Thom/Beck - Part 2

Thom liked saying that when he was growing up, he'd been proper. They'd all been proper students, at a proper boys' school, and the whole band thing wasn't so draining. He and Coz went on to finish uni after that, they'd got their degrees before they'd thought to make the band into something serious. So it was cool to experiment at uni, when you grew up relatively secure and trying stuff out made you adventurous.

It had a lot to do with personality, too, though; feeling he was experimenting because there was nothing wrong with it felt to Thom like he was making a statement on national television, in front of the national public, and that was very empowering. He made out with dudes because, in his mind, he was sticking it to the man.

Also, it was just sort of hot.

There was a time Rachel had bet him he wouldn't go all the way with another bloke, but Thom had wanted to try it even if not for the bet. He'd got with Jonny so many times since then, and sometimes Coz, too, he'd not exactly saved himself for Beck this time around.

But stood face to face with him now in the dark, he thought he remembered. Beck had almost been cutely offended, inwardly sulking that Thom had forgot. There was a time after last year when Beck, overwhelmed and a little traumatized by what had transpired, spent a great deal of time thinking it over. Going from repulsed to fixated to eager to do it again, and after that he'd got to experimenting, too. It occurred to him that perhaps at the time Thom had merely been eager to see what getting with another bloke was like, and that he'd moved on once he'd found out. After that, Radiohead had put out a really sweet record, then they were sold out when they got to LA.

Then, one day Thom showed up at Beck's door completely without prior notice, and he told Beck, good show. 

Maybe Beck had been cutely offended, and that was why he'd got so rough. Maybe it pissed him off that Thom had said, Good thing you remember, I’d forgot entirely. He pushed Thom to his knees with one hand on his shoulder, because this wasn't fair after Thom had struck him last time as such a sensitive guy. Thom stumbled a little, but went along with that, too, he murmured, "Oi, easy," and gazed up at Beck in the dark. Still smiling like sunshine, not having meant offense by the fact that he just simply forgot. 

"Undress me," Beck said, his hand trailed on the side of Thom's face, to his ear, his hair spiky soft past the auricle; Thom smiled with compliance, he somehow looked both devilish and kind. His fingers went for Beck's belt without further instruction, then the fucker actually winked, Beck wondered if he wasn't even the slightest bit upset. He grinned at Beck all throughout, digits clever at his belt, at the fly beneath, he brushed the back of his hand on the fabric of his shorts even before taking off his trousers.

Beck swallowed, fighting back whatever emotion had threatened forth inside, his thumb was too affectionate on Thom's ear.

"Damn it," he mouthed dryly, "Why do you look so innocent."

"Doing this?" Thom asked, still meeting Beck's gaze. He had both hands on Beck's hips as he leaned inward, then slowly ran his tongue on him from outside the cloth.



Beck's hand went tight in his hair. "I thought I told you to undress me."

Some seconds passed in silence; Thom met his gaze without a word, like he wasn't exactly cool with being spoken to this way. It was all right when he and Coz were slinging insults at each other, but this was somehow charged.

"Yeah, all right," he finally said, expression unreadable as his hands went for the fabric, he pulled down and got Beck's trousers clumsily past his thighs and his legs– and they were two little kids again, with Beck getting his jeans stuck at his feet, having to kick them off after. When Thom gazed back up, though, the half-smile he'd worked up had vanished; Beck had looked unintentionally nice. "Are you really gonna fuck me," Thom asked, hands at the elastic of Beck's shorts, he'd only pulled them down enough that he could get the tip of his member in his mouth.

Beck was well enough endowed he got his own abdomen slick with the tip of his cock, just up to the umbilicus. “You’re wet,” Thom said, slowly lapping at the head, and Beck muttered, “Shut up.” He observed fixated, tilting Thom’s chin toward him, watching the fluid break from his tongue as he tugged at his mouth.

“Good?” he asked, and now Thom flushed. It was good, actually. He didn’t respond, quietly licking his lips as he pulled the elastic, sliding Beck’s boxers down along his legs, almost too gentle. He looked nice naked.

He was marked at the abdomen, it was clear now.

