AN: After seeing this picture http:/25(.)media(.)tumblr(.)com/tumblr_lmhipbRJ6h1qa5w9eo1_500(.)png (obviously without the brackets in it xD) on Tumblr, I just had to write this little Monfer ficlet thingy. So, um... Hope you enjoy! :3
Agreeing to wearing the unitard was a bad fucking idea, Chris thinks.
First of all, it's prone to wedgie-ing the hell out of him as he performs, and it rides up horribly – he hardly ever makes it through a performance without showing a lot of hip.
Second of all, it's hot. And not oh-wow-that's-sexy hot, but holy-shit-trapped-in-a-furnace hot. The whole outfit is, really, but the damn unitard is so skintight and figure-hugging that there's zero room to breathe, and he just finds himself sweating to death under the stretchy black fabric.
But thirdly, and most importantly… The thing is tight. And wearing any sort of underwear underneath it just wouldn't fly. So every night, he's stuck dancing on stage in front of thousands of people wearing a too-tight unitard rubbing against his bare dick, and he has to try and hide the fact that he's turned on beyond fucking belief.
… Yeah, he thinks, as he stands backstage after Single Ladies with a rather prominent hard-on. Bad. Fucking. Idea.
He's walking offstage after the dance, face warm and rather flushed, as people run to get into their places for the next number. It's 'Friday' next, and Chris isn't on for that one, which means he gets a bit of a break – something he's always been incredibly thankful for, because if he'd had to go back on stage right after dancing Single Ladies, he wouldn't be able to. He tries to stay out of the way as people race around, not wanting to get in the way and have someone yell at him or something. So he stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the people rushing by.
Without warning, though, a pair of arms circle themselves around his waist, the large, warm heat of someone pressed up against his back suddenly appearing out of nowhere. Chris jumps slightly, not expecting it, until he looks over his shoulder and sees Cory there, grinning down at him with that silly lopsided grin that Chris loves oh-so-much.
"Hey baby!" Cory says quietly, pressing a kiss to Chris's cheek, and it's a good thing that practically all the backstage crew and staff know they're an item, because there's no way that they'd be able to pass this off as purely platonic. "God, that was amazing, Chris – I mean, you were so good, and the crowd loved it, and…"
Chris can still hear Cory rattling off his praise and adorations, but his mind has somehow failed to be able to decipher them any longer, because as Cory talks, he moves, and as he moves, Chris can feel him grinding against his ass, which he's pretty sure Cory doesn't mean to do, but he does anyways. And usually he'd be fine with that – he's an adult now, and he can control his urges fairly well when he knows he has to. But it's the fact that, due to that goddamn unitard and those dance moves and that entire performance in general, he's already turned on beyond belief and hard as hell that makes it almost unbearable, and without even meaning to he lets out a low moan, eyes fluttering shut and his body leaning back against Cory's chest.
Cory seems to notice, because he stops mid-sentence and leans down to look at Chris's face. "… You alright?" He asks quietly, and Chris slowly opens his eyes, looking back at Cory. His pupils are dilated like crazy, his mouth is parted ever so slightly, and as he turns around in Cory's arms, he's already made up his mind about what he's going to do.
His arms come to wrap around Cory's shoulders, locking his eyes with the taller male's as he takes a deep breath. He can feel Cory's hands slide from their spot on the small of his back to rest on his hips, and the unitard is still riding up on him, so that patch of perfect, pale skin is still completely on display, and Cory takes advantage of it, skimming his fingertips lightly along the surface and raising goosebumps along the way. Chris shudders ever so slightly and stands up on his tip-toes, soft pink lips ghosting against Cory's ear as he speaks.
"God, Cory – you have no idea how fucking horny I am right now…"
He feels Cory take a sharp intake of breath at his words – usually, Chris isn't so straightforward and blunt when it comes to things like this, instead preferring to go with a more hard-to-get approach to things. But he's got a hard-on in his pants that won't go away, and now is not the time to be evasive about what he wants – and it's obvious that Cory's slightly shocked. But when he pulls back to look into Chris's eyes again, there's a spark of excitement and lust in those honey-brown irises, and Chris knows it's gonna be alright. Cory's thumbs slide under the fabric of his unitard, rubbing teasing circles against his prominent hipbones, and the smirk he shoots at Chris is so undeniably sexy that Chris almost can't handle it.
