Velvet Rope
Prolog
Terrany
Stitches
Someone had once told a child of fate. Some things were very plainly meant to happen. When the woven threads of time are placed together interlocking so many stories, lies, and truths sometimes there is a spare thread that you can very simply pull and it will remove with it a top layer revealing a different pattern than the one you thought you saw. Despite the paths that are walked, the encounters made, and relationships formed with different people in different times, he was told, that some of it was planned. He didn’t put much into this idea, that people walked a course that someone else had planned for him, but sometimes he tripped and noticed that someone seemed to be pointing a new way for him and so he did the only thing he could and followed that path.
The concert was amazing, the music was breathe taking, and the band was in front of him. He was one of three lucky fans who got to meet the band and he stood in the back as the two girls squealed and jumped around. Yes, his heart was beating. Yes, he couldn’t peel his eyes off of his four idols. Yes, he was gripping the first CD they ever released in a death hold. No, he would never dare to approach them.
That’s what he remembered from before now, before he found himself squirming and helpless to experienced hands, pinning him and demanding from him. How could he say no? He didn’t know, it was too scary, too unreal, too intimate. Everything in him told him to go for it, that he was lucky for such a shot, not like he was a virgin or anything. Still, he was terrified.
He didn’t want to be seen as easy in the eyes of this man, but he could have very simply, by now. What else do you call his type? The fact was that he was a slut and now he was tossing aside all moral fibers to feel the heavy form on top of him. Something in him screamed that Chris would be furious but who was Chris at a time like this? He was locked in battle with this famous mouth, feeling his larger hands touch his sides and run under his shirt.
Aiden whined, touching his cheek and running slender fingers through dark hair and the older man pushed him down on the couch and lifted the red hair from his shoulders and over the arm of the couch. He left a trail of kisses down his cheek and neck and Aiden arched towards his lips, his legs on either side of the superstar and hands on his shoulders.
“How old did you say you were?”
“Eighteen.” He answered, quickly, and his Tripp pants were tugged down.
This was the moment he had to say no, if there was one. This was probably a game he was too young to be playing - but in his short years of having a sex life this was the first person he actually wanted to say yes to, rather than feeling obliged to. If this was what it felt like to want your partner he imagined it wasn’t a terrible act. Normally he checked the time and wondered how long he’d be pleasing his partner and wish it went by fast. Now he wasn’t daring to look at the time, he wanted all of this and he wanted it to stand still so that he could be under this man forever.
Someone walked in and he didn’t dare lift his eyes, he watched the way the dark hair moved over his chest and he studied how large the hands were on his stomach. He was studying his muscular shoulders and large arms, the way when he held his body up over Aiden he could tell that the man worked out. A finger was pressed in him and he hissed, hating that initial feeling, he hated the slimy feeling of the lube and the intrusion itself, but he wasn’t saying no. Not now. When he whined there were those lips again and Aiden closed his eyes, falling into the kiss. His legs were pressed up and he dug his heel into the back of the couch to allow his partner access as he was finger fucked roughly. He could feel the man’s erection and he went to touch it, but the finger withdrew and his hands were collected and pinned above him. The man on top broke the kiss to whisper, “No touching.” in his ear and Aiden gasped at the feel of warm breath against his ear.
“Oh, please...” He whimpered again and he liked the way Aiden tensed so he licked the shell of his ear and blew on it and Aiden was hard and begging below him. “Don’t tease. Please, Vincent. Oh my fucking God. Fuck me.” He wiggled now for contact and Vincent kissed him again, positioning himself against his pink entrance and pushed in roughly.
Aiden screamed into the kiss. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to that feeling, and Vincent was so much bigger than anyone he’d ever been with. He wriggled to adjust and moaned into the kiss wanting the friction to start so that he could feel Vincent hit his sweet spot. He broke the kiss to make an unusual demand but Aiden thought Vincent was being much too soft just based on his smaller size.
“Hurt me, damn it!” There was a moment that passed between the two where the rock star just looked at his willing fan, surprised really. He didn’t believe for two minutes this boy was eighteen yet, but fuck it. When did you meet someone that looked like Aiden? Vincent had never seen his shade of red grow naturally from someone, and his emerald green eyes seemed to make him that more unusual. As long as Aiden claimed to be eighteen he’d take his willing body, but now he was demanding Vincent hurt him? He’d tried to be gentle and nice because Aiden was too slender, too easily broken. This was too delicious of a command.
