#polyvessels

Zach looked away, at Marcus, maybe not in fear, but in a way that showed he knew better than to fight back. "Look, man, we—"

IV yanked his collar harshly. "No, fucking look at me", Zach's back hit the wall behind him. "Take a good look at me," the guitarist pulled his mask down. "I'm the only one you're gonna see when you try to look for her."

For one brief moment, you were able to tear your eyes away from them. III and Vessel were right behind, lingering. II held you in his arms, eyes still solely on you. 

No one was doing anything. No one was stopping IV. Why was no one doing anything? 

"You okay, love?", II asked, worried eyes scanning all over you. "Are you hurt?"

Still feeling a little frozen, your eyes instinctively went back to Marcus, Zach, and IV, without answering his questions. 

"Don't look at them", II asked gently. "Look at me. Eyes on me, yeah?" 

You looked back at him, and slowly nodded. 

"Good girl", he praised softly, and breathed deeply when you anchored yourself to his body, tucking your head on the curve of his neck and wrapping your arms around him. "We're gonna go straight to the van, yeah? I promise."

"If I see you within fifty yards from her—if I even hear your voice on the same hallway as hers—I'm not gonna call security", IV's threat cut through your mind, stealing your attention again. "I'm not gonna tell Jax. Do you understand?"

They didn't respond, and even though you tried to look, II's hand was on your jaw in no time, firm but gentle, keeping you from looking away from him. He was cooing soft nothings, kind, praising, but you didn't register. 

"Not so brave now, huh?", IV teased, yanking at the collar in his fist again so harshly, Zach's head hit against the wall. "Fucking piece of shit", he pushed him violently against the wall, and Zach had to fight back, trying to free himself from his grasp, but IV kept his shirt in a closed fist.  

III finally stepped in, pulling IV back slightly by his shoulder. "Leave it for later, Ive", he said firmly. "They're not worth the paper work", he eyed them up and down. "Not yet."

You let out a breath you didn't notice you were holding, thankful that someone had held IV back. But the guitarist didn't let them go before spitting on Zach's shoe. "Fucking cunts."

After letting him go, Zach tapped Marcus on the shoulder and both of them scrambled to the elevator. You watched IV walking towards you with your pulse in your throat, your hand already reaching for him. 

"You okay, darling?", he asked, the previous harshness in his eyes completely melted now, his arms enveloping both you and II.

You nodded, unable to speak, sobbing pathetically when he buried his nose into your hair. You wanted to scold him, tell him that the tour was important, that he shouldn't be risking his relationship with the label because of some girl. Nothing came out though, leaving you with that guilt brewing underneath the surface. 

The boys escorted you to the van, and the ride to the hotel was just a heavy, suffocating silence. No one said anything. II had your hand in his the whole time, sometimes he would cover your hand with both of his, or draw imaginary circles on the back of it. A soothing movement, that made you lean into him, rest your head on his shoulder. 

He rested his head on top of yours, and you could feel him breathing. It wasn't too laboured, but it wasn't the calm, centered movement you were used to either. Just enough to evidence the rage and discomfort still stirring inside. 

Now everything was swimming in your mind at once. The girl II was talking to, whatever the roadies intended to do had the boys failed to arrive on time, and the trouble IV had in his hands in case Zach and Marcus decided to talk to one of the managers and change the story in their favour. It was too much, and you did the only thing you could, you shut down. 

The boys tried to talk to you every now and then, but you couldn't answer. You limited yourself to smile tightly, shake your head yes or no. Each time you gave a sign that you were struggling with being there, II squeezed your hand tighter, or III put a hand on your knee, grounding, comforting. 

For a second, you wondered if you really wanted to be touched. It came to you that you did, if it was by them, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it. So you squeezed II's hand tight. 

At the elevator in the hotel, you pressed the button to your floor, but II gently pulled you back. 

"You're not going to your room, love", he said. "No way. You don't wanna talk? Don't talk. You want a room all to yourself? Have mine. But you're not going back to your room."

"I'd like some space", you told him, voice sounding a little distant in your own ears. 

Hurt glimmered in his eyes, but he blinked it away. "You can have all the space you want on our floor."

Something in you burned, made you frown, and it got to a boiling point when the door to II's suite closed behind you. 

"You shouldn't have done that", you said to IV, voice lower than you intended to. 

He was taken by surprise, you could see that, but composure came back to him quickly. "And what should I have done instead?", he asked calmly. 

You were taken aback. "Nothing", you said slowly. "You should've had come to me and help me out of there, without saying anything. You have any idea of how much shit you could get into with the label if they say you assaulted them?! How easily they can distort the whole thing and only make you look bad?"

"I do", he simply said. 

"Because of me", you whispered, your voice breaking on the edges. 

"Yes", he said. "Because of you."

You shook your head, trying to put some distance between you and them. IV didn't let you. He walked over to you in large strides, and enveloped you in his arms. 

"We're a team, darling", he said in your hair. "I take care of you and you take care of me. Yeah? Fuck the rest."

You sniffed against his arm, feeling small, but for the first time, you didn't feel pathetic or embarrassed for being comforted by someone. If anything, you felt empowered, like they were part of your strength now. Of course it was conflicting with the part of you that said you shouldn't be messing around with their careers, that you were too small to be walking with them, and that you didn't deserve that anyone would sacrifice anything to protect you. 

But at that moment, it was enough. 

"Sit down", you heard Vessel say. The first thing he said in a long time. You turned to him and he was pointing a the couch, patiently, unmoving. "Come sit", he extended his hand to you. 

You took his hand and did as he said. Vessel kneeled in front of you, starting to untie your boots. 

"I think...", Vessel started, treading very carefully. "We should stop pretending you mean nothing to us, just for the sake of others."

Your eyes dropped to him, but he didn't look back, now removing your socks. 

"People wouldn't mess with you this frequently if they understood you mean something to us", IV continued. "I think you would be safer. That's what matters."

You shook your head. "I wouldn't", you breathed out. "They would hate me for it."

"They don't hate you because you're ours", Vessel considered. "They hate you because they can't have you. That wouldn't change even if we didn't like you at all. Isn't it true?"

