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You betcha!	By : luna65 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pink Floyd Views: 820 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Pink Floyd. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-You betcha!
- 1
To engage in a bit of back scuttle in the middle of the afternoon was out of the ordinary, but Roger and David were bored in the illimitable hours before soundcheck. It was too early to drink or toke and too late to sleep.

They had bathed and dressed and sat staring at the television as Roger clicked through every available channel twice. They were fortunate enough to have found a PBS affiliate which showed Monty Python episodes at night, but their daytime programming was as bad as BBC Two for uninteresting selections, though David did make Roger pause when he spied the indomitable Julia Child hacking apart a chicken.

“Wait, I want to see what she does with it,” he said.

“Oh for the love of –“ Roger turned off the television in disgust and David shoved him hard, nearly sending him off the side of the bed.

”Wanker, why d’ya have to do that?!”

“If you want to learn to cook do it on your own time!”

“Christ, isn’t it time to go yet?” David wailed, looking at the clock. “I’m going back to my room then if you’re going to be a bastard.”

“Wait,” Roger said. He was enjoying having David to himself – he knew as soon as they went to the venue they’d have no privacy for the rest of the night. “Fancy a wager?”

David huffed. “You certainly would. For what?”

“Any guitar you want from Manny’s. Go out there –“ he indicated, pointing to the balcony, “and badger people with obscenities for five minutes. American obscenities, so they understand.”

“What else is there besides ‘fucking?’”

“You have to say ‘shit,’” he answered, putting an emphasis on the ‘t’ for clarity. “And ‘goddamn,’ and ‘motherfucker,’ and –“

“I get the gist of it, thanks ever so,” David interjected.

Roger leaned back against the headboard and put his hands behind his head. “So, is a Perse boy up to the task of being a filthy-mouthed prat?”

“Sod off, as if you were such a rebel in grammar school.”

“More than you, I imagine. Are we on?”

“It’s bloody freezing out there! And I can get any guitar I want from Manny’s on my own.”

“You’d never turn down the chance to get another, and did I mention you’d have to be starkers?”

“Are you fucking mental?!”

“Now you’ve got the hang of it!”

David tried to meet Roger’s challenging stare with one of withering dismissal, but truth be told he was curious about whether he could actually pull it off. The majority of the really outrageous wagers were normally carried out by the crew, and David suspected Roger just wanted another chance to see him naked.

“Different terms,” he said, and concurrently with the phrase in his mouth the one in his head was oh bloody hell.

“What then?”

“You have to be my slave. For a week.”

Roger laughed derisively. “I think not! I have far too much self-respect to be your butler.”

“No Rog, my slave,” David retorted, drawing out the last with an obscene emphasis. “My sexual slave.”

“You bloody pervert!”

“If I have to stand out there with my dick in the wind it might as well be for something interesting.”

“You’re the one who’s lost the plot.”

“Oh, so you’re not sporting now, hmm? I’ll even shake my arse for ya, I know how you like that.”

David had him now, Roger exhibited that distinctly dazed look he got whenever he was lusting after his guitar player, who then put his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “C’mon then Georgie, if I chicken out I’ll buy you whatever you want from Manny’s.”

“Oh no you don’t – same terms, Mr. Gilmour.” Roger folded his arms across his chest.

“Fine, it’s near enough the way you treat me any road.”

David pulled off his trainers and slid from the bed, standing before Roger and shedding his clothes with the flirty skill of the most expert burlesque artist. Roger whistled and clapped, and David threw his shirt at him. He walked over to the balcony door and tensed himself, then unlocked and slid it open. They both flinched at the artic blast which swept into the room, but Roger could swear he saw David turn completely pale. He carefully stepped out onto the cold concrete.

“Sod this for a lark!” David exclaimed. He then looked at the barrier. “How’s anyone going to see me?”

Roger fetched the desk chair. “Here, try standing on this.” He shivered violently. “It is freezing, isn’t it?”

“So you noticed then?” David said wryly as he put the chair in the center of the space and climbed up onto it.

“Well you’ve got more insulation than I do, after all.”

“Shut yer bleedin’ gob.”

“No you prat, I said American.”

“Fuck off!” David shouted back.

“That’s better.”

“If you leave me out here for more than five minutes I will break every bone in your right hand. You won’t play, you won’t eat, and you certainly won’t wank.”

“I’m right here, trust me I’ll be counting every second.”

“Hey you fuckers, what are you fucking doing then?”

Roger kept his eyes on his watch, occasionally snickering at some of the things which came out of David’s mouth.

“Hey arsehole!”

“No, they say ‘asshole,’ Dave.”

“Fuck you!” he shouted at Roger.

“Yelling at me doesn’t count, twit.”

“Hello bitch! Yeah, I’m talking to you! Would you like to fuck me, then? No? Well fuck you anyway!”

“Goddamn you’re ugly! Yeah you heard me! What are you going to fucking do then, eh?”

“Good lord, David, don’t start a riot!”

“Oh now you tell me!”

“You fucking like what you see then, eh? How ‘bout this?!”

David carefully turned around and shook his bare ass at the overcast Buffalo landscape.

“Don’t know ‘bout them, but I like it very much.”

David stuck his tongue out at Roger.

“Not now, darling, you’ve still got two minutes to go.”

Once the second hand blessedly swept twelve for the last time Roger ran back inside, closely followed by his naked bandmate who slammed the door shut behind him.

“Oh bleedin’ Christ I’m an icicle!” David exclaimed. Roger grabbed the extra blanket from the closet and shook it out, looking amused.

“Not quite. Certain things don’t stand up to the cold, I see.”

He wrapped the blanket around David, who managed to look pissed and triumphant at the same time.

“Fuck. You. I won, and I own you now, Georgie.”

“Calling me that is not part of the wager.”

“You will do anything I ask for the next week.”

“Of a sexual nature, and that is it.”

“Oh that will be enough, believe you me.”

They were startled by a particularly loud knock at the door.

“Shite, d’ya think it’s the cops?” David whispered.

Roger shrugged, confused and slightly frightened.

“Rog?” Peter’s voice called from beyond the door. “Is Dave in there with you?”

Roger clamped a hand over David’s mouth and two sets of widened and annoyed blue eyes emoted in the silence.

“No,” he responded. “I’ll look for him, you go ahead.”

“Well hurry, the desk clerk said it was going to snow this afternoon, we should get to the hall before the going gets too rough.”

“Alright then.”

“Hey,” their road manager continued, chuckling. “Did you hear? There was some punter on this side being a right nuisance just now. They said he was waving his bits at old ladies and such.”

David squirmed and Roger pushed him against the wall, tightening his hold. They both winced at the accompanying thud.

“Oh really? I’d no idea.”

“You all right in there?”

“Yeah. Go on then.”

“Alright.”

They remained (literally) frozen till hearing a faint ‘ping’ which indicated the elevator had been called. Roger let go of David and they burst out laughing.

“D’ya think anyone recognized you?” Roger asked, gasping between giggles.

“Hopefully they were too distracted to look at my face,” David cracked.

“Mmm I dunno,” Roger said, putting his fingers under David’s chin. “That face is rather distracting.”

“C’mon then, they’re waiting on us. There’s plenty of time to use you later.”

“But wait! Oh master,” Roger intoned, getting on his knees and bowing his head. “Command me.”

He then looked up and thought the thoroughly beautiful and licentious smile on that luscious mouth made it a wager worth losing after all.
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You betcha!