Whimpering quietly, the blonde chewed anxiously at his lower lip, relishing the taste of their mingled lipstick. "Dam- dammit," he growled, moving himself in such a way that he not only pushed himself down on the other's eagerly gyrating lap, but also pushed his crotch into Manson's skilled fingers, which, much to John's surprise, were trembling ever so slightly.
"Nervous?" he inquired of his band-mate, begrudgingly pushing away the singer's hand so he could unzip and unbutton his trousers, which had recently begun to take a turn for uncomfortably tight – especially over his more sensitive regions.
"Mn, more excited," responded the singer in a husky tone, which dripped with lust, yanking the material as far as he could down the other's legs, "than anything else.~"
Careful not to knee his partner in the face and ruin the mood they'd created, the guitarist stood, wiggling his hips in an undeniably adorable manner to rid himself of the clingy garment. As soon as he'd got the material out of the way, he tossed it aside and turned, taking hold of the vocalist's arm and tugging it, suggesting that he get to his feet. "Up, Brian. Please?"
Much to the blonde's satisfaction, Manson unfolded his long legs, and stood, simultaneously managing to unfasten his own trousers with his shaking fingers. "You know," he began, cutting himself off as he stripped his shirt from his pale white, scarred torso and tossed it aside, "Twiggy's going to be pissed when he finds out-"
"I won't tell him," the blonde spoke quickly, stripping down to his underwear, which he intended to leave for his partner's removal.
"No – tell him. I want him to know I fucked you." Smirking, Manson grabbed John by the hips, and pulled him against himself, fingers roaming beneath the waistband and over his partner's flushed skin. "I always wanted to. I'm surprised you never-"
"Stop talking. Just – hush. You can say whatever it is that's so damned important later. But right now, I want you. No. I need you."
Immediately ceasing his incessant rambling, the singer mashed his faded lips against the other man's once more, curling his ringed fingers around the elastic waistband of John's briefs, then yanking them down. As he worked at removing his own underwear, the blonde hopped, kicking the material aside as soon as he was able.
Manson straightened, taking his time as his face passed the other's newly exposed nether regions, then grabbed his partner firmly by the ass, carefully backing up to the couch and dropping, bare-assed onto the furniture. Gesturing for the blonde to take a seat, his heart rate quickened in pure anticipation.
"Nuh-uh," the guitarist shook his head, and instead of straddling the vocalist's lap, as he was so desired to do, John knelt and took hold of his companion's hardened member with a fiddly hand, and leant forward, gingerly running his pink tongue over the tip, and then carefully down the shaft, chocolate-coloured eyes slipping shut as he focused on the task at hand. Despite not being terribly experienced in intercourse with members of the same sex, John had a general idea of what needed to be done. And with the orifice that was meant to be penetrated being so small in comparison to the bit of anatomy meant to be penetrating it, lubrication was definitely needed. As the petite blonde continued to move, running his tongue over and around the singer's erection, the vocalist gnawed at his lower lip, moaning and writhing under the other's touch.
"Enough," whined John, withdrawing his cute pink tongue and standing. He was aching to be touched; Manson's sounds of utter ecstasy had sent sparks straight from his ears to his pleasure-stricken groin. He physically couldn't stand it anymore. As he carefully straddled the other man's lap, he positioned himself over the singer's slick, pulsating arousal. "Mn, ready?" he questioned, fingers curling around his partner's base in order to guide him in.
Being unable to verbally respond, Manson simply nodded his head, tongue poised between his streaky lips in concentration.
Exhaling through his nose, the guitarist's blonde hair that had fallen in front of his face fluttered gently up before falling back into position in front of his face. "Here goes.~" Eyes slipping shut, John slowly lowered himself onto the other's saliva-slick erection, a soft squeak being emitted from his throat as he did so. It was painful – of course it was – but it was also an overwhelming pleasure to have the singer inside himself.
Tilting his head back, the shock-rocker released a growly, high-pitched groan, hands finding purchase on the other's slim hips. John was tight – unbelievably so – and the warmth enveloping his length was almost overwhelming. Shuddering, the singer adjusted his position, then sat still, awaiting his partner's signal to continue.
Thighs quivering, the blonde lifted himself up, almost completely off of the singer's erection, then slowly lowered his body back down, shivering as the friction tickled his nerves. Tears were welling in his big brown eyes, but he was determined to grit his teeth and bear it. It was bound to get better. Otherwise, why would people still be doing it? Hands firmly braced against the shock-rocker's scar-latticed chest, he began lifting himself up, and sliding back down, panting heavily as the singer's body fell into the jointed rhythm, bucking his hips upward.
