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Thom/Beck - Part 2	By : VinylTap Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Radiohead Views: 1975 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Beck or any of the members of Radiohead, Sonic Youth, or REM. This story is a work of fiction, and I make no money or profit from it.

Chapter List
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Some time passed before either Channing or Justin dared to move; they remained frozen, both uncertain how to act now that they’d been discovered. Justin spoke first; he said, Sorry, though it wasn’t particularly satisfying; funny how guilt came not with what they’d done in secret, but with when it became real.
Thom was nice enough about it; secured mostly helpless on his belly beneath Beck, he grinned amicably at the others, like it was nice to have company. “Blimey, were you lot there all along?” he asked, like he couldn’t decide between amused and offended. He rubbed his eyes, like all this was too much.
Dear Doctor Who, Channing began mentally composing that night’s journal entry, a lot has happened in the past couple of days, where to begin…? As it were, though, he still was staring, the blood gone from his face; he was smiling despite himself.
“Right, sorry, yeah…”
We were just passing through. We didn’t see you guys there. They’d been caught head-on, there was no excuse for this, and that was very embarrassing. There was no way in hell Chan would just casually say, Yeah, sure, no problem— just hang on a sec and we’ll go grab you some lotion.
That sounded more profane than staring actually was.
Did any of them even bring lotion…? Shampoo was better for this, anyway.
Justin had half a mind to stride two yards over and grab Beck by the jaw, he’d not wanted to fuck him this bad in ages; but here was something he wasn’t gonna ruin for his friend.
“Right, we’ll finish apologizing later. Pretend we didn’t— whatever, fuck it,” Justin said, already beginning to pull Chan out of the room.
“Yo, wait,” Beck called, his hair flipped as he motioned to Justin in the darkness. If you knew him well enough, you could tell his voice broke just a little, like he was humiliated but fighting for calm. For real, like I care…?
Justin came toward him with visible hesitance, like he was all too aware what he was moving toward, but Beck pulled him in physically when he could get hold of his arm.
“No, man—”
Justin started, and he tried to get away when Beck seized his mouth, but Beck managed to kiss him before he let go. “It’s cool,” he said, “this dude banged me with his guitarist right there.”
Thom flushed entirely at that; there was some half-formed protest lodged in his throat he couldn’t quite get out, and finally he scrambled for words. “Oi, mate, it wasn’t like that—”
“Right there,” Beck repeated, and he let Justin go but still held on to his wrist. He tilted his head down toward Thom and helpfully explained, “Justin’s my bassist, so like, you see how that works out.” It was meant as a direct jab at Thom, for his earlier comment about being marked by every act in the show.
Now Thom was smiling with visible defeat, the point had been made. Justin wasn’t really up for putting Thom Yorke in his place, though, and he wasn’t exactly up to watching all this transpire, either— but fuck all if he wasn’t gonna screw Beck senseness the moment this was over.
“Oh, and that’s my brother,” Beck said absently as he motioned toward Channing, “Dude, get lost, why are you even here...?”
“Oh,” Thom said simply in a moment of clarity, “your brother who marked you.”
Channing had oh shit written all over his face, totally smiling, it pissed Beck off even more.
“Dude, fuck you,” Beck said to Thom, “What about all the stuff with your, with, when I was like, right there…”
He felt bad bringing it up, really— not because Thom didn’t deserve it, because he certainly did— but because the person toward whom all that really was unfair was Jonny. Back at that time, Thom and Beck had only been messing around, but for Jonny it wasn’t like that— and maybe the person who shouldn’t have been there was Beck.
Funny, then, how it turned out last year had meant so much. Funny how important it was that they found one another again. It’s just that, so early on, you didn’t think stuff would matter—
—so did it, really?
“Man, come on,” Justin’s voice came cerebral and composed, he tugged Channing by the arm and murmured briefly to Beck about whether he really was serious about the lotion bit.
“Yeah,” Beck said, “Would you mind?”
He was trying to calm down, now that he’d got all upset. After Justin and Chan had left, he remained dumbly sat over Thom’s waist, naked, arms crossed over his chest from the cold. Acting like he didn’t feel totally stupid, like this all was totally chill. Thom ran one hand through his hair, then two, then stretched out his arms. Then placed his hands on Beck’s thighs and began drumming absently, until Beck got his hands atop his.
“Stop that.”
“Sorry.”
Then, a few seconds after that, “You’re gonna stop my circulation that way.”
“Yeah, all right.” Beck slowly maneuvered his legs over Thom and over the side of the couch, so that he could sit up. They settled next to each other on the cushions, Thom turned his head at the sound of feet trotting closer. Chan entered the room, ever glad to oblige, shampoo bottle in hand.
“Here, this works better,” he said helpfully, and Beck reached for it with visible bemusement. “Whatever, fine,” he said.
“Hey, did you really do that stuff with Thurston Moore?” Channing asked, helping himself to a nice, long, slow look at Thom, and now Beck reached out one leg to kick him. “Just get lost already...”
When finally Chan had left, Beck sank slowly into the cushions, bottle forgotten in hand. Thom chuckled beside him like this was all well good.
“You’re right,” he said without being prompted, “totally none of my business.”
Beck hadn’t actually told him it wasn’t, but he may as well have. “Dude, don’t act like you’re somehow morally above me,” he said, “who are you to judge, last year—”
“Yeah, all right. Not meant to judge, really.”
“Before that, I’d never even—”
But he didn’t really wanna tell Thom that bit, either. Before you, I never even did stuff like that. And it was so beautiful, and so terrible all the while, and no one should know they mattered so much, undeservingly.
“It’s all right, mate,” Thom said as he took the container and turned it lightly around, “I shagged my bassist, too.”
Beck stared incredulously, it was such a brazen thing to say;
Thom went on, “No, really. But we’ve been best mates since forever—”
“Oh, well, that explains it.”
Thom laughed; it had come out all wrong; he scratched the back of his neck. “Was trying to make a joke.”
“Right.”
“I did, though, really. Why am I telling you this?”
“Fucked if I know.”
“What I mean is— I’m not pretending like I was morally above you—”
“Obviously not…”
Thom was about to say something more, but thought better of it. They remained mutely at each other’s side, the both of them thinking, you’ve not made me very happy. Both curiously thrilled to be in each other’s presence regardless.
They didn’t really know each other, did they; and both wished they were at liberty to tell. You just meet someone, you know, and you end up liking them without ever meaning to.
“Seeing you on stage today,” Thom said, “I’ve wondered how I’d not fucked you since then."
“Dude, stop talking like that, I’m not—”
“No, really—” Thom said, he turned his head sideward, both knees bent up on the couch. “You were brilliant.”
Beck remained quiet, he regarded Thom out the corner of his eye. It still hadn’t really sunk in, the sort of reaction they’d got that afternoon. You play gigs and people wanna bang the dude on guitar, but this was something else altogether.
“You wanna fuck me. For my music,” he said.
“Everyone out there wanted to.”
Beck flushed. His voice came somehow strained when he said, “And then you remembered that, one time, you got to, and so now—”
“Mate, you’re making it sound like—”
“Guess they really did whore me out after all.”
Silence; they’d been reduced to nothing but naked as they eyed one another in the dark.
“No, you did that on your own.”
Thom had his hand on Beck’s chin. Then it was innocence again