You fell silent. 

"It is absolute shit that you have to be protected, love", II finally said. "And I'm not saying you wouldn't survive without us. But people are already talking, it's too late now, even if you'd break it off with all of us right now, they will always talk. They started talking the first moment we even looked your way, that's how people are. I'm not asking you to snog III in front of everyone—"

"Although that would be ideal", III sing-sang from behind the couch, making you shake your head, trying hard not to grace him with your laughter. 

"I'm saying", II continued, glaring daggers at the bassist. "That standing a little closer to us, stop avoiding us, might do more good than bad."

You saw three other heads slightly nodding, agreeing with him. A sigh left your lips without permission.

"What if this becomes a problem for you?", you looked at each of them. "What if the managers don't like it, rightfully so? And I can't keep relying on you like that, how many of your chances to be with a beautiful girl like that one will I spoil because I can't handle myself?", you looked straight at II, painful heat rising from your chest to your throat. 

II looked genuinely confused, a deep frown carving itself on his forehead. "What?"

Suddenly, you didn't know what to say, and neither did he—you were absolutely embarrassed by your outburst, and he completely lost in whatever you meant by that. The tension in the air was thick, until Vessel decided to get up, brushing the knees of his pants. 

"Alright", the singer said. "Maybe we should give you some privacy to get changed and into bed. It's gonna be an intense day tomorrow."

You just nodded. IV and III went away with a kiss on your forehead. Vessel looked at you with adoration, and II with confusion, before they disappeared behind the door. 

In the hallway, they went their separate ways, IV asking for III to be with him that night, his mind still reeling because of the anger from what happened earlier, he needed some anchoring before sleep. II followed Vessel into his suite, so you would have his all to yourself for that night. 

As soon as the door closed behind him, the singer looked at him with a strange expression.  

"What was she talking about?", the drummer asked. 

Vessel took a deep breath. "I don't think she fully understands you", Vessel mused. "And I don't think you fully understand her either."

II sighed deeply. "Explain it then." 

Vessel shook his head, fiddling with his hands, unsure of what to say. "I don't know if it's my place to say it, but... I was talking to her, earlier today. She's scared to be vulnerable with you, because she doesn't think you're interested. And I think she had the confirmation she needed when she saw you flirting with that girl."

A sound left II's throat, a groan of frustration mixed with further confusion. "I wasn't flirting—fucks sake", he cursed. "The girl approached me and started talking, I barely heard one thing she said. Was just trying to distract myself with something to ignore the impulse to pry her out of that fucking booth and drag her by the hair back to the hotel."

A humorless laugh left Vessel's nose. "I know", he nodded. "She doesn't. She thinks your silence, your distance, is indifference. I tried to explain that you were giving her space, so she wouldn't feel obligated, but she doesn't know you that well. You can't expect her to jump to the right conclusions just because you want her to. She doesn't think you are able to... Correspond her feelings for you."

II went quiet for a second, and then he laughed, a jagged, almost desperate laugh. "Feelings? She thinks I—", the words snagged in his throat. "I haven't had one single thought that wasn't about her since I—"

"It's not me who needs to hear this, sweetheart", Vessel said gently. 

The drummer's mouth clacked shut, audibly. He took one look at Vessel, restless, and then he was out the door. 

---

The silence inside II's suite wasn't comforting, it felt like the ringing in your ears after a terrible concert. You only got up  from your seat to lock the door since they left, going to sit again on the couch and leaning over your own thighs. You stayed there, not really thinking about anything in particular. Their presence lingered, their cologne still in the air, and you realized you didn't want to be alone after everything that happened. 

Your skin felt too tight for your own body when the first blow hit the door. After what happened with Zach and Marcus, your first instinct was to jump out of the couch and take distance from it, looking around for something you could use to protect yourself with. Then another two heavy thuds on the door, so hard that made the wood groan. 

"Open the door, love", you heard II's voice. "It's me", he punctuated it by slapping the door one more time. "Open the door, please."

All of that tension keeping your body tight like a guitar string fell away, and your knees almost bucked under you out of relief. You didn't realize how much you've been craving that voice until now, and practically charged at the door. When you opened it, II spilled into the room like a landslide.

He looked ruined. Blonde hair messy, eyes bloodshot, slight out of breath without an obvious reason. There was no performance anymore, just him—intense, solid, beautiful II. 

You gulped. "Hi", you said shyly. 

He walked towards you, that determined but light strut, and when it looked like he wouldn't stop, you started walking backwards to avoid collision. You only stopped when your back hit the wall, and II stood there, not touching you, not giving you space to leave. He didn't greet you, didn't apologize for the intrusion. 

"Vessel— he told me", he choked out. "He said things. He said you weren't sure, about me? That for some fucking reason, you think I'm not borderline obsessed with you?", he gave you that smile, the one that never let you know whether he was joking or not. 

You held something in your chest, but you didn't know if it was a gasp or a laugh. Your eyes tried to wander, but he kept tilting his head, chasing you, not letting you get away. 

"I thought...", you squeaked. "I thought I was just part of the job to you. I thought you were kind, but not—", your words failed you when his hand moved to your wrist, sliding down to your hand. His palm was rough and scorching hot. "...not interested."

A chuckle left his lips, his eyes darkening more and more. "I'm not interested, love", he smirked, and took your hand to his lips, kissing and then placing it over his clavicle, right between his chest and his shoulders. "I'm hopelessly, relentlessly, ridiculously devoted. You enter the room, I hold my breath. You move, I follow. You smile, and I hope it's at me."

His other hand went to your jaw, tipping your face up to look at him. 

"II...", you started.

"No, don't", he interrupted. "You said your piece, exhaustingly so", he teased. "I'm sick of hearing you're just a roadie, that you don't want to become a problem, or be considered a distraction", the hand holding your jaw slid down to your shoulder, upper arm, forearm, and stopped on your wrist. His index and middle fingers found your pulse and stayed there, again, holding it delicately, measuring it. He licked his lips. "Now you'll listen to me like the good girl you are, yeah?"

Your bottom lip twitched. "Yeah."

You gulped when he brought your wrist to his lips, and kissed your pulse point. 