"You are, are you?" He whispers back, thumbs trailing lower to hook into the waistband of Chris's way-too-fucking-tight jeans, and Chris nods quickly, twisting his fingers in the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. Cory lets out a little huff of a laugh, tugging on the waistband to pull them down Chris's hips ever so slightly, and as he does so they can hear the beginning notes of the song starting on stage, and they both know they should be getting ready for their next number, but it's not like either of them could care about that if they even tried.
Because with a quiet, erotic moan, Chris grips the front of Cory's shirt, and then they're racing into a secluded corner of the backstage area where they know they won't be seen. Cory's already trying to remove Chris's sparkly waistcoat, fingers fumbling with the single button on the article of clothing, and with a quick roll of the eyes, Chris moves Cory's hands away and undoes it himself, letting it drop to the floor with a soft flump. His hands are back on Cory, palms trailing roughly up and down his chest, and Cory's hands move to make quick work of undoing Chris's jeans, needing to get them off of him now. He manages to pop the button open, quickly unzipping the pants before tugging them down, pooling them around Chris's ankles, and Chris sighs softly at that slight release of uncomfortable pressure on his erection that the lack of pants gives him. Then, Cory's hands are back on him, gripping tightly at his hips as he practically attacks Chris's mouth with his own, and the kiss is deep and hot and so fucking dirty that Chris already feels like he's getting close.
Then, Cory pulls back and looks Chris over, eyes hungry and taking in every inch of Chris's gorgeously pale skin. He slides a finger under the fabric at the neck of Chris's unitard, tugging on it gently before quirking an eyebrow at Chris. "Hmm…" Cory hums quietly, teasingly trailing his finger down Chris's chest, moving lower and lower until his hand is almost where Chris really wants it. He whines softly as Cory finally cups him through the thin black fabric, rubbing slowly before leaning over to kiss Chris's neck.
"Fuck, Cory," Chris whines again, twisting his fingers in Cory's hair. "Oh, god, that's… hnnnnh,"
Cory smirks against Chris's pulse point at the needy sounds escaping his mouth, and he slows his hand even more, almost stilling it completely, and Chris groans frustratedly. He bucks into Cory's hand, needing some sort of friction from the taller male. "For fuck's sake, Cory," Chris breathes out impatiently, tugging on Cory's hair as he speaks. "If you don't hurry up and fucking get on with it, you're not getting any either."
That seems to snap Cory out of it, and soon he's slipping his hand under Chris's unitard much more urgently than before. He pauses, however, when he notices the lack of underwear Chris is wearing underneath it, and his eyes flutter shut as he circles his hand around the base of Chris's cock.
"Commando, eh?" He whispers as he pushes the material to the side to expose Chris's cock, nipping at his collarbone as he gives him a slow stroke. Chris keens at the long-needed sensations, head falling back against the wall behind him, and he nods quickly, gasping quietly before replying.
"Have to. Do you honestly think I could pull off a pair of boxers under this thing?" Chris says breathily, thrusting up gently into Cory's hand. Cory laughs quietly, and shrugs.
"Mmmm. Makes sense," He whispers, still sucking and nibbling gently at the column of Chris's neck as he strokes faster. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, though…"
"Better not," Chris replies, his breathing growing faster along with Cory's hand. "I should… I should just go commando all the time, if this is the reaction I'm gonna get…"
Cory laughs, the sound rumbling against Chris's neck, and he presses closer to the smaller boy, free hand reaching up to thread through Chris's hair as he strokes faster, strokes harder, ripping tiny little moans and hitches of breath from Chris's throat. He knows he's not gonna last long – he's been far too turned on for too long, and he knows he's moments away from practically exploding. So, it's with only a few more quick, perfect strokes from Cory that he finally comes, crying out much louder than he really should have from the sheer relief of finally achieving release. His back arches, and as he comes down from the orgasm, he can feel his fingernails digging roughly into Cory's shoulders, gripping him and keeping him as close as possible. His chest heaves as he attempts to calm his breathing, finally opening his eyes to look up at Cory.
