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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
- 14
- 15
- 16
“You like watching us kiss?” Jonny asked, visibly shy. It came with a mixture of incredulity and amusement, like Jonny, himself, was somehow entertained by the prospect, like it was too absurd.
“It’s very nice,” Thom said, entirely unbothered. He smiled like mischief and sunshine again. He liked that they were all naked now, he was curiously watching, waiting for when he could finally touch. Jonny and Beck were now on about the logistics of it, debating on how to go about giving it to Thom. They were making hand gestures. Jonny’s voice came low, like that would make Thom hear him less.
Both he and Beck trailed off gradually when they saw Thom approach, little grin on his lips, eyebrows raised. “Reckon I could be in on the plans?” he asked, bouncing a little in place, “We ought to turn him around, bang him from behind, proper like—”
Jonny and Beck both stared, both on the verge of laughter.
“Bang him from behind...?” Beck sputtered, already snickering, “Do English people say that?”
He turned to Jonny for help, but Jonny shook his head, like he weren’t the proper source to consult.
“Why not draw a few diagrams, let’s do a brainstorm,” Thom went on, smiling big as he made to look around for a writing instrument.
***
Chris Martin was sat across his two mates from school, elbows on the table, hands up as he tried uselessly to convey to them the utter brilliance that was Thom Yorke.
“The man is a genius,” he explained. “Genius.”
It was no use. Unless they had listened to the entire record, they would never see for themselves. They probably thought Creep was all there was. They probably hadn’t picked up on the subtle nuances in Creep in the first place.
“Seriously, guys. You’ve got to have a listen.”
***
“They’ll be all right?” Nigel said in what sounded more like a question than words of reassurance. “Thom—knows—what he’s—” He made to scratch the back of one ear, eyes squinting uncomfortably. “—doing—?”
Colin leaned back helplessly on the couch, head rolled entirely back so he was staring at the ceiling, arms outstretched. Cigarette burning forgotten in-between his lips, the smoke issuing gradually up.
Several moments passed before he bothered himself to reply.
“No,” he said.
Nigel stared back, mouth locked in a small O. He nodded very slowly.
***
The fact that Thom didn’t know what he was doing hadn’t really stopped him before; he was interested in finding out. He listened good-naturedly to whatever instructions Jonny and Beck had exchanged, both growing accustomed to being disrobed with each other.
“We ought to have him lie down, like this—” Jonny explained, “—Thom, could you, ah, please lie down here—”
He was almost relieved for something to do, now bent on his knees on the floor and folding his own discarded shirt. He and Beck got Thom to lie with his head on the shirt, and Thom squinted at the bright light of the ceiling fixture; his forearm went over his eyes. “That’s bright,” he said.
“Sorry,” Beck smiled. He turned to Jonny. “We should blindfold him.”
Jonny, who was rolling Beck’s shirt from before, placed it very delicately over Thom’s eyes. “There.”
Thom reached for the shirt straight away. “Can't see like that.”
“You wanna see?” Beck asked, hand already partway to putting the shirt back over Thom’s eyes.
Thom propped himself up by the elbows, blindfold-shirt off.
“Dirty,” Jonny said.
Not five minutes later, Thom had them both lapping at his cock. He was very compassionate, really, asking them to do it so they wouldn’t have to endure the implication it might have been either of their ideas. They still were so polite with one another, licking each other’s lips clean, You’ve got some, just there—
“You like how he tastes, don’t you,” Beck whispered to Jonny. Under the fall of his hair, Jonny flushed, still sucking on Thom’s member, unable to speak. Beck wondered when he’d got so profane, what had got him so hot about watching Jonny do this from up close.
Yeah, he thought, I want him, too.
Portraits of lobbyists put together from cigarette butts, bargain bin license plates, shoehorn implosion, guitar and bass strings, you could lose yourself amongst all that; you got with a woman, you got with a guy, you got with two guys. Beck had found himself now and again reflecting dazed through the smokestack morning, uncertain what to make of the stuff that floated coolly in and out of his life as of its own accord.
Thom never took his eyes off them; he remained with his elbows propped, the carpet burning unpleasantly into his elbows and naked behind. Beck and Jonny seemed so hungry for him, he could barely keep proper attention to look because they had him so much at their mercy.
He could feel himself completely wet, could feel the liquid stream beyond where Beck had him in his mouth, down the length of his member and to the perineum beneath; there issued profanely wet sounds while he sucked on him, stroking with his hand perversely tight, you only learn that sort of thing from porn—
Here, Beck said, lips wet just at the tip, he held his fingers completely slick to Jonny’s mouth— then pressed them deliberately inside, forcibly, other hand at Jonny’s chin.
That’s it—
He could hear Jonny breathe through his nose while he sucked on his fingers, it got him hard. They were practically fighting to have Thom after that, Jonny barely broke contact before reaching for the member again, both had their fingers gracelessly tangled over each other.
They were a mess of digits and hair and breath, fighting to keep Thom’s hips down where he’d begun to struggle, having long since given up composure and rising to meet them without shame. He’d whispered profanities, called them very dirty things, said they were fucking beautiful, both—
Jonny didn’t want him to finish, because he really did like doing it. He’d never had Thom so completely attentive, so humbled and intimately his own; all the while, he wanted Thom to be impressed with how good he was, exactly as he’d wanted to impress him with guitar.
He didn’t expect it when he came all at once, there was Beck’s cry of pain when Thom gripped on him, though he was still mostly in Jonny’s mouth; the liquid came hot on Jonny’s lips, not making it totally in and getting on his face partway, and mostly his hand, and all over Thom’s cock; Jonny stared stunned, eyes big as though he were somehow offended, the fluid streamed slowly out his lower lip to his chin.
He still had his fingers on Thom’s spent anatomy, watched his chest rise and fall, the delicate outline of ribs visible with inspiration. Thom’s eyes were closed, brow still furrowed, hair feathery all over his face.
Beck still had one hand on Thom’s thigh. His gaze wandered from him to Jonny and back, then down to where his own fingers still held wetly onto Jonny’s hand. The translucent white glittered in slick rivulets from their hands to Thom’s inner thigh, deliciously obscene, Beck slid Jonny’s finger wetly down just to Thom’s entrance.
The digit slid readily in. Jonny’s only indication of shock was a very soft intake of breath, he was fully transfixed by Thom’s expression, by the way he trembled a little when Jonny’s finger went in.
“Yes—”
Thom mouthed, Beck had suspected he’d wanted this; Jonny’s gaze went momentarily to where Beck held his finger in place. There came low, wet sounds as the digit slid in the rest of the way. It was a curious sensation, Thom was very hot inside, it was pleasant to feel—
Jonny stroked him inside very gently, surprised by how nice it was to do; he’d put on hold the fact that his lips and chin still were dripping wet. Beck’s hand was still on his, holding him in place while he watched the digit move inside.
Thom regarded them innocently. He watched while Beck ran his tongue along Jonny’s face, licking the fluid, Jonny finally gave in when Beck began to lick at his mouth.
“Let’s do it to him,” Beck whispered.
Jonny regarded Thom with uninterrupted attention, despairing and broken without any words. He was more aware than ever of the power Thom had over him, Say it, just say it, I’ll do anything for you—
Thom cocked his head, childlike.
“You wanna fuck me, Jon-Jon?”
From somewhere in the building far off, there emanated distant sounds of incoherent chatter. The occasional clink of glass, opening and closing of a door; Jonny had his finger in Thom all the way, to the knuckle, hand tight on the curve of his behind.
“Thom, I’ve always wanted to fuck you.”
(On to chapter 16)
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Thom/Beck