"I'm not letting you spend even another second believing you're just an assistant to me", his voice dropped an octave. "Since I looked at you for the first time, I haven't looked at anyone else. No one."

"But—"

"I was standing there, the whole night, watching the back of your head, feeling my own skin itch, because Nick Folio was breathing the air you were supposed to be sharing with me", he sounded confident, comfortable even. "Tell me you heard me. Tell me you know there's no one else."

Your breath came out shaky. "I heard you", you echoed obediently.

His eyes were darker, but his stone serious expression melted in a warm smile. "I was so daft, love", he offered, almost a whisper against your face. "Vessel said you thought I wouldn't correspond to your feelings. He wasn't lying, was he? There's feelings. Tell me he wasn't lying."

Heat rose to your cheeks, the vulnerability you dreaded so much right there, in front of you, ready to be owned. You shook your head weakly. "He wasn't..."

Air left his lungs in one single push. "I was so loud in my head, so clear. My stupid arse thought you could hear it. I thought you knew."

You swallowed thickly. "I couldn't", came out as a whisper. 

"You couldn't", he nodded. "I'm sorry, love. I'm not... Elegant. I don't have Vessel's words, or III's chaotic charm. I'm just—I'm yours, love. Pathetically yours. I'll do whatever you want, just don't ever think I'm looking at anyone else. Yeah?"

He leaned down, resting his forehead on yours. You nodded lightly, eyelids fluttering, the hand resting on his chest coming up to the back of his neck without your permission, pulling lightly at the blonde hair. He hummed a pleased note, eyes closing softly at your touch. 

"Yeah", you murmured, mouth inches from his. 

"Tell me to stop."

You exhaled quietly, your silence being your ultimate confession. II could do anything he wanted to you at this point, and you would thank him for it. 

His hand curled around your waist firmly, and you gasped. The space between you two felt fragile and electric, as if even a breath would snap it. And he leaned further down, closing the distance.

Kissing II felt like trying to negotiate with a hailstorm. It hit you quickly, deeply, igniting a fire that you didn't know was there, but that felt undeniably yours. Kissing II was heartbreaking, to the point it made you sob. 

You felt powerful, complete, perfect, like he said you were so many times before. His kiss was filled with silent promises, of future, of love, of being with him forever. From behind your eyelids, you saw a pretty house, a large backyard, blue-eyed children playing around. 

His hand on your waist moved to the hem of the mesh top you were wearing. The other hand remained feeling your pulse, appreciating how it picked up when his tongue tasted yours. The first time you felt II's calloused fingers on the sensitive skin of your stomach was overwhelming. 

You melted against him, fighting to keep your body from going completely limp. His left hand finally dropped your wrist, joining the other to hike up your top. Your hands rested on his biceps, feeling the warmth of his touch weaving through every inch of you. 

He took one step closer, caging you completely between his chest and the wall, his lips never leaving yours, sucking on your tongue, biting down on your lower lip. Your legs parted by instinct, the soft friction and pressure getting you deliciously frustrated, pulling a quiet moan from you. He swallowed it, his moans an echo of yours, gruffier, more desperate.

You clutched the fabric of his black t-shirt, grounding yourself in the sensation, in the way he held you, possessive, protective, demanding. He pulled back just enough to yank your top over your head, letting it fall beside you. Rough fingers trailed the band of your bralette until they found the clasp, leaving your top half completely exposed to him. 

"Fuck, love", he mumbled, forehead resting on your temple, blonde eyelashes fluttering shut.

He retreated his fingers just slightly and took a deep, shaky breath. The energy shifted, and you looked up at him and wished you didn't. Those heavy, glacier eyes were peering down at you, the most overwhelming feeling flowing from him to you. 

"II...", you called. 

"You have no idea of how beautiful you are", he blurted, his usual calmness laced with just a hint of despair, like he was doing his best to hold a flood back with his hands. "I realized you don't even know what you do to me."

His right hand came up from your waist to your ribs, cupping your left breast. The strong hand was delicate, too delicate considering the power in them, but it was trembling slightly, betraying the restraint he clung onto so tightly. His thumb brushed your nipple so tenderly, it ached. 

Your head dropped against the wall, lips parting in a muted gasp. He gasped with you, rolling your nipple between his rough fingers, a little harsher this time.

II dropped his head on your collarbone, nipping and kissing your skin until it burned, then your neck, your jaw, as the fingers of his right hand let go of your breast and dipped inside your leggings. Your mind was so lost on how his kisses felt, that you only registered his touch when his fingers pressed on your sex through your panties. You gasped, knees parting wider.

"Fuck, love, you're soaked", he rasped, his left hand squeezing your ribs tighter. 

You moaned against his mouth, and he took the opportunity to kiss you again, shoving his warm tongue inside. He sucked and licked, messy, unrestrained, completely surrendered.

His soaked fingers went flat against your slit, his middle finger slotted perfectly there. He pressed upwards and stilled, making your hips thrust back and forth for friction. Your hands clawed onto his shirt, your mouth chased his until it found it. 

His left hand went up to the back of your neck, and it closed there, fisting a handful of your hair while he kissed you. A guttural, broken sound left his chest and died on your tongue. His face forced yours back, and he broke the kiss to press your foreheads together, nose brushing the tip of yours. 

"Ride my hand, love."

Your brain froze. "Wh—what?"

He pressed his fingers harder up your pussy, just to make a point. "I want you to rub this wet cunt on my hand", he said very carefully, in that tone he always uses with you, that you don't know if it's commanding or pleading. 

His words made you clench, and he felt it, letting a strangled moan slip. Your hips stuttered against his hand, moving clumsily, chasing any kind of friction that would suffice. Tiny moans spilled from you, your hands clinging to his arms.

"There she is, good girl", he praised in between kisses. "Take what you need from me. Feel good for me, love."

It was frustrating, having your hips grinding against his hand and it not being enough. You clawed on his shirt, watching amusement flash across his eyes, swimming with desire. 

You slapped his shoulder weakly, earning a small, mean chuckle. "II...", you complained. 

He huffed through his nose. "Yeah, I got you, love", he pressed you even further against the wall. "I got you."

