They could never let anyone else see them like this. Being curious or even gay wasn't what they were worried people would think, they were worried people-even their own bandmates- might be disgusted with how desperate and lewd they acted when together like this. Biting teeth, saliva dripping down chapped bruised lips, hands groping like the body under them would disappear at any moment. That was only the half of it. If one were to see the two musicians together they would see hips rubbing rhythmically against one another, bulges straining against too tight jeans, one free hand reaching down to finger a tight wet entrance, and, if one listened closely, one would hear dirty, downright depraved things coming from both partners.

So here they were, hiding in a moldy, smelly janitors' closet in some shitty bar somewhere south of the Mason-Dixon in some bum-fuck nowhere venue avoiding their bandmates and swapping bodily fluids in secret.

"Mmmm-fuck! It's so god damn hot in here!" Tony threw his sweaty hat off in a rage.

"Shuuuussh! If 'dey hear us we're fucked! Jest' deal wit' it." Pickles went on his tip toes to swipe his hot tongue against his bassist's ear lobe.

Tony groaned and shoved his tongue back into Pickles' soft whiskey-coated mouth. He was sick of this. Sick of hiding the fact that he and his lead occasionally fucked (okay occasionally is an understatement) sick of hiding in closets (god damnit no pun intended!) or behind bars or in alleys just to get just a little bit of release. They hadn't been able to properly fuck in months, touring had made it almost impossible to steal away any private time. Sure, Tony had had his few ladies along the way, he assumed Pickles indulged as well, his lead had always been the affectionate type.

"Com' on Tones', don't spoil it." Pickles thrust his hips against his, eliciting sharp intakes of breath,

"Yeah…yeah…" Tony shoved his hands down the front of Pickles' tight pleather pants, struggling with the zipper. Why does he have to wear these fucking pants? So hard to take off…

Tony couldn't blame Pickles for it though, the red-head looked good enough to eat on stage in these pants. Actually, they were his favorite, but they became his enemy after the show.

"Hold on…lemme' jest'…" Pickles attempted to squirm out of his troublesome pants, Tony pulling them down forcefully. Pickles strained to get them past his thighs, Tony was getting more and more frustrated and hot.

"Jesus tap dancing Christ! Come here!" Tony lifted Pickles awkwardly and leaned him against the wall so the smaller man was straddling his hips while he yanked the meddlesome pants off roughly, finally freeing Pickles of them.

"Heh…that's better." Pickles laughed, now Tony had him flush against him, thank god Pickles hadn't worn any underwear.

With learned warm fingers Pickles' unbuckled Tony's belt and slid his jeans down, with a wink Pickles knelt down and traced his finger up his length, squeezing the head of the bassists' cock. Pickles' liked being in control, he figured if he was going to suck cock he was at least going to be in charge.

Tony grunted as Pickles dragged his tongue up and down his cock, not once wrapping his lips around him. Fuckin' tease, not today. The bassist grabbed the back of his lead's head his hands sticky with hair product and forced his face into his groin. Pickles fought back at first but after a few violent tugs of his red tresses he gave in and opened his mouth.

"Yeah…suck that cock rock n' roll princess." Tony laughed at Pickles struggling not to gag, small choked noises slipped out but Tony didn't care, besides, seeing that smug face turn red and those green eyes blinking back tears was like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

His cock rammed into the back of Pickles' throat as Tony face fucked him into oblivion. It took all the self-control he had to pull that red head back off his cock in order to keep from blowing his load early.

"Tony-fuck!" Pickles coughed, wiping at the tears in his eyes, smudging his gaudy make up. He liked rough but he had lost the control he so relished. That made him mad. And to top it off, his boner had almost completely disappeared. Pickles angrily stood up, thinking about grabbing his clothes and ditching.

"What? Not what you wanted, hon?" Tony purred, ignoring Pickles' angry countenance and pulling him into a tight embrace, his hard wet member sliding against Pickles' stomach.

Pickles allowed the contact, at the end of the day, he really liked being held.

"Naw…I don't like it when ya' call me princess…" Pickles mumbled, letting Tony grope and rub his bare ass.