"… Fuck." He breathes out, grinning completely contentedly at Cory, tugging the taller male down by the front of his shirt for a kiss, slow and languid and amazing. Cory reciprocates, cupping Chris's cheek with the hand that isn't coated in his come, but before Cory knows it, Chris is quickly tucking himself back into his unitard and sliding down his body kneeling at his feet, face level with the front of Cory's pants. Chris reaches out with sure hands, quickly undoing his belt with the buttons and zipper following suit rather quickly, and he's got his hand buried in Cory's boxers before long. It takes Cory by surprise, and he stifles a rather loud moan at the feel of Chris's soft hands touching him there, so sensually and intimately that it's actually a lot to handle all at once. And then Chris is gently pulling his cock out of the opening at the front of his boxers, smiling up at Cory with a teasing glint in his eyes, and he leans forward, lips brushing the head of his cock. He kisses the slit, precome beading on his lower lip, and moves to kiss up and down the shaft with thorough motions. His hand grips the base, stroking slowly as he takes the head into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks ever so slightly as he does so.
Cory threads his fingers into Chris's hair without thinking about it, tugging gently on the chestnut brown strands as Chris practically deepthroats him – and for a second, Cory thinks that he shouldn't be doing that because he has to sing in a few minutes and that's not good for his throat, but he's in the middle of getting a blowjob and he's not going to say anything that might cause it to stop – and he thrusts shallowly into Chris's mouth, and he feels Chris moan, the vibrations surging through his dick. And if what they were doing hadn't already occurred to the two of them before then, it definitely does now, with Chris giving Cory one of the best blowjobs in the history of blowjobs and the beginning notes of Safety Dance surrounding them. Because they're fooling around backstage in a stadium full of thousands of screaming, adoring fans, and neither of them can deny the fact that it's one of the hugest turn-ons ever.
Cory doesn't end up lasting much longer than Chris does, hips juddering and body shaking as his orgasm takes over when Chris does something absolutely amazing with his tongue, and he knows he should have warned Chris so he didn't have to swallow right before going on stage to perform, but the smaller male does so almost gratefully, and he has to admit that it's pretty fucking hot. He feels limp, boneless, and he clumsily pulls Chris up by his shoulders, connecting their lips in a sloppy, post-coitally-messy kiss, and he can taste himself on Chris's lips as his tongue probes the younger male's mouth.
"Cory," Chris pulls back slightly, a painfully sober tone to his voice as he speaks. "Ohhhh, fuck, Cory, we have to get ready like, right now or…"
And Chris has Cory's pants zipped up and back to normal in seconds, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before dragging Cory off towards the main part of the backstage area, racing to quickly put his next costume on before he has to be onstage. He gets a few knowing glances from the costume department people – and fuck, if he got anything on the unitard, he'd have a hell of a time explaining that one to them – but no one comments, simply letting him get dressed in peace before rushing off to stand beside Cory, grinning slightly nervously at him.
"… It doesn't look too obvious, does it?" He asks, raising an eyebrow as they wait for Safety Dance to finally finish. Cory takes in the ruffled state of Chris's hair, the blown pupils and the flushed cheeks, and it's pretty obvious to anyone with eyes what they'd just been doing.
"Nah, not obvious at all," Cory says, threading his fingers between Chris's as he leans over to give him a kiss. What Chris doesn't know won't hurt him, and if he thinks he looks like he just got it on backstage, he knows he'll be self-conscious about it the entire time, so instead, he tells a little white lie. It's in his best interest, anyways.
Chris pulls back, grinning sheepishly at Cory and brushing his thumb against the back of Cory's hand as he thinks. "So…" He starts. "What do you say to us maybe making this… you know, a regular thing?" He smirks playfully at Cory, chewing on his bottom lip as he waits for Cory to mull it over. It takes him about five seconds to make his decision, before he's nodding his approval.
"I'm pretty sure we could make it happen." He replies, a smirk of his own on his face, and Chris laughs lightly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to Cory's cheek.
