Prisoner of Society (christ sol)
-= DISCLAIMER =-
this story in no way implies the sexuality of scott owen of the Living End. song excerpts remain copyright TLE and EMI.
this is SLASH fiction. in other words, it's about a couple of punks engaging in crimes against nature. don't like it - buggar off.
-=-
Sweat dripped off my forehead and into the Mackie in front of me as I stood behind Foldback, just left of the massive stage dominated by the Living End. I knuckled anothererrant bead of sweat from the corner of my eye as I watched the band. They had presence. The mosh pit was wild, the crowd was screaming. Chris glanced back at me during a solo and mouth "Foldback" so I brought his levels up slowly, waiting for his nod.
In case you havent worked it out, I'm Jase, the foldback engineer for Modular Records. I've been touring with The Living End on their Prisoner of Society national tour, and I couldn't have asked for a better job. I love these guys, they're like my brothers. The guy on my mind at this very moment is Scott Owen. Tall, built, talented, fun-loving, he's everything a dude like me could wish for. A little bit reserved though.
The crowd hoot as Scott jumps up onto his double bass and rides it like a wild animal, and I can't help but laugh. The speakers pound endlessly as the concert draws to a close. I tweak the EQ and give the thumbs-up to front-of-house and the faders come down, Chris, Scott and Trav pounding off stage left like over-excited puppies. Another night, another show. I grin and follow them into the darkness towards the Green Room.
"Levels OK tonight?" I pass the longneck back to Trav. The lights are dim in the green room, the air-con blowing semi-cool air around. Even so, I pull off my shirt and dump it at my feet. When you eat, sleep and breathe music, you know that it takes more than little bit of skin to bother guys like this."
"Yeh, you did orrite. Coulda used more lower end." "Tell the bastards in management to give me a new EQ and you got it buddy." Scott chuckles. The fight between me and the executives for better equipment has stopped just shy of becoming a holy war.
A knock at the door startles me and Chris calls for the uninvited guest to come in. It's Nikita from Production. "You just can't keep your clothes on your can ya Jase?" "F'koff darlin'. 'Sup?" "Road crews done. We're outta here. Got any beer left?" I smile and pass Nikki the last longneck. When you spend months at a time with the same faces, you become kinda like family. "My beer is yer beer. We ready dudes?" Nods and grunts in the affirmative. "Scott, ride up with me tonight. I could use the company."
Scott cocks his head and smiles at me strangely. "Sure, man."
He's quieter than usual on the road to Adelaide. "Whats the matter Scott - cat got yer tongue?"
He squirms under my playful stare. He's so cute when he does that. Running a hand through his spiked hair, he looks back at the road ahead.
"Just tired." "Scott, you're a worse liar than me. What the fuck's going on dude?" His face changes in the dim light as he stares ahead. The air seems to change in the cabin as we turn off Highway 37 and onto Sturt Highway.
"Got a call from Jenna after the concert tonight. She said she couldnt handle the distance anymore. She left me, Jase. Just left me like that."
His hands curled into fists on his lap. I reached over and patted his leg gently.
"Always happens when you least expect it, buddy. Still sucks tho." "You're lucky mate. Your girl's on the road with you."
I smiled a little. Nikita and I had been an item for a while, but we realised it was going to affect our work and we decided to stay friends till after the tour. Then who knows... but Nik was the last thing on my mind now. I wanted to pull the truck over and cradle Scott in my arms. Dude looked crushed. He really cared for her.
We arrived at the motel in silence. Scott chose to sleep in the same room as me without reason or explanation. While Trav looked confused, Chris just shrugged and grabbed his pillow, threatening death if breakfast wasn't on time in the morning. Too tired to joke around, I hoisted my lead-like arms out of my jacket and opened the door to room 13A.
One bed. A double bed, but one bed nonetheless. Scott looked from the bed, to me, to the bed again.
"They screwed up, I guess. Changed yer mind?"
Scott looked at the bed for a very long time, then seemed to collapse under his own weight. Bouncing slightly, he turned onto his back and smiled wearily at me.
"Can't be fucked. Tired. D'ya mind?" "nah. Just no funny business, one hardon and i'll prolly die from exhaustion."
Scott snorted and kicked his boots and jeans off. I shucked off my clothes down to my boxers and slid under the cool sheets, reaching for the lamp. Click. In the darkness I went to roll over, forgetting for a second there was a partially naked bassist on my bed. My hand grabbed, then froze.
"That yer hand Scott?"
Silence. I drew my hand back a bit, and brushed a largeish pair of nuts.
"Oh shit - sorry dude."
This dude packed some serious dick. And he was rock hard.