He pulled his hand away just to push your panties aside. Feeling the tips of his bare fingers on your wet cunt made you choke on a moan, like you've never been touched in your life. He hissed like you shocked him, his breath catching on his throat, like he was overwhelmed just by the feeling of you. 

His middle finger circled your clit a couple of times, and then dipped shallowly in your entrance.

"I've been thinking about this since I met you", he whispered, brushing his lips to your jaw. "Thinking about how you'd sound if I made you cum. Imagining your face when I touched you right here", his finger dipped deeper. 

You whimpered and trembled, feeling so close to the edge already that you wanted to cry. Your walls clamped around him, sucking him in, and he sobbed. 

"My God, love, you're so warm", he panted, kissing you one more time. "So perfect—I can't, fuck", he mumbled. 

You fluttered around his finger, your back arching away from the wall while your hands clung to the golden hair on the nape of his neck. Dropping his head forward, he collided his forehead with yours, breathing heavily against your face. His other hand gripping your hip so hard, it would certainly bruise. 

His index finger joined the middle one inside you, dipping fast, and together they made that come hither motion. And you almost did. 

"II, please", you sobbed in his mouth, your chapped lips being assaulted by his once again. "I'm gonna—"

"Do it", he asked, or demanded, or pleaded, you couldn't know. "I need to feel you dissolve in my hands. I've been waiting, love... God, I've been starving for it."

A ragged moan pushed out from your throat violently, your hands shaking uncontrollably on his shoulders. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut, but a large hand came to your jaw, squishing your cheeks together harshly. "No, love, look at me. Please, look at me."

And you did. His fingers never stopped, relentless against your sensitive walls, exploring, caressing, scissoring you open, and something deep inside you broke open with the sight of his ruined eyes, so beautiful and so lost, as if you were the most sacred thing in the world. You came with broken sobs and loud moans, clawing at his shoulders and clenching around his fingers. 

He didn't take his fingers out at first, his face still nudging yours. His body was trembling, all harnessed energy that threatened to break free at any moment. 

"That's perfect. You're perfect. You're fucking beautiful", he whispered, his left hand let go of your face to rest on your neck. "I need to be inside you, love."

Your insides clenched. "Please", you desperately said. "Please, fuck me, II."

II whimpered, his fist closing around your neck stronger. You used your hands to pull his shirt up, and he let go of you just to tug it over his head. His inked torso appeared to you like a sight from heaven, the most beautiful patterns snaking from behind this ears, down his neck, his shoulders and arms, chest, down, down his abdomen, dipping inside his waistband. 

A whole, gorgeous body, covered in ink and lean muscle, all elegant, filled with raw power, control, and adoration just for you. You could see his muscles tensing and moving under the smooth skin. Soft golden hairs glittering under the soft light of the room, over his arms, in the center of his chest, forming a small gold trail from his navel to his waistband.

Your mouth watered. You wanted to drop to your knees in front of him, so you did. II wanted to pull you up, to tell you it was all for you that night, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

You looked just so damn pretty on your knees for him. Your frantic fingers undid the button on his black jeans, pulling it down just enough to see his huge hard cock strained against his boxers. Bracing yourself on his lean thighs, you looked up, hoping you would look sexy to him, or at least something close to it, but you forgot all about it when you saw the intensity in his eyes. 

His large, beautiful hand went to the crown of your head first, pulling lightly on your hair to tilt your face up. Another hand came to your chin, caressing your face, and then both hands were brushing fingers on your cheeks, tucking your hair behind your ears. You stroke him through his boxer briefs, hearing a low rumble forming inside his chest, encouraging you further. 

Your hand pulled his cock out as if you were in a trance. It was big, too big, beautiful and girthy, veiny, with a thick head, flushed red, with a delicate white pearl already forming at the tip. His hands guided you to it, his thumb tracing your lips once, pulling your bottom lip down to show your wet teeth.

Your mouth opened eagerly, your tongue rolling out to taste the saltiness of him. His left hand went up to the wall, his forehead resting on top of it while he looked down at you. You couldn't bring yourself to take your time like you did with Vessel. 

It felt urgent, as if you would wake up from it at any moment, and in the urgency to make the best out of it, you engulfed him in your mouth in one go, or tried to, stopping shortly past the tip, feeling your throat contracting around it. 

"Oh, fuck...", he groaned, fingers closing harshly on your hair. "I fucking adore you, love", he confessed, all ragged breath and broken moans. "Your mouth feels like heaven."

Your eyes fluttered shut and you started bobbing your head. His knees bucked involuntarily while you kept sucking and lapping, each movement of your head meant to at least try and take him deeper in your throat. You could feel his struggle through the hand he had on your hair, sometimes yanking it harder than he felt he should, shaking while trying to let go, smoothing the back of your head tenderly as if he was saying sorry, just to do it all over again. 

You leaned away from him just for a second, licking your lips, and he wiped the saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. 

"I can take it, II", you said between puffs of breath, watching his eyes go dark. "Don't hold back, I want you to fuck my mouth", you purred. 

His hand craddled your jaw, and with a controlled but undeniable force, he pried your mouth open again. "You can take it, huh?", his voice dropped an octave, making your stomach jump. "You're so good to me, sweetheart. Open wide for me then, yeah?"

Your jaw fell open instantly, and he groaned at the sight as he slid himself inside your mouth. The way his hips started swaying instantly made heat pool between your thighs. He kept his hand on your face, strong and grounding, almost hurting your jaw but not quite, while his hips kept that controlled back and forth and your hands anchored you to his thighs. 

Pitching forward, you forced him to touch the back of your throat, and watched the rest of his resolve to stay in control completely fall on top of you. He let out a broken, helpless moan, knees shaking slightly, and started fucking your face faster and deeper. You clawed at his naked hip, while he pulled on your hair freely now. 

"God, love, so warm", he mumbled, forcing himself just an inch further down your throat. "Ah— Jesus, so soft, I can't—", his hips stuttered forward with a strangled moan. Your eyes stung with tears, a ragged moan ripping through your throat and vibrating on his cock, forcing him to brace himself against the wall. 

