best to find something to rub his cock against. Bob just keeps going, keeps stroking his tongue over nerve endings Frank didn't know he had, keeps tilting his head this way and that, causing Frank to twitch at the feel of the stubble against his skin. And then Bob breathes, just a tiny huff of breath that makes Frank's whole body shiver, and puts his lips right against the puckered skin he's been tonguing. Like a kiss, hot and wet, and Frank can't stop himself from digging his toes into the bed and letting out a string of curses.
"FuckfuckfuckBobfuckpleasepleasefuck," and he tries to keep still, he really does, only the thing Bob is doing to him just right then is maybe the single most mindblowing thing that's ever happened, and Frank can't. He can't not push back against the warmwetheat, and he can't not spread his legs out and apart to press his cock against the bed.
The sharp bite of Bob's teeth on his ass makes him cry out.
"Frank," he hears from behind him, quiet and deep.
Frank forces himself to still.
"Get back on your knees."
It's nowhere near graceful, and it takes a few moments of scrambling to get his legs folded under him again, but Frank more or less manages.
"I want," Bob says, just as quiet as before, "you to stay like that. Just like that, understand."
It's not a question, but Frank nods anyway, not trusting his voice.
Bob says, "I'm going to fuck you," and Frank nearly comes from the words alone.
"I'm going to spread you open with my fingers, I'm going to wait until you beg for it, and then I'm going to fuck you. If at any point you move from this position," he leans down and kisses the spot he bit earlier, "I'll stop."
Frank holds himself still, shaking, and Bob doesn't touch him for a long while, doesn't move at all, just sits there beside him, looking at him. Then he moves around a little, and Frank can hear the snap of a bottle, the wet sound of Bob slicking his fingers, and he catches his breath, holds it, trying to keep himself from squirming.
"Breathe," Bob says quietly, and his dry hand smoothes down Frank's back, from the nape of his neck to where his hands are joined. It stays there, tangling into Frank's fingers, holding them still, and then the fingers of his other hand are pressing against him, wet and cold, then pushing in, and Frank bites the bedspread to keep from crying out, from shoving himself back against Bob's hand, fucking himself onto Bob's fingers. "Good," Bob says after a few minutes of fucking him slowly - so slowly it's fucking painful, it's actually going to kill Frank if he doesn't get more soon.
"Bob," he says finally, not a request, not really, just...he can't not.
Bob stills for a moment, and Frank groans, burying his face against the bed, but then Bob's saying "Yeah. Yeah, okay," and adding another finger, pushing into Frank harder, rocking him against the bed with the force of his movement. "If I told you to come, right now, just from this..." Bob says and trails off, and Frank makes a strangled noise, twisting his wrists hard, the feeling of the leather pulling against his skin not nearly distraction enough. "I'm not," Bob tells him, leaning forward, his stubble scraping against the back of Frank's neck as he presses himself to Frank's back, and Frank lets his head fall forwards, pushing back just the slightest bit, wanting Bob to drape himself over him like that as he fucks him.
"Bob. Please," he finally chokes out, and Bob's fingers twist inside of him, sharp and sudden and so good Frank has to close his eyes, bury his face in the sheets, breathe slow and even for a few moments, just to keep from coming, or maybe blacking out, he's not sure. "Please, now, just - "
"Frank," Bob says, low and dangerous, "you're moving," and Frank stills abruptly, breathing shallowly, face pressed into the sheets, shaking just a little as Bob pulls off him and he hears the soft clank of a belt being undone, feels the bed shifting beneath them. He doesn't say anything, doesn't move, he just waits. Bob's hands brush over his ass, up his back, his arms, down and around his chest, pulling him back against him, and Bob's right there, cock hard and hot against Frank's ass, rubbing against him, Bob's hips moving with just the right amount of control, just enough force that Frank's already imagining them shoving him down harder into the bed. He just narrowly keeps himself from letting out a whimper, biting hard on his lip, and he can almost feel Bob's approval in the way his hands slide over Frank's sides, one of them pausing at his hip to grip him hard, the other pulling back, away, and then Bob's readjusting, leaning over him, and his cock is sliding so slowly into Frank as he lets out this low noise, halfway between a sigh and a groan.