"Was wondering when you'd do that."
And with that, Scott rolled over and drew me deep into his arms. In the moonlight shining through the dirty window, his weary eyes sparkled as I inhaled the scent of his sweaty skin. I reach forward and nuzzled into his smooth chest, his powerful arms wrapped around me. I felt his hardness press into my belly.
We slept.
beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBeepBEEPBEEPBEEP---
I grabbed my nokia phone and threw it against the closet. the beeping stopped. Turning back to Scott, I simultaneously realised three things; He was still asleep, his legs were intertwined with mine, and his dick was still as hard as it was last night. I spent a few long moments admiring his face in the greyish dawn light. His angular jaw, defined neck and shoulders, even the little patches of light brown stubble on his chin. I reached forward, letting my fingers trace his jawline. One deep, brown eye gently opened and he smile lazily, brushing my fingers away.
"Sleepy." "Don't care. Wakey wakey time, Scott." "Make me."
I smiled at this half-hearted challenge, and reached for the hard bulge threatening to burst out of his briefs. Instead of the intended effect of him jumping a mile, he rolled onto his back, thumb hooking the elastic and yanking them down.
"Fine, blow me. I still aint getting up."
An open invitation from Scott Owen, to suck this dribbling, uncut tool. Within a split second I was at his crotch, running a parched tongue over the engorged shaft, tracing the faint pink line up and down Scott's cock. He moaned and spread his legs, thrusting his hips slightly. I reached down and snagged one of his balls into my mouth, sucking at it greedily, tasting his sweat and musk, the slight odour of his ass daring and inviting me. I licked back up to the head and took it gingerly into my mouth, running a tongue under his foreskin. He gasped gently and muscular arms came from nowhere, stroking my neck and shoulders as I went down on the object or my desires.
"Fuck...jase...fuck yeh .... wanted this.....so long..... suck me man.... oh fuck yes..."
I ran my hands up his abs and chest rubbing his warm body. He took one of my hands and pressed it to his lips, sucking on my fingers as I did my best to swallow as much of his shaft as I could. He was now bucking his hips rapidly, fucking my face in small circular thrusts as I climbed up onto my knees, running my calloused hands over his smooth skin.
I glanced up and into his eyes, watching me fiercely. It was then that I knew what i wanted to do. I pulled off him and climbed up to straddle him.
"Jase, man, you don't have to do that if you don't want..."
I grinned and leaned over his considerable chest, kissing him full on the lips. He whimpered and licked at my lips and teeth, frenching me for all he was worth. I lowered myself down on his wet cock, and felt a dry, burning itch as it slid gradally into my dry hole. Sinking it home, I sat up and flexed my upper body, never taking my eyes off Scott. He began to fuck me in slow, deep thrusts, reaching up for my hands.
"Harder." I manage to croak, his thickness taking me by suprise.
I drop down his chest and roll him over, my legs wrapping around his thighs as he drives hard and fast into me.
"jase, I can't.."
His sentence is cut off by a loud, dry groan as I feel his cock pump wave after wave of come into me. His legs and abs seize up as his eyes glaze over, and I pant, reaching for my cock and jerking it furiously. Seconds later, I explode in my own amazing orgasm, drenching his belly in my seed. We gasp and pant and chuckle together, then fall oddly silent. He wraps me up in my arms again and I rest my head on his shoulder.
The last night, the last concert. I'm all choked up, full of pride, hapiness, but a queer, sad empitness that the tour's gonna be over after just one more song. I look up from my mixing desk at the polished boards of the Adelaide Cultural Centre. They're playing one of my old favourites.
"So here I come to save the day, The future's here and the past is yesterday, They say it's the only way, (they say), they only want it when it's there.."
It's not sweat I'm knuckling from my eyes anymore, it's tears...
"We're not going on a holiday, we do a lot of work and we dont get paid... stand up don't walk away, take your pride and swallow...."
I look hopelessly at Scott, he looks back at me, hands thumping over the fretboard. He smiles back at me, a little smile, a secret code uttered between conspirators, and I grin back...
The last six notes of Save The Day... the crowd screaming... Chris pants into the mike.. "THANKYOU ADELAIDE! WE FUCKING LOVE YOU!"
Scott is last off the stage. Just out of the crowd's sight, he put his hands on my shoulders and leans down to kiss me. I taste the sweat on his lips and melt in his arms. He releases me from the kiss as the band leaps back on stage for an encore.
"Tonight, jase. Tonight."
-=-
Need I continue? Let me know.
And everyone go out and buy a copy of The Living End (self-titled.) Also, at the time of writing, the Pictures in the Mirror single has been released, go out and buy it! now! ;-)
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