His head dropped to look at you, and he groaned at the sight of the mascara running down your face. A shiver ran down his spine and his cock kicked inside your mouth. "You look so fucking pretty... So pretty for me", his ramblings made the whole thing even hotter. 

He sounded almost drunk. You wanted to make him talk more. You wanted him on his knees for you. You wanted him to come in your mouth. 

But when you picked up the pace, his wrist wound up on your hair and yanked it back like a leash. "Wait, love, not yet, not like this...", it was merely a whisper.

Instead of pulling you up, II dropped to his knees in front of you, both hands cradling your face as he pulled you in for the deepest kiss of your life. He groaned and moaned, licking the roof of your mouth desperately. For a while, he didn't talk, just crawled over you, forcing your back against the wall while pawing at your leggings. 

He pulled it down as soon as he got his fingers hooked at the waistband, leaving you just in your panties for a moment, stopping just to get a good look at you.

"You're even prettier than I thought", he confessed, crawling on all fours to get to your face. He grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together almost as if he was angry. "I'm crazy about you. You know that, right?", he shook your head lightly, thumbing your bottom lip as if to test the softness. "I'd do anything for you, love."

You sucked a breath in what sounded like a sob. Your hands went to the sides of his face and pulled him down for a kiss. He stiffened in your hands, almost as if he didn't expect to be kissed first at any moment. 

As if he wasn't beautiful. As if he wasn't one of the best things that ever happened to you. 

His hand went to the back of your neck, slid down your back, and hooked around the thin elastic band of your underwear. He broke the kiss to press his lips to your chin, the column of your neck, your chest right above your heart, the valley of your breasts, until he pulled one nipple in his mouth, trapping it between his teeth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Your body arched towards him, and he took the opportunity to slid your panties down your legs. 

II pulled away and sat back on his ankles to watch the last piece of clothing peel away from your legs. The softness with which he did it almost tickled. His breath left his lips at the same time he parted your knees. 

You were bracing yourself on your arms on the floor, head against the wall, legs open wide for him, and for once you didn't feel shy, or lost, or insecure. It didn't feel like it was the first time, in the way you felt safe and comfortable, but it certainly felt like your first time being touched, the way his callouses caught on the dips of your skin, the way every nerve ending burned under his hands, so rough from years of discipline and love for his art, now entirely dedicated to you. II leaned over you with care, pulled your arms to wrap around his shoulders, and pulled you up with him to stand back up. 

It didn't feel like your legs would be able to sustain you for long, and thankfully, you felt II's hands skimming down your back while he kissed you for the thousandth time. He squeezed your ass hungrily, and slipped past it, hooking his hands on the underside of your thighs. You wrapped one leg around his hip, and then the other after he supported your weight and pressed you against the wall again, his powerful fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. 

He wasn't trying to control you, but himself, to feel tethered to you somehow. 

"You're perfect", he repeated. "I need to be inside you", his head dropped forward, forehead touching yours while he swallowed thickly. "I want you as close as possible, nothing in between us anymore", his breath came out jagged. "Are you on the pill, love? Can I?"

You gulped. You knew better than go raw on a rockstar. 

"Yes", you breathed against his lips. "Yes, please."

A shuddered breath hit your face. You were spreaded out for him, completely at his mercy in his arms, completely open. He leaned forward, slightly, his fat tip nudging your folds, pushing in gently. It stretched you deliciously, a  good burn making you clench and soak even further, pulling a helpless moan from his throat. 

"Ohh, fuck", he sobbed against your face, opening his beautiful glacier eyes to look at you, your eyes screwed shut from pleasure. "Open your eyes for me, sweetheart", he panted. "Look at me while you take me, yeah? Eyes on me."

The effort was absurd, your eyelids felt heavier than led, but you managed. "Good girl", he praised. "So good for me", his hips pushed just a little bit further, and you hissed, muscles tightening involuntarily from the ache. "Just the tip, baby. Breathe for me."

You did as you were told, feeling your chest expanding against his, arms clinging to his lean but strong shoulders as if your life depended on it. He pushed in to the hilt, so achingly slow, so torturous, you almost came right there, walls convulsing hungrily around him while you cried. Your nails sank on his skin, your ankles dug on his hips. 

"Oh my God, II", you cried, doing your best to keep your eyes open, face resting against his. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum so fast", a half-laugh, half-moan ripped through him. "You're everything", he mumbled like prayer, still staring at you. "The way you take me— ah..."

He stilled, fully sheathed in you, his tip kissing your depths, twitching, kicking, ripping moans and sobs from you. He couldn't move, not when you hugged him so tightly, not when you felt so hot and wet around him. When you felt him drawing a deep, shaky breath, and close his eyes for a second of concentration, you couldn't help but chuckle lightly, him following suit, resting his forehead on yours. 

The small moment of laughter lasted but mere seconds, as his breathing picked up again, and he started to move, slowly, barely. Again, the movement of hips, sending sparks under your skin, lighting up every nerve, every sensitivity you didn't know you had. II anchored himself in a rhythmic, percussive instinct it seemed he couldn't switch off, hips swaying lightly and gracefully against yours, creating just the perfect friction. 

Your senses were flooded, by the textures of his skin, by the intensity in his eyes, the smell of his smokey perfume. You wanted him closer, if that was possible, so you tightened your legs around him and pulled him in harshly, forcing out of him the hottest, most syrupy moan you ever heard. His head fell on the crook of your neck for a while, his teeth sinking softly into the skin there. 

"Ahh— f-ffuck...", he whimpered, another helpless sound tearing from him. "You're so tight, sweetheart, you're so perfect", he repeated. "I've never— I've never felt like this."

You fluttered and clenched around him again, and felt his heart hammering against yours, the same frantic thudding, like war drums in sync in both of your chests. Like they were trying to talk to each other, reach each other through your ribcages. You finally, finally believed him. 

You believed everything he ever said. How beautiful he thought you were, how strong and capable. How much he liked you. 

He started moving with a spearing force, thrusting into you hard and deep, and when you felt his tip brush against that place within you that made you writhe, your head fell back against the wall, mouth open, shameless, loud moans ripping through your vocal cords. It seemed II liked that sound, hiking you up a little higher, readjusting the uncomfortable position just so he could move faster, deeper, whining by your ear with a deep, pleasure-ridden frown on his face. You tangled your fingers on his hair, pulling his face down to you for a deep kiss while you both whined. 

