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Thom/Beck	By : VinylTap Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Radiohead Views: 2950 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Beck or any of the members of Radiohead. This story is a work of fiction, and I make no money or profit from it.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Jonny was bargaining with Beck now. He was mortified, nervous in a way that wasn’t pleasant at all— but this was very important, and he endured his emotions despite it. That Thom would hear at least some of what they said was inevitable, there was no way to discuss it without him hearing, or at least without him knowing it mattered to Jonny that Thom didn’t hear— but it was important, Jonny was aware a chance like this may never come again.
“Let me do it first,” he whispered, having pulled Beck a few feet aside, both now convening with their backs to Thom, Jonny looking over Beck’s shoulder now and again to see if he were listening. “I’d really like to, you’d already—”
You’d already slept with him before I got to, Jonny couldn’t bring himself to say it outright— but he hadn’t forgot how Beck had said, he fucked me. With nothing like the appreciation something like that warranted—
Thom might regret it tomorrow, so Jonny had to do it now, before Thom changed his mind. Then things might be weird between them, or Colin might get sore, or Thom and Colin might argue— but it all would be trivial in comparison with what it would be to sleep with Thom, irreversibly, and Thom had actually wanted it now, it was a fragile thing and Jonny would never forgive himself if he’d let it go to waste—
Jonny remembered how, back in their school days, he came to know the exact time Thom would come over on weekends. Jonny would hang out with Colin ahead of time, strategically, so the three of them could talk when Thom came; once Colin had let him come along to Thom’s, together with Ed and Phil, the evening remained even now a flickering fantasy of pleasant anticipation. Nothing had ever come of the times Jonny waited for Thom to arrive, but even now that he’d thought back on it, even much later in life, he’d still feel the inward thrill of what it was to know Thom would be over soon.
Act natural. Like you don’t even care.
Tonight, Thom actually wanted it, it had to happen tonight.
“Yeah, okay,” Beck said, Jonny could go ahead; Beck wanted to see what it was like, he didn’t like having to ask; he wasn’t going to compete with Jonny for first.
Let’s make it good for him. Let’s make it good so he doesn’t change his mind.
Did Thom want dirty? There was something to be said of creativity and perversion, maybe it took an artist to really know—
Jonny’s eyes met Thom’s when he glanced at him, back still faced the other way; he and Beck slowly turned around, still whispering, Thom couldn’t hear; Jonny was explaining something; dirty, what’s dirty…?
“This is dirty,” Beck mouthed, eyes blue and translucent when he looked uncertainly at Thom; “Play along.” He murmured to Jonny, just barely a whisper, it didn’t take actual experience at this sort of thing to know—
Jonny wasn’t ready; his gaze shot down straight away when Beck’s fingers came on his belt, he flinched, both hands slapping down on Beck’s. He stared down in pure shock, eyes big and dark, and Beck hissed through his teeth, “Play along, damn it.”
Jonny could see his own abdomen stained with smudges of purple and blue, the scribbles from before now an incoherent mess; they continued down beneath the edge of his trousers, where he’d pulled them down earlier for Beck and Thom to write on his hip. It occurred to him they really had Thom’s attention now, he observed quietly, visibly amused.
“What are you gonna do?” Jonny whispered, and Beck leaned in partway, still watching Thom. “You said to give him dirty.” But at this point, Beck did it because he wanted to.
Jonny regarded him with suspicion. “Yeah,” he said, “All right.”
“All right.”
“All right.”
He drew his hands tentatively away in permission, couldn’t help glancing at Thom while Beck’s hands came on him, the low clink and slide of metal at his belt; he waited for Thom to say something, but Thom only stared, unusually quiet, well-behaved and subdued.
There were unsettling shivers through Jonny’s skin; he definitely had Thom’s attention.
There was his pulse, unnerving, act like you don’t even care—
Jonny’s hands trembled on Beck’s cheeks, Beck had just a little bit of stubble, he also wasn’t comfortable doing this; he appeared so much more innocent than he really were when he glanced back at Jonny, right, just do it—
They kissed very slowly, experimentally, they could feel each other tremble; Beck’s hands remained somewhere on the fly of Jonny’s trousers, where once he was partway to getting them undone.
“Is this dirty,” Jonny mouthed, the words humid between them, his eyelashes fluttered, long and dark; “This is,” Beck said, head tilting down, he watched his hands at work. They both flushed; Jonny became very aware of the cool in the room on his skin, the contrast of human warmth when Beck’s hands came on his member—
Jonny’s eyes fluttered with innocent understanding; his mouth went open partway but without any words; of course, it felt nice, but Jonny didn’t like being watched. He didn’t like feeling vulnerable. His hands went to Beck’s trousers so that he wouldn’t be the only one, so it would be equal, so he’d have some control—
They were partway through wrestling each other out of their jeans when Thom finally spoke.
“Fucking hell, can I play, too?”
There came the sound of lips breaking contact, Jonny and Beck emerged out of breath, very embarrassed; this is for you, Jonny nearly said, and Beck murmured something about not being gay.
The silence that followed was interrupted by the metallic slide of a latch, Beck’s jeans barely stayed up with his belt undone; “Yeah, you can play,” he said hoarsely.
“Please don’t stop,” Thom said, “you’re not done undressing each other.”
As on impulse, Jonny and Beck turned to regard each other’s jeans, both reluctant, both meaning to say something but uncertain as to what.
Jonny was very proper about doing this, too— but Thom made no objection, he touched himself slowly while watching Jonny’s long fingers at work, attentive, like when he tuned his guitar; Beck appeared somehow tense, but allowed it, hands helpless somewhere midair. He smiled sheepishly at Jonny when he pulled his jeans down, then laughed while stepping out of his trousers.
Thom could see there were small words exchanged between them, they shared the mutual burden of awkward embarrassment, grinning shyly, could you please move your hand, that’s it—
Both were so sweetly careful— so afraid to offend one another by succumbing too blindly to Thom’s perverse request. Once they’d finally got each other naked, they tried to look anywhere but at each other, fighting to appear casual without much success; Jonny glanced pleading at Thom, painfully uncomfortable about what to do.
Thom was now certain this was a good idea, even if they did both get a go at him. He didn’t have to say anything; what he wanted to see was obvious. He waited for them to do it, like he had all the patience in the world.
After enough time had passed, they surrendered to the knowledge that they knew it, too—they fingered each other’s hands, lightly, too afraid to touch, turning to look at each other blindly; Jonny’s eyes darted from Beck to Thom and back, he could feel the brushing contact of lips, Beck’s eyes were blue, it was a color of which Jonny was certain—
They slowly closed the distance between their bodies, the unmistakable hardness of sex having both of them flush, too polite with each other but helpless against what was human and real—
Beck’s eyelashes fluttered, mouth hot on Jonny’s, expiration inaudible;
“Oh—”
Jonny breathed, is that what that’s like, they pressed tentatively against each other, entirely innocent—
Jonny asked, Is this dirty…?
“No,” Beck said, even though their hips pressed together hard, even though he’d got Jonny’s abdomen wet, it wasn’t dirty after all.
What happened after that, Thom watched quietly, touching himself while they kissed; they laughed into each other, murmuring apologies and little questions, is this all right, and does this hurt, and that okay—
It was charming, they were boyish and curious, somehow unafraid, finally touching each other outright, deliberately, their hands wet on each other’s flesh—
“What about Thom,” Jonny asked, breathy and vulnerable, fighting visibly from succumbing to Beck’s hand. Beck turned partway, hair swinging. He smiled at Thom sheepishly, “Yeah, come on, dude.”
(On to chapter 15)
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Thom/Beck