To be a Nobody
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,240
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,240
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Commercialism and a Case of Morning Wood
\"Dyllan, you\'re on in five,\" said a dry voice.
Dyllan scowled. He never thought being a rock singer would qualify him to advertise the world\'s ugliest clothing line. Sighing, he zipped up the chartreuse pants and tied the laces on his puke-green sneakers.
\"Oh, Dyllan,\" his manager, Tommi, walked into the dressing room, \"Your outfit looks so...nice...\"
\"It\'s hideous,\" he said flatly.
\"Well, honey, no one ever said fame came without a price.\"
He glared daggers at her.
\"Just think of the publicity, dear. It\'s a really popular brand of clothing right now. Let the ugly pants make you look good.\"
\"The pants make me look like an avocado,\" he rolled his eyes. \"Tommi, I can\'t do this.\"
\"Oh, yes you can, Dyllan Blaine.\"
\"No...no...this outfit makes me ill.\"
\"Dyllan,\" she put her arm around his shoulder, \"Would I make my favorite little brother do anything that wouldn\'t benefit him in the long run?\"
\"I dunno, but you sure wouldn\'t make him do anything that wouldn\'t benefit yourself.\"
\"Ah, little bro, just think of all the bleach-blonde teeny-boppers you\'re going to make wet by wearing that outfit.\"
\"Yes, I know,\" he sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, blond hair, \"No one\'s going to take me seriously if I wear piss-yellow pants with a shirt that says \'Babe Watcher\'. It\'s tacky.\"
\"Well, Dyllan, I guess the beautiful people at MTV will be the ones to decide that. You do realize you have a chance at the WGMR title this year.\"
He raised his eyebrows, \"Oh, yeah right, sis. Not while Alek Zevon is still breathing.\"
\"Oh please,\" she rolled her eyes, \"His band is all washed up - they haven\'t put out a decent song for the past three years. He\'s just some jaded old hardrocker that can\'t seem to move along with the times.\"
\"Alek Zevon is the greatest rocker that ever lived, Tommi,\" Dyllan countered. \"He reinvented hardrock, gave it a brand new twist. He\'s what inspired me to start playing, you remember...\"
\"Yes, yes. I recall. But he\'s not young anymore; you, on the other hand, are fresh and new.\"
\"He\'s just thirty.\"
\"And you are just twenty-one, Dyllan. You\'re a thriving sex symbol among teenage girls.\"
\"Don\'t remind me...\"
Tommi Blaine glanced down at her watch, \"Good lord, it\'s time to go, Dyllan. All right, get out there and smile and be charming. And lay it on thick - we need this publicity!\"
\"Yeah, yeah,\" Dyllan walked out toward the lights and cameras with a big, fake grin plastered to his boyish face. On the inside he felt like the World\'s Greatest Sell-out.
***
\"Dyllan! Dyllan! We love you, Dyllan!\"
Dyllan blushed as girl after girl continued to jump up and down in front of the stage.
\"Take me home with you, Dyllan! I wanna fuck you so bad!\" said a girl with waist-length hair and a large bosom.
A redhead wearing fuck-me pants countered, \"No, take me home, Dyllan. I give the best head ever - no gag reflex!\"
Dyllan tried his hardest to ignore the obscene remarks coming from his scantily-clad audience. Just then a shadowy figure with long, dark hair made his way toward Dyllan. The figure glided smoothly, gracefully across the stage. His hair matched the rest of his pitch-black attire perfectly. Dyllan realized who the man was only when the dark figure was face to face with him.
\"Alek Zevon...\" Dyllan breathed.
Zevon smiled down at him and turned toward the hoard of girls. \"Lay off, ladies. This one\'s mine.\" He turned back to Dyllan, clutching his face and kissing him violently. The fangirls gasped as Dyllan moaned beneath the man\'s soft lips, melting into oblivion as the dark rockstar kissed him senseless.
Zevon grabbed Dyllan\'s waist, pulling the blond tightly against him and thrusting his hips. Dyllan could feel the man\'s hard cock throbbing through his tight, leather pants, a sensation that nearly sent him over the edge. He returned Zevon\'s thrusts, clutching desperately at his black-garbed shoulders. Zevon continued to thrust harder and harder against him, discovering Dyllan\'s mouth with his tongue. Their passion built; Dyllan could feel a wonderful euphoria about to envelope him. Suddenly the idiot girls in the audience didn\'t matter anymore as Zevon\'s moans reached his ear.
\"Come for me, baby...\"
And Dyllan was just about to comply when...
BUZZ!
He woke with a start, reaching for the cursed alarm clock. His head was pounding, his neck had a crick, and Dyllan Blaine had a horrible case of morning wood. \"Oh for God\'s sake...,\" he scowled, and moved his hand down to relieve his unfinished business.