“Your girlfriend?” Thom asked, pointing at the bruise just at the right costal margin, and Beck would have told him to mind his own business, or that he was asking too much and not doing enough; but he felt he’d been taken down a notch, like he’d been caught red-handed.

He remained quiet, slowly shaking his head, then grinned shyly. “Thurston Moore,” he said, voice very soft.

Thom tilted his head in surprise, but he’d not got a word out before Beck pointed to another bruise further down. “And that’s— my brother—”

Thom said nothing. They regarded each other, eyes by then accustomed to the dark, Beck still hard in Thom’s hand.

Thom slowly turned his gaze back to Beck’s abdomen, one hand running softly along the flat surface, down to the iliac crest at his right hip.

“And this one’s me,” he said, slowly leaning in. He had just a bit of stubble and it scraped along Beck’s skin, he got him just at the inguinal area, “and this one’s me, too—”

If it didn’t feel so good, Beck would’ve asked him to stop. He merely watched, though, one hand running through Thom’s hair, he frowned when Thom asked, “You got one from every act in this show?”

That’s what Channing was wondering, too.

“Just get on with what you were doing,” Beck deadpanned, he got most of his fingers on Thom’s lower lip and tugged it down, other hand on his member.

It wasn’t like that. This was why you didn’t tell people things.

Thom wondered if he was jealous, too; he let Beck part his lips and took in the head of his member, it felt wet and warm on his tongue.

It wasn’t Thom’s fault, though, that Beck was marked all over; it wasn’t really something people were meant to see.

“Yeah, all right,” Thom said, “I’ll get on with it.”

The member slid clear out his mouth, expectant and wet, Thom got one hand on Beck’s flank and pushed him against the couch, abdomen facing the backrest.

“Fuck, man, what the hell?” Beck whispered loudly, immediately turning around, but Thom fought to keep him turned that way.  Beck said, “I’m doing it to you this time, remember?”

“Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because,” Thom said, he got both hands on Beck’s behind and pressed him forth until he was up against the backrest cushions. “You’re not being very nice to me.”

Beck huffed with sarcasm, “Oh, are you kidding me, now I have to be nice in order to get with you?”

“You have to be nice to be on top.”

“Hey…! Stop, what are you—”

Thom got his hands on Beck’s inner thighs from behind, he gently tugged them apart, one hand going round to his front. His hair brushed soft on Beck’s skin as he proceeded between his thighs, getting just the tip of his tongue on his balls, trying for them with his lips.

“Damn it, you dick,” Beck muttered, “that’s not what I asked you to do—”

He brought his own hand round his front to try stroking himself but he was pressed too tight against the back of the couch, he’d probably got it wet—

But fuck all if Thom wasn’t also good at that. Thom’s hand was firm on Beck’s member from the front, useless because of how tight to the upholstery it was, he thought his circulation would stop;

“What did you ask me to do?” Thom said, voice humid and muffled, he was sucking at him profanely loud, the fucker.

“No way, dude,” Beck muttered, “I’m not doing that. I’m not gonna like…beg…or whatever…”

But he was fucking Thom’s hand without meaning to all the while. “How the hell can you even breathe like that?”

“Like this, with my head between your thighs?”

“Would you keep it down...!”

“Come off it, mate, they must’ve heard us by now.”

“Dude, screw you…”

Worst part was, the most annoying bit was that Thom had to stop what he was doing in order to speak.

“I don’t— I don’t have to take this from you—”

Thom laughed in response, Beck almost cursed him out when he let go of his balls and proceeded without preamble to tongue his perineum, then his entrance.

“Oh— oh my god, just—okay, that’s it—” Beck let go with much more reluctance than he’d intended, he messily got Thom partway against the couch cushions, face down, and seized him by the shoulders. He was wrestling to get him pinned without much success. How is it he’s got the upper hand, he wondered, I do push-ups…

He remained straddled on the small of Thom’s back, dressed in nothing but his socks, holding him down to the best of his ability; they both were breathing hard. There, out the window, lamplights washed over the trailers, Beck’s gaze followed the vertical plastic of blinds, then the outline of the lamp by the window—

Then he stilled.

He scoffed with utter disgust and slowly shook his head. “Chan, fucking stop staring and go get me lotion.”

(On to chapter 15)