#talimenios

Alec was already braced for it when Seregil slammed him against the wall of the dressing room they shared, he was already grinning and already thrusting his hips forward.

“We have a bed at home…” he gasped, still breathless from their last encore, there was a note at the end that he had to practically howl, “A perfectly good bed, just a short cab ride away…”

“Are we even rock stars if we don’t ruin some dressing rooms?” Seregil purred, his skin burning with the effort and the need as he slipped his hands under Alec’s shirt. They were calloused from his years of playing, Alec could even feel where one of the strings had nicked him.

“You’re a rock star, talí,” Alec corrected, taking Seregil by the hips and jerking him closer, “I’m your backup singer.”

Seregil rolled his eyes, tossing the loose strands of hair back out of his eyes. Both of them kept their long hair tied back for shows, it was just easier, but after a full set and then several encores, both Seregil’s bun and Alec’s braid were coming undone. Most was plastered to their sweaty foreheads and whatever wasn’t already a mess would soon get that way as Seregil freed one hand from Alec’s waistband and combed his fingers through those long blonde flyaways.

“You’re not my backup anything,” he huffed, “You’ve got all the writing skills, your voice is gorgeous and...your clever hands…”

The clever hands he spoke of turned his indignance into a soft, shuddery gasp as they slid down his ripped jeans to free his erection. Quite a feat, given how tight they were. Alec grinned and kissed him, happy to know Seregil’s lipstick would soon be smudged all over his own mouth. The hand in his hair was now tugging more than it was stroking, raising goosebumps on his flushed skin. Both of them knew what they wanted and were making it very clear.

By now their long suffering manager knew to leave them alone for at least an hour after a show like this. Thero had learned a lot of hard lessons pretending to wrangle Seregil and it hadn’t gotten any easier since Alec had come along a year ago.

Seregil pulled away, leaving his talí whining at the loss, shimmying his jeans right down to his boots and hopping up onto the dressing table they’d been given. They always shared a dressing room, why hide what was already obvious to anyone who met them? In the harsh glow of the vanity lights, Seregil looked like the ethereal, otherworldly faie he sang like and still was deep down even after years of exile.

“Come,” he beckoned, grinning crookedly.

Alec did, more than willingly, yanking down his own pants and ducking between Seregil’s knees so he could have all of him pressed so temptingly against him. He was so warm down there, cock already slick and hard and wanting. And, as was now very obvious, open and ready for Alec.

His distinctive blue eyes widened in some mix of shock, awe and disbelief, “Have you...were you like this all night?”

Seregil smirked, beyond delighted that he could still make his lover blush, “Are you surprised? And, a more important question, are you going to stand there and let it go to waste?”

Alec rolled his eyes though he had to admit, it was a unique kind of delicious to be able to sink right into Seregil with no preamble or fuss, knowing that his body had been waiting for him all through the show, imagining Seregil rocking on his own fingers in the cramped bathroom stall and imagining this moment. From the way he groaned, thighs tightening around Alec’s hips and fingers digging into his hair, Seregil’s thoughts were running along the same tracks.

And then there was no thoughts in Alec’s mind but the rhythmic pull and tug of their bodies, the friction and sweat mingling on their bodies, the tight, sweet heat of Seregil around him, how he held him fast. They were well aware they had to be quiet, even with the rumours that surrounded them, so after a few thrusts, Seregil took one of Alec’s hands, the one that wasn’t braced against the mirror, and put it over his own mouth. The sight alone was hot enough that Alec could have finished then and there, if he hadn’t taken a few deep, ragged breaths to ground himself.

Alec knew there were so many cliches about music and making love, in how they were similar. But he couldn’t deny it was the exact same fervour, the need, the vulnerability he found when he gave himself completely to whatever song he was playing, surrendering to Seregil was the same. And neither he could have imagined himself doing before he came to the city.

It wasn’t long before they were close, they didn’t have the time to go slow and savour it, that would come later in their own bed as dawn broke over Rhíminee. This was fierce and fast and messy, an explosion of adrenaline and emotion, it was survival. So Alec felt no shame when he staggered against Seregil, filling him to the brim with his heat as he growled low in his throat, toppling his lover in the same moment. Heavy, wet spurts hit Alec’s shirt and he mentally reminded himself to change before they left the dressing room.

Alec’s palm was wet with the condensation of Seregil’s broken cry of release. He quickly replaced it with his lips, kissing his lover with a soft, relieved sigh that said everything he didn’t have the time to put into words. Seregil smiled, spent, against his mouth and let his hands fall from Alec’s hair to his shoulders, holding him fast.

“I love you,” he managed to gasp out, once his lungs could work again, “I love you, talí…”

“I love you too,” Alec murmured, unwilling to part from him, at least for now, his smile soft and so gentle.