Dyllan scowled. He never thought being a rock singer would qualify him to advertise the world\'s ugliest clothing line. Sighing, he zipped up the chartreuse pants and tied the laces on his puke-green sneakers.
\"Oh, Dyllan,\" his manager, Tommi, walked into the dressing room, \"Your outfit looks so...nice...\"
\"It\'s hideous,\" he said flatly.
\"Well, honey, no one ever said fame came without a price.\"
He glared daggers at her.
\"Just think of the publicity, dear. It\'s a really popular brand of clothing right now. Let the ugly pants make you look good.\"
\"The pants make me look like an avocado,\" he rolled his eyes. \"Tommi, I can\'t do this.\"
\"Oh, yes you can, Dyllan Blaine.\"
\"No...no...this outfit makes me ill.\"
\"Dyllan,\" she put her arm around his shoulder, \"Would I make my favorite little brother do anything that wouldn\'t benefit him in the long run?\"
\"I dunno, but you sure wouldn\'t make him do anything that wouldn\'t benefit yourself.\"
\"Ah, little bro, just think of all the bleach-blonde teeny-boppers you\'re going to make wet by wearing that outfit.\"
\"Yes, I know,\" he sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, blond hair, \"No one\'s going to take me seriously if I wear piss-yellow pants with a shirt that says \'Babe Watcher\'. It\'s tacky.\"
\"Well, Dyllan, I guess the beautiful people at MTV will be the ones to decide that. You do realize you have a chance at the WGMR title this year.\"
He raised his eyebrows, \"Oh, yeah right, sis. Not while Alek Zevon is still breathing.\"
\"Oh please,\" she rolled her eyes, \"His band is all washed up - they haven\'t put out a decent song for the past three years. He\'s just some jaded old hardrocker that can\'t seem to move along with the times.\"
\"Alek Zevon is the greatest rocker that ever lived, Tommi,\" Dyllan countered. \"He reinvented hardrock, gave it a brand new twist. He\'s what inspired me to start playing, you remember...\"
\"Yes, yes. I recall. But he\'s not young anymore; you, on the other hand, are fresh and new.\"
\"He\'s just thirty.\"
\"And you are just twenty-one, Dyllan. You\'re a thriving sex symbol among teenage girls.\"
\"Don\'t remind me...\"
Tommi Blaine glanced down at her watch, \"Good lord, it\'s time to go, Dyllan. All right, get out there and smile and be charming. And lay it on thick - we need this publicity!\"
\"Yeah, yeah,\" Dyllan walked out toward the lights and cameras with a big, fake grin plastered to his boyish face. On the inside he felt like the World\'s Greatest Sell-out.
***
\"Dyllan! Dyllan! We love you, Dyllan!\"
Dyllan blushed as girl after girl continued to jump up and down in front of the stage.
\"Take me home with you, Dyllan! I wanna fuck you so bad!\" said a girl with waist-length hair and a large bosom.
A redhead wearing fuck-me pants countered, \"No, take me home, Dyllan. I give the best head ever - no gag reflex!\"
Dyllan tried his hardest to ignore the obscene remarks coming from his scantily-clad audience. Just then a shadowy figure with long, dark hair made his way toward Dyllan. The figure glided smoothly, gracefully across the stage. His hair matched the rest of his pitch-black attire perfectly. Dyllan realized who the man was only when the dark figure was face to face with him.
\"Alek Zevon...\" Dyllan breathed.
Zevon smiled down at him and turned toward the hoard of girls. \"Lay off, ladies. This one\'s mine.\" He turned back to Dyllan, clutching his face and kissing him violently. The fangirls gasped as Dyllan moaned beneath the man\'s soft lips, melting into oblivion as the dark rockstar kissed him senseless.
Zevon grabbed Dyllan\'s waist, pulling the blond tightly against him and thrusting his hips. Dyllan could feel the man\'s hard cock throbbing through his tight, leather pants, a sensation that nearly sent him over the edge. He returned Zevon\'s thrusts, clutching desperately at his black-garbed shoulders. Zevon continued to thrust harder and harder against him, discovering Dyllan\'s mouth with his tongue. Their passion built; Dyllan could feel a wonderful euphoria about to envelope him. Suddenly the idiot girls in the audience didn\'t matter anymore as Zevon\'s moans reached his ear.
\"Come for me, baby...\"
And Dyllan was just about to comply when...
BUZZ!
He woke with a start, reaching for the cursed alarm clock. His head was pounding, his neck had a crick, and Dyllan Blaine had a horrible case of morning wood. \"Oh for God\'s sake...,\" he scowled, and moved his hand down to relieve his unfinished business.