"Fuck, baby... Right here?", he cooed, spearing your insides once more, making the muscles on your thighs convulse. 

You nodded weakly, whimpering against his face, your eyes finally falling shut for good. "Mhmm, yes, right there, please don't stop", you begged, feeling your helpless muscles clenching even tighter. 

The grip you had on him was so tight, he thought he would lose his mind, speeding up and banging your back against the wall, chasing your high before it got the best out of him. You clung to his shoulders with all you had, not an ounce of fear of being dropped with the strong hold he had on you the whole time. His face fit perfectly on the curve of your neck, as if it was made for it, and your arms wrapped perfectly around his shoulders. Only his warmth, and his smell, and his cock fucking into you existed in the world.

"II, I'm gonna cum", you cried. "Fuck, I'm gonna—"

"That's it, princess", he groaned against your sternum, his little nickname for you sizzling under your bones. "Cum on me. Please, I need to feel it."

The whimper that tore out of his tattooed chest tipped you over the edge, and you screamed. Your cunt pulsed and pulled him in even further, and through everything, you felt all of the chords in your body snap. From behind your wails, you were able to hear a gush of water hit the floor beneath you. 

II didn't stop, but his hips faltered, almost as if he had forgotten how to move. "Holy fuck, love did you just—", his sentence was cut by a loud moan, feeling his pants soaked by your juices. "I'm gonna cum", he whispered, voice ruined, face pressing against yours. "I'm gonna cum inside you—please, love, please, let me..."

His hands dug into your thighs until it hurt. You knew what he was asking, you knew what it implied, you knew there was no going back from it. You shouldn't. You shouldn't. 

"Please", you begged with a hoarse voice, tears streaming down your face since the orgasm, feeling your walls clenching again. "Please, fill me up, II. Need your cum—"

Your sob and his groan, a drawn-out, raspy sound, cut off anything you had to say. You were flooded by his heat, filled to the brim, completed. The frantic twitch of his cock buried deep inside you, kicking nonstop, forced another orgasm out of you, squeezing him hard enough to make him cry. 

For a while, nothing could be heard except your synchronized breathing. II didn't let you go, although you could feel his thighs trembling as much as yours. He remained with his forehead pressed against your cheek, his hot breath fanning over your face. 

You started kissing him again, relishing on the way his facial hair brushed your lips. He broke the kiss, but stayed there, nudging your face with his perfect nose. 

"You came again...", he breathed out, big eyes filled with wonder. "...just from me cumming inside?"

An attempt to respond was interrupted by the feeling of him pulling out of you, and you complained about the emptiness. He didn't let you go, only pressed his body harder on yours, barely giving you the chance to catch your breath. 

"I'm not done with you", he said quietly. "I'm not nearly done."

II pulled you away from the wall, hiking you up and holding you firmer, so you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, your arms around his neck. He carried you to the edge of the bed, and instead of dropping you, he gently sat you down, crawling over you immediately to steal more kisses. They were sweeter this time, less urgent, more reverential. 

You stayed tangled up around him, his arms pulling you along with him to the center of the bed. The scratch of his mustache on your lips, then down to your chin, the column of your throat, his teeth nipping at your sternum. II kissed gently each one of your nipples, pulling one into his mouth and rolling it on the tip of his tongue, letting it go with a wet pop and doing the same with the other. 

His open mouth kisses trailed down your stomach, your lower belly, and finishing with two sweet kisses on each hip bone. II grabbed the back of both of your knees and hiked your legs up, planting your feet firmly on the mattress. You were completely exposed to him, knees far apart, feeling his release ooze out of you. 

"Fuck, this is the most perfect cunt I've ever seen", he whispered, more to himself than you, looking ruined, wide eyed and amazed. "So full of me."

II gathered his come running out of you on his index and middle fingers and pushed it back inside you, making you moan hoarsely and lift your head to look at him. 

"I wanna know I'm dripping out of you the whole day tomorrow", he smirked at you before landing a kiss on the crest of your sex. 

He pulled you harshly against his face, sucking and lapping on your folds while his two fingers explored your insides. You were barely able to moan, legs moving up to close around his head, ankles digging into his back.

You reached for his golden hair, closing your fingers harsher than you meant to, pulling on it without thinking about it. Each tug from your hand coaxing him to moan into your pussy, sending vibrations up your spine, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. When the tips of his teeth found a sensitive little spot right under your clit, your back arched away from the bed, pleasure beginning to fizzle again. 

II didn't let you get there. He pulled back, and slid up across your torso, coming to hover over you, bracing his arms on each side of your head, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. You were trying to catch your breath, panting heavily while watching a smile blooming on his face, reaching his eyes. 

"I want you to sit on my face", he said plainly. 

You blinked, feeling your brains turn into mush. "W-what?"

He didn't bother to answer, just hooked his arms under yours, pulling you harshly against him while rolling onto his back. II settled you on top of him. 

"I want you on top", he started pulling you up while you were clumsily crawling on all fours over him, hooking his hands on the curve of your ass until you were sitting on his chest, knees on each side of his neck. He tugged you further up by the hips. "Sit for me. Please."

Grabbing onto the headboard for balance, you slowly lowered yourself on his face, hissing at the feeling of his beard grazing your petals. II immediately closed his eyes and darted his tongue out to taste you, lavishing with powerful, thoughtful strokes. Your legs started quaking that same moment, moans spilling freely while you grabbed onto that headboard for dear life. 

He turned his head slightly just to catch his breath, and then grabbed your thighs forcefully to pull you down on him. 

"Sit, love", his voice sounded muffled by the skin of your thigh. "Let go of that damn thing", his hand reached up for yours, making you huff a chuckle between moans with the attempt of wrestling you away from the headboard. 

You raised your body up again, hearing him grunt a complaint and trying to pull you down on his face again. 

"Stop!", you squealed. "I'm gonna crush you!"

He scoffed. "I wish."

