Inked and Harder (MM)

When Dylan, bass player for coolest band in town Mudride, met celebrity tattooist Sam Hyde, it was lust at first sight - and a shock for Dylan, who'd never fallen for a guy before. After four weeks apart from each other, Sam's arrival in New York to watch Dylan playing is a sexual explosion waiting to happen... and a promise that their fledgling relationship might turn into something a lot more.

Advisory: This short but scorching story (3000 words) features graphic descriptions of oral and anal sex between two insanely hot guys. Not suitable for under-18s.

Extract

The encore was only two songs, but it seemed to last an hour to Dylan. As soon as the last notes began to fade away, as the crowd roared, Dylan tore off his bass and raced backstage, where Sam was waiting for him. Sam's normally cool demeanor had been replaced by naked hunger, and as he wrapped his arms around Dylan, enveloping him in a tight, hard-muscled embrace, Dylan felt his hot breath on his ear, drank in his musky smell, and it was almost enough to make him come in his jeans as the pair of them stood there, blocking the passageway between stage and dressing room.

"Get a room, guys," muttered Taylor, shoving past them, but his tone wasn't unfriendly. More than anyone, he'd been surprised when Dylan fell so hard for a guy, but he had to admit they looked great together. If anything, Taylor nursed a mild regret that he hadn't fucked Sam first, but he wouldn't have done anything now that would hurt Dylan, his high-school buddy and oldest friend.

Dylan tugged Sam away, suddenly fearing Taylor would want to talk to Sam about his tatt and take him away from him, but Sam was so focused on him, stroking his face and parting his lips in the hot, sweet kiss he had anticipated for so long, that he needn't have worried.

"Wow, is the temperature in here rising or is it just me?"

Fay, Mudride's manager, fanned herself ostentatiously, grinning at them.

"Dylan, take him away before everyone in the room comes in their pants watching you. You're making the ice in the beer fridge melt."

Dylan pulled Sam in the direction of the dressing room bathroom, desperate for him, unable to wait. He was so horny, he felt like his balls were going to explode.

Instead, Sam caught his wrist, tracing a line up the inside of Dylan's elbow, driving him crazy with the touch of his rough forefinger.

"Not here," he murmured. "Let's go back to the room. We've waited this long. Did you do what I asked you to?"

Dylan nodded mutely. Wanting Sam so fucking badly for a whole week and not being able to do anything about it had been the worst torture ever. The three weeks before had been bad enough, when he could at least make himself come every time he spoke to Sam on the phone, hell, every time he even thought about the guy. But Sam's insistence that he kept his hands off his dick for a whole week, so they could save themselves for each other, had been torment.

"Yeah," Dylan breathed. "I came close to giving in a load of times, though. Did you."

Sam nodded and the dark fire in his eyes gave Dylan no doubt about what would happen the moment they hit the hotel room, both primed to explode.