A pleased smile only gets to flicker over Frank's face for a moment at that, at the tiny broken quality of the sound, before Bob's other hand is landing on Frank's hip, and his fingers are tightening, pulling Frank back against him, hips jerking forward, fast, hard, almost too much after all of this. "Bob," he gasps out, "oh goddamn motherfuck, Bob, I can't - " and he's shaking, arms aching from pulling so hard at the belt, trying to touch himself, but Bob just takes his hands from Frank's hips, leans forward, pressing himself along the length of Frank's back as he fucks him, pounding him into the bed.
Frank gets lost in it for a while, the aching of his back with each thrust of Bob's hips, the delicious burn of friction as Bob fucks into him, the press of Bob's mouth - his lips, his teeth, his tongue - to the back of his neck, his shoulders, the sounds that Bob makes as he holds Frank still and fucking uses him. Then Bob's letting out this choked gasp, saying, "Now, Jesus God, Frank, now," and his hand's fumbling against Frank's cock, just the briefest touch, just something to press against, and Frank's coming harder than he's ever come in his life, writhing beneath Bob and letting out incoherent noises as Bob's hips snap into him faster, harder, and then still abruptly, Bob letting out a stream of curses against Frank's back.
He collapses down on him for a brief moment or two, but then rolls off almost immediately, hands going to the belt around Frank's wrists, undoing it, pulling it off, massaging the skin there. Frank lets his legs fold out from under him, making a weak little noise into the bedspread at the welcome pressure of Bob's fingers, then tilting his head up when Bob nudges at his face with his other hand.
"M'okay," he mumbles, and Bob lets out this shaky little sigh. "Jesus fuck, Bryar."
"Mmm," Bob agrees, then flops down onto the bed beside him. "My turn to not move."
"Ever," Frank agrees. He rolls around a little, just enjoying the ability to stretch his muscles, and then he curls up along Bob's side, Bob making a noise that might be contented or grumpy, Frank's not sure which, until Bob's arm comes up, wraps around him. He presses his face to Bob's shoulder, and falls asleep halfway through outlining a brilliant plan for what he's going to do onstage the next night.
2009-10-04 04:36 pm UTC
Hooooooo boy, me likey.
2009-10-05 02:19 pm UTC
2009-10-04 04:41 pm UTC
2009-10-05 02:19 pm UTC
Glad you liked! Thanks!
2009-10-04 04:45 pm UTC
2) ILU. :DDDDDDD
2009-10-04 06:01 pm UTC
NO U.
2009-10-04 04:51 pm UTC
This is great and nrrrrgh. There's something about Bob pushing Frank down and making him obey, something about Frank's pigtail-pulling antics giving way to his willingness that just works so perfectly for their dynamic. I don't think I will ever get tired of it, especially when it's written so well. <3
2009-10-04 05:00 pm UTC
a) Jai is kind of persuasive.
b) I'm kind of easy.
2009-10-04 08:10 pm UTC
2009-10-05 02:20 pm UTC
2009-10-04 04:52 pm UTC
2009-10-05 02:21 pm UTC
&them;
2009-10-04 07:20 pm UTC
2009-10-05 02:21 pm UTC
2009-10-04 08:37 pm UTC
:fans self:
2009-10-05 02:21 pm UTC
2009-10-05 02:37 am UTC
2009-10-05 02:27 pm UTC
2009-10-05 04:32 am UTC
Oh my.
2009-10-05 02:27 pm UTC
2009-10-05 01:32 pm UTC
Amazing.
2009-10-05 02:27 pm UTC
2009-10-15 09:06 pm UTC
Thanks, guys! I guess I'll have to stop mocking and start encouraging your vices if they lead to yummy hawt fic like this! <3!
2009-10-23 08:14 am UTC
Oh, yeah.
2009-10-27 09:28 pm UTC
I'm gonna thank the great good thing that I stumbled on this one, best bob/frank that I've read in some time!
2009-11-05 07:39 pm UTC
*passes out*
2009-11-16 12:43 am UTC