"Suddenly, it seems like I've got a whole lot more to look forward to now…" He whispers, but before Cory can reply, they're ushered onstage for the next performance.
Later that night, in their hotel room, Cory's practically abducted Chris's iPad and is keeping it hostage to check his Twitter, claiming that "it's far easier to read them on this thing, compared to my phone, you know." Chris had finally relented, with an air of faux annoyance at the taller male, and as Cory flicks through the messages he'd received that night, he curls up beside him, legs stretching across Cory's lap as he practically sits in it.
"Just tell me when you're done, okay?" He mumbles sleepily, yawning before closing his eyes and resting his head against Cory's shoulder, obviously tired, and Cory knows he won't be up too much longer with Chris needing to sleep so badly, but there's just one last thing he's gotta check.
He taps the address bar, typing in a quick URL while trying not to move too much and nudge Chris, and soon the site's loaded. One of the first things he sees when he logs in to Tumblr is exactly what he's looking for – a picture of Chris during Somebody to Love, hair wild and face flushed – and he's gotta admit, the picture is one of the sexiest things he's ever seen, really. But what he's really looking for isn't the picture itself, so he flicks lower down, looking at the comments underneath it.
"OH. NICE SEX HAIR YOU'VE GOT GOING ON THERE, MR. COLFER."
"JFC CHRIS. HOW ARE YOU REAL?"
"… Well then. BB be getting some, obviously. Just look at him."
He smirks, amused by the fans' reactions to the picture, and just how accurate they really are. He knows he'll never show this to Chris, simply because he knows that he doesn't really like reading things about himself online, good or bad, and he doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. That doesn't prevent him from hitting the reblog button himself, though, typing a quick message before posting it and chuckling quietly to himself at his trolling.
"hnnng. dat ass. whoever gets to tap that is one lucky guy. ;)"
He knows it's probably dangerous to post stuff like this online, especially being in the situation he's in – he knows how perceptive the Gleeks can be, and they're far too smart for their own good, so there's a good chance that they could figure out who's really running his blog – but honestly, he thinks, why not have a little fun while you can? It's too fun to post his little comments for him to quit, and besides, once he and Chris can finally go public with their relationship, it won't matter anymore – and at least it'll be entertaining when the fans finally find out who'd been running his blog the entire time.
He flicks through his dash a few more times, seeing a few other pictures and reblogging them with his own cheeky little comments, but soon, he can feel Chris shifting against his side, eyes opening and arm tightening around his waist as he wakes up.
"Mmmm… Whatchya doin', Cory?" He murmurs quietly, sleepy smile gracing his features, and Cory feels his heart flutter at the knowledge that that gorgeous smile is meant solely for him. He puts Chris's iPad down on the cushion beside him, leaning down to kiss his forehead before moving his hands to stroke up and down Chris's back.
"Nothing, really. I'm done now, though, so… Come on." He says, smiling softly into Chris's hair as he gathers him up in his arms and carries him off to their bedroom. Chris is far too tired and relaxed to protest in any way, so he just wraps his arms tighter around Cory's neck, burying his face into his neck as they curl up together under the sheets. Chris is out like a light almost instantly, breathing evening out into the calming pattern of sleep, and Cory smiles at his peaceful face, bringing a hand up to gently trace along the curve of his cheek, the bridge of his nose, along his soft pink lips. His thoughts return to backstage earlier that day, to the quiet, breathy moans escaping his boyfriend's mouth, low and hot and completely erotic, and it's really hard for him to believe that that's the same boy who's currently curled up against his chest sleeping so soundly, because there's such a vast difference between the two that it just doesn't seem like it should be true. But he knows it is, and he smiles, because he's so fucking in love with this perfect, amazing boy, in love with every aspect of him, whether he's being fucked up against a wall or he's curled up with him and snoring softly in his sleep. He loves every little bit of Chris, and he leans over to give him a quick peck before wrapping his arms around his waist and closing his own eyes, drifting off as well.
And if that's how the two of them spend the remainder of the tour – messing around backstage after Chris's Single Ladies performance, and falling asleep together in the comforting quiet of their hotel room – well… Neither of them complain about it in the least.