"But you are one." Tony pulled back Pickles' head and laid a demanding kiss on his mouth, sucking on the red head's bottom lip. Pickles felt himself stiffen again, thankfully. The kiss heated up his desire. He pawed at Tony's bare chest, practically begging to be touched more like this. This was nice, this was what Pickles liked, being held and kissed. Like he was worth pleasing.

The sweetness went as fast as it came and Tony broke the kiss to look directly into Pickles' eyes, his hands had moved to grasp Pickles' wrists. Pickles stared back, unsure of how to take the intense gaze.

"'Ya alright, Tones?" Pickles ventured after a few painful seconds of silence. Tony only grunted and flipped the smaller man over so his front was pinned against the dirty moldy wall, his wrists held behind his back.

"I will be."

Tony plunged his hard member deep into Pickles, rocking for a moment against pale freckled cheeks before thrusting deeply. Pickles whole body stiffened and he couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp, he was in no way ready for this.

For a moment Tony felt guilt, it wasn't Pickles fault that it was hot and they had nowhere else to go to do this, but he couldn't help but blame him. Tony blamed him for wearing the pants he liked, he blamed him for all the sideways smirks he gave and all the outwardly accidental flips of red hair in his face that he knew was on purpose. Pickles could be an outright tease. He made him do this to him.

"Be quiet. We don't have much time before one of them comes lookin'." Tony whispered hoarsely in Pickles ear, feeling shivers rack the red-heads body made him want to fuck him harder. His lead was a little too vocal though and needed to be gagged in order to be kept quiet. Tony clasped his hand against Pickles' mouth with one finger rammed inside his silken cavern, his finger sliding up and down a hot slick tongue.

He loved hearing the muffled cries from his lead, it was divine.

Soon those pained groans evolved into full blown cries. Tony dug his nails deep into Pickles' soft hips purposefully leaving marks, he bent down to lay rough bites along Pickles neck sucking roughly.

"You slutty bastard, you think that if I see you making eyes at me on stage that everyone else can to? You know how fucking dangerous that is?" He delivered a rough thrust deep into the whimpering man beneath him, not a care in the world if he was hurting him.

"Hmmmfpph!" Pickles struggled against the larger man on top of him, wanting to squirm his way out of this painful situation.

"Shut up." Tony only tightened his grip and smacked his open hand against his leads soft ass.

Pickles eyeliner bled down his cheeks mixed with hot tears. Tony loved seeing him cry, some people just look beautiful when they cry; and Pickles looked drop dead gorgeous. His red hair askew and stuck to his forehead, bright eyes dilated and full to the brim with tears. Pity Tony had to cover his mouth, he usually loved hearing his lead cry out in pain or pleasure. Nothing could be done for it though. The outside people beyond this closet were probably starting to wonder where the two had gone, he didn't need Pickles' dirty little mouth giving them away.

Tony picked up his pace, slamming Pickles face into the thin wall behind him. He could feel Pickles tightening under him, either out of pain or pleasure, Tony didn't particularly care. Pickles knew he was playing with fire when he started teasing Tony on the bus this morning, stupid kid should know better.

Stupid bastard knew he left the bathroom door unlocked, he knew Tony would be the first to hit the pisser in the morning, he knew Tony would punish him later.

Pickles' hand wrapped around his leaking cock, leaning against the toilet facing the wide open door with Tony staring in the entrance. Pickles' face devoid of make-up, hair clean for once and acting as some fiery red halo, like some angel out of hell. His lead's teeth worrying his chapped lips, moaning ever so softly. Then that fucking smirk when he saw the look of surprise and need etched across Tony's face.

"Like what ya' see, chief?"

What a slut.

"Fuckin' take it." Tony's hand fell away from Pickles' mouth to grip the smaller man's hips tightly, ramming himself violently into the shuddering figure beneath him. It was no longer Pickles, it was just another slut Tony was balls deep in. Still, seeing those ruby red lips sent him over the edge and he emptied himself inside of his lead, spurting hot liquid into every nook and cranny of his ass.