Managing to grab ahold of your wrist, he pulled on it harshly, one hand holding both your wrists in front of you, the other in an iron grip where your hip meets the top of you thigh. Your weight fell onto his face, and he grunted against you, pulling your folds between his teeth, penetrating you with his tongue. Without your hands to help finding balance, you had to sink further into him to avoid falling sideways. 

It seemed to be what he wanted, pressing you further down with the hand on your hip, lapping at you until he found the right places, pressure, and speed that made you shake like a high voltage current had ran up your spine. It didn't take long for you to feel that pressure on your lower belly, making you sob and whine, his groans muffled against your wetness. The pleasure sizzled and exploded, something molten and unbearably hot, everything coiled and released, II drinking from you as if he had been thirsty for years. 

Your legs shook around his head, and only after you came with a wail he let go of your wrists. The air left your lungs in a long, shuddering sob, as the gravity you've been fighting against for weeks finally claimed you. Your strength evaporated, and you slid down his chest. You didn't make it all the way to his lap, collapsing right there on his stomach, your cheek pressed against his hot, damp skin, your heart slamming against his ribcage.

The silence was heavy, broken only by your synchronized breathing. II let out a low, gravelly sound, a laugh, and brought his large hands to stroke your hair, and tuck damp locks behind your ears, his touch trembling with lingering adrenaline. 

"I think you broke me", you breathed against his chest, listening to the delicious rumble of a chuckle rise in his chest. "I think I've seen the end of the world right there... My legs probably won't work anymore."

"It's okay", he had a bit of a laughter remaining in his voice. "I'll carry you wherever you wanna go from now on. If it was up to me, your feet wouldn't touch the ground ever again."

The humour was a brief, sweet reprieve, until you picked your head up from his chest and looked at him. With the cloudness of pleasure gone from your eyes, you were finally reminded of just how beautiful II was. It was a shame, really, to have fucked him and barely appreciated his face properly, or his golden hair, or lean muscle covered in colorful designs. 

You looked down at him as if he was something different than a man, definitely something different from all the men you have been with since before you joined this tour. II looked up at you as if you were something so sacred, he barely had the right to gaze upon you, as if he feared someone would come to take you away from him at any moment, so he was trying to memorize you. Blue eyes darting from left to right, landing on little scars and marks, on the lines of your lips, on the small wrinkles on the corner of your eyes. 

"Don't run from me ever again," he pleaded, pulling you further up, his face so close from yours you were able to feel his breath. "Always stay where I can see you, yeah? I'll fucking kill anything that touches you."

He pulled your face closer and instead of responding to him you just leaned in for a kiss. II tangled his fingers right at the roots of your hair with a measured force, coaxed your lips open with his, hummed softly inside your mouth when his tongue brushed yours. He didn't take like III, he didn't give like IV, he didn't worship like Vessel. 

II kissed you like a husband would. Like he's asking to build something together, like there's truthfulness in promises of future, like he would give you whatever you asked. And you pushed yourself further into that kiss, trying to match the strokes of his tongue. 

You felt a flicker of intimidation right there. You've never been desired like this before them, you've never been the sole focus of a hunger that seemed to be a renewable resource.

And then, as you kissed, his hands on your hair, yours on his neck and chest, you rolled your hips down to feel his blunt tip slot against your wet heat. He groaned and his hand went down to your waist, squeezing you without pressing you down on him. 

"I haven't even caught my breath yet," you chuckled against his mouth, making him huff a laugh too. 

"Breathing is overrated", he whispered against your lips, pulling your head in for another short kiss. "I have a couple months I need to get out of my system, every beat I missed 'cause I couldn't touch you... I need to make up for it."

He didn't force you though, not even guided you. His hands merely rested on your hips as you slid further down his body. The friction of your skin, the scent in the air, dropped the room back into that high-voltage static from earlier. 

"Ride me, love," he coaxed. "Take what you need from me. I'm all yours anyway."

You didn't need to be told twice. The intimidation melted, your hunger matched his, never more than what was offered, but also encouraging to ask for more. You hiked yourself up, legs framing his narrow hips, and reached behind to grab ahold of him, guide him to your entrance. 

His face scrunched in a beautiful frown, mouth falling open around a silent moan as his tip caught on your wet slit. You slowly lowered yourself onto him, bracing yourself on his stomach as you two moaned in unison. The stretch still hurt, the way he filled you so perfectly, like there was no room for air in your lungs still overwhelmed you. 

II let out an unholy growl, something that sounded like a forgotten, fractured prayer. His head thudded back against the headboard, his eyes screwed shut as his knuckles turned white around your waist.

"Oh my God, love", he mumbled. "You don't know... You don't even know what you do to me," his words were all jumbled together, like he was in a trance. "You're so tight," he sobbed. "You're perfect. I'm yours, all yours."

In your whole life, throughout the few years that led you to that very moment, you've never felt on top like that. Not just the position, but the feeling of being powerful, of taking what you wanted from him, of having him so eager to give it to you. You fell into a rhythm that was all yours, perfect for you, to make your whole body sing along to the drumming of his heart. 

A slow, grinding tempo that forced him to feel every bit of friction, every drop of your heat. 

The view you had was intoxicating. This was the powerhouse behind the melody, the man who injected structure into every chord you've been hearing for weeks. Without him, the music was watery, shapeless. 

He held the entire stage with his hands, the same ones that prevented you from drifting away in that moment. And he was pinned down to the bed by your weight, chest heaving, jaw set in an expression of submission. You leaned forward, your hands finding his chest, and he held your wrists there. 

The masks they wore made you grateful for every second you could see their faces, and with II it wasn't different. But especially at that moment, all you wanted was to memorize what his face looked like while you rode him like you owned him. The way his brow furrowed, the way his lips parted. Every time you rose and fell, he would let out a low hitch of breath meant only for your ears. 

"Don't stop, sweetheart", he rasped, fingers curling even tighter around your waist. "Please don't stop."

You sobbed when his hips started thrusting up into you, breaking your tempo, kissing your cervix. 

"Are you gonna fill me up again?," you heard yourself asking in a thin thread of voice, without having thought about it. 

II let out a low moan, cock twitching against your walls. A half-groan, half-laugh, broke his face. He grabbed your wrists again, pulling on them, making you crash on his solid chest. 