Aiden moaned pushed back against his thrusts as he fucked him roughly, keeping his hands pinned. There was no gentle touches or kisses anymore. He fucked him pulling whines and moans from this red head’s lips. His kisses were bruising and he pinched his nipple making him scream. He liked the sound so he put his lips to the injured spot, licking it and then biting down again. He tensed, screaming Vincent’s name and his passage became tight around Vincent dick so he continued the abuse. The couch creaked in protest and he felt Aiden’s and his bodies become slick against each other as they worked towards a climax. He bit Aiden’s ear and the younger moaned loudly, as he felt the warmth of his cum against his stomach. Aiden tightened around Vincent and he slammed into him once more pushing his release into the boy.
They laid there for a moment and Vincent let go of his hands to grab a cigarette and he lit it, not bothering to move from the fan who now rested his hands against his chest , watching him breathe with the utmost of fascination. Aiden tipped his chin up to look at Vincent as he studied him.
He waited a moment, quietly, and Vincent seemed surprised Aiden hadn’t done something, though he couldn’t imagine what. The cigarette was placed in his glass of Jack Daniel’s next to the couch and Vincent kissed his neck, suggesting they move to the bedroom.
Was it a wet dream? He didn’t want to open his eyes to see. But then…Was that the smell of sex? His body hurt.
The light was blinding, but when did he take the heavy drapery off his windows?
“Ngh.” His head hurt and he shifted slightly, surprised he couldn’t move. Something moved outside where he slept, which he wasn’t placing immediately. It could be an array of spots, he supposed, so he finally opened his eyes frowning at the floral pattern at the wall he was facing. Who the fuck picked that wallpaper? Because they needed to be shot publicly.
“Vincent!” Aiden whined at the loud voice he didn’t recognize and his stomach did flip flops as he remembered last night. Vincent?
“Go away.” He felt the body next to him move closer and then a drum beat started in the next room.
“Where were you last night?” He heard the door knob move but he knew it was locked. The drum beat got faster and he heard the TV turn on and the news report start. There was the smell of coffee, as well.
“God damn it.” The man let go of Aiden and swung his legs over the bed, at first cradling his head in his palm, then leaving the bed to open the door and address whoever it was speaking on the other side, “Can I have a moment?” He asked annoyed, and Aiden buried his face in the blankets as the cold hit him as well as his hangover.
There was a whistle to approve of Vincent’s lack of clothes and someone yelled from the other room about not needing to see that. Vincent left and Aiden sat up to force his eyes to see where his clothes were. They were nowhere close so he stood and stumbled, heading for the bathroom connected to the bedroom. He hadn’t managed to turn his head to the tap before there was someone else there and he remembered exactly how tall this man was, six five, and when he turned to see him he was impressed at exactly how muscular he was.
There was a hand on his ass and Aiden went on his toes to allow a kiss. Vincent’s fingers ran lightly up his back and then he was spun and he placed his hands on the wall in front of him as Vincent’s cock was back inside him. His cries were amplified in the small glass shower for only a moment before Vincent covered his mouth to shush him. Aiden imagined that was the only way that would work because he hardly noticed he was damn close to screaming.
There was hot coffee and new clothes when Aiden stepped out of the shower and Vincent didn’t even bother dressing, just wrapped a towel around his waist and headed out. He looked over the clothes, a size too large and they smelled like weed and must and Aiden quickly suspected they belonged to someone. Still, he dressed and combed out his long red hair and examined himself in the mirror. Torn jeans, a black belt around his waist, a black Iron Maiden band shirt and his dark red hair just past his mid back. He rubbed blood shot eyes and leaned forward to critique his complexion. He was fortunate enough for clear skin but with red hair came pale skin, a trait he both loved and hated.
He headed through the bedroom with his mug of coffee and was greeted with the site of his favorite band in front of him lounging in front of the TV on the couch he and their bassist had sex on. Something about that seemed surreal. Maybe it was the bite marks on his shoulders or the light hickey on his neck but the group turned to look at him and then again at Vincent who was now dressed in lounge pants.
“That’s my shirt.” The vocalist announced and Aiden gave him an awkward smile. He was having a mental orgasm. He was wearing Zack's actual and very own t-shirt!
“I lost mine.” He spoke softly and he felt the pink tinge on his cheek. Really, playing groupie was not something he was experienced in.
“Lost your pants, too?” The vocalist was the smallest of their group. He had the 70’s hair band look going on when he was on stage or in a video. This morning he looked like an escaped rehab patient with smudged black eyeliner and his black hair still sleep tossed. He wore a dress, at the moment, so Aiden shrugged and sipped his coffee.
“You lose yours?”
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Words: 2082