Tony quickly dropped Pickles against the wall, ignoring the smaller man's shaky legs and half-mast cock. He busied himself with pulling his pants back up and finding his hat, not looking twice at the messy sweaty mass that used to be Pickles the God of Sex and Drugs, Pickles the Guy Men Went Gay For, Pickles the Epitome of Glam Rock. Now he was just a whore. It simplified things for the bassist.

"You should get cleaned up." He tossed the suggestion over his shoulder as he went to open the closet door. He felt a hand tug on his shirt. He spun around and saw Pickles; downcast eyes trying to hide his tears and shame.

"Ya' can't jest leave me here." Pickles croaked, shaky hands groping for his pants in the dark. Tony stared for a moment, seeing Pickles' vulnerable was rare, a small pang of guilt echoed somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind. For a moment Tony saw a flash of Pickles just two years earlier, hungry and young, ratty in his patchy fake leather jacket and scuffed tennis shoes, the look of pure admiration when Tony had played a few demos for him.

He looked around for Pickles' pants, then helped the sore youth into them, guiding thin freckled legs through small tight pant legs, lifting the red head up with zero effort as he shimmied his way into them, still refusing eye contact. Another pang of guilt.

"Pickles…" Tony began, suddenly terrified that his lead would never look at him again. Pickles only tried wiping his messy make up off his tear burned cheeks, trying to push past Tony toward the door.

Tony effortlessly blocked him from leaving, reaching out his hands to hold his shivering pale arms.

"Pickles, don't."

"'Whaddaya' mean 'don't'?! Don't what?" Pickles snapped, fresh tears falling.

"Don't be mad. You know you deserved it." Tony held him tightly by the arms, but keeping him at a distance.

"Deserved it?" Pickles struggled to get out of the larger man's grip, it was futile though, Tony had a good five inches on him and an extra 60 pounds of muscle mass.

"You can't fuckin' tease me-"

"You're pissed about this morning? I wasn't tryna' tease you, asshole, it's called feckin' foreplay!" Pickles couldn't stop the tears now flying freely from his face as he struggled to get out of Tony's grip.

Tony stared confused at him, maybe the kid really didn't know what he was doing. Tony kept forgetting he was only eighteen, barely at that.His grip slackened, allowing Pickles to free his arms only for him to ball his fists and beat weakly against the larger man's chest.

"Feckin' asshole! Ya' can't treat me like some feckin' groupie slut!" Pickles hiccupped, trying to push Tony away. The bassist stood his ground, still feeling bewildered.

"No, listen, maybe I was a little rough-"

"A lill'?"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry, I thought it was what you wanted."

"What I wanted. What I wanted 'Tones was a little respect! You think you can just 'feck me raw and then we leave 'dis closet, and 'den what?" Pickles voice broke, his shaking continued with a renewed force. Tony had never seen him like this, it was like the smaller man was going into some kind of shock.

"Pickles…"

"No. 'Den what, 'Tones? We act feckin' normal and pretend?" Pickles eyes finally met his and it was then that Tony noticed the red rims around his eyes, pupils huge. Pickles was strung out on some rough smack.

"You're just high, Pickles, calm down." Tony sighed, wondering where and when Pickles had had the time for that-was it before or after the show? During? Who was he doing it with?

"Who?" Tony's eyes turned into suspicious slits.

"Whaddaya mean who? I don't need you to get high. Or for a lay neither! Some doods know how to treat a feckin' star!" Pickles spat.

Tony lost his cool, he didn't want to imagine Pickles fucking some other guy. Was he really fucking another dude? Unacceptable. Without a moments' hesitation Tony struck Pickles clean across the face with the back of his hand, his smooth white cheek erupted in an angry red mark, his red lower lip split open and gushed blood down his chin.

Tony was even surprised. The look of pure revulsion on Pickles face was something terrifying, Tony instantly regretted his decision.

Without warning Pickles sent a hard boney knee right into the bassist's groin, shoving him down against the closet door. Then, without skipping a beat, shoved the door open and crawled over top the stunned groaning man underfoot.

Tony caught a glimpse of Pickles running out of the venue into the hot August night before he passed out from the pain in his groin.