The world tilted on its axis as you were rolled onto your back, perfectly landing on the softness of the mattress with him on top, still inside you. His weight deliciously pinning you down, settling between your thighs like he belonged there all along. One strong hand went to hold your hip down, the other wrapped around your jaw and behind your ear as he licked inside your mouth with desperate thirsd.

His hips snapped against yours in one fluid motion, and you saw stars behind your eyelids. Then again, and again, until you were quivering. 

"II," you cried, nails digging on his back while you tried to anchor yourself on anything real. 

"I know," he cooed. "I've got you," he breathed, forehead pressed against yours. "I've got you, love. Just look at me, yeah?"

He hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist and he fucked into you deeper. You only sobbed in response, looking into his glacier eyes until yours stinged with tears. 

"No one has ever felt like this," he confessed. "Ever. I wanna stay inside you forever."

II changed slightly the angle, his blunt tip brushing relentlessly on that spot inside of you, and as you fluttered around him, he moaned a low, broken sound, as if the pressure alone would make him come again. He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his breathing under control, the thin gold chain around his neck dangling and brushing your chin. His fingers squeezed the outside of one of your thighs harshly. 

"You're so fucking tight," he repeated, his voice merely a whine. "I feel everything, every time you squeeze me—shit, you're gonna drive me crazy."

You locked your legs around him, digging your heels on his back, and you clenched so hard it got both of you gasping. "Fuck, there it is again," his breath hitched harshly. "Ohh, f-fuck, there, right there, baby, give it to me."

His hand let go of your thigh, and slipped down to where you were joined. The rough pad of his middle finger found your slick clit and your skin was immediately on fire. II fucked you slow and deep, never speeding up, too dedicated to make it last as much as he could.

His finger on your clit wasn't different, slow but firm strokes, your wetness making the most obscene sounds. Every inch of muscle started quaking. 

"Shit, shit, you're gonna make me lose it—," he whimpered. "Cum for me," he begged. "Cum while I'm inside you, love."

And as if your body was hardwired to obey him, you did. You felt every knot in your muscles snap, every insecurity slip from your skin like melted wax. Your head fell back with a scream that scraped your throat, back arching away from the bed and into him. 

You planted your feet firmly on the mattress to thrust your hips towards his, cunt convulsing, pulling him in further while you cried, tears smearing makeup into your hairline. 

"Oh my God, II!" you yelled for the whole building to hear. 

"Fucking hell— yeah, that's it, love," you could see how good this was for him on the lines on his forehead, on the sweat blooming on his hairline. "You're everything."

You shattered under the weight of his admiration. Silently at first, with your jaw hanging open and no sound coming out for a split second, only for a sequence of moans and whimpers to spill out loudly, embarrassingly so. Your whole body arched, clenched, sucked everything in to the point it felt like you would break.

Every ridge of his length, every pump he would give you with his hips, the way he filled you like he was made for it, you could feel everything in the vice-like grip you had on him. And II didn't stop, hips faltering, stuttering, but determined to see you through your high until every drop of sweat and tears belonged to him. You didn't just clench, you wrapped around him, pulled him in deeper like you were trying to keep him there forever. 

II felt everything too, his moans spilling freely inside your mouth as he leaned in to kiss you again. He braced himself on his arms to pull up, and looked down at where you were joined. Leaning back, he pulled your legs up until you were practically folded in half, pressed your knees against your chest. If your cunt wanted him deeper, he would gladly oblige. 

"Fucking God," he cursed, watching your pussy split open around him. "Look at you— taking me so well, so fucking—," every sentence broken by a moan. "You're fucking milking me, love, fuck— ahh!"

Your walls started fluttering again, even though you were not sure if it was due to another orgasm building or simply overstimulation. You cried, sobbed, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. He let go of your legs and almost collapsed on top of you, fucking into you even slower, even deeper, chasing something he could only find inside you. 

His voice broke around a string of curses, and praises, and confessions. 

"So fucking perfect... So fucking good... I've never— you're—I'm yours, love."

You were fluttering and pulsing around him, your throat raw from the loud whines that insisted in spilling. His body started trembling, his thrusts fell out of rhythm—the very first time you saw II lose the percussive grace he seemed to use for everything. He used one of his hands to pry yours away from his neck and lace your fingers together, pressing the back of your hand on the mattress beside your head, wanting to tie the both of you together somehow. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he whispered, voice snagging on his throat, forehead dropping against yours again.

"Cum inside me again, II," you begged in a low whimper, opening your eyes to stare into his. "I wanna go to work tomorrow with your cum dripping out of me."

You had no idea where that came from, but it did it for him. He pressed his forehead to the side of your face and tied a string of moans and curses together, eyes shut as his whole body trembled, cock kicking wildly inside of you. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" 

He whimpered desperately as you felt yourself being flooded by his heat. Your cunt seemed to flutter in the same rhythm his cock twitched, and you didn't know how another orgasm sizzled from inside you again, a white hot flash crossing your eyes by surprise, making your legs almost cramp, pulling him in viciously. II slumped on top of you, his head resting on the crook of your neck, while you tried to catch your breath. 

"Jesus," he whispered after a moment of just panting. "I've never—fuck, I've never came this hard before."

Your whole body was still twitching, you had your lips between your teeth, eyes closed, and your walls still spasmed tiredly from time to time, pulling breathy moans from him. Every muscle and bone in your body simply disappeared, your arms fell limp while your hands still desperately tried to curl around any skin they could find, holding him to you as if you were afraid he would slip away. He freed his arm from your grasp to turn your jaw towards him, kissing you again with a beautiful frown.

His thumb caressed your jaw so tenderly it ached. You felt his hip move slightly to find a comfortable position, and you held him still.

"No," you whined, suddenly embarrassed for being so needy. "Don't leave yet. Stay here."

He smiled lazily and kissed your temple. 

"I don't wanna pretend this is nothing," he confessed, blue eyes looking straight into yours. "Don't wanna go back to how it was."

You looked back, feeling your heart slamming against your ribs. 

"Me neither," might have been the truest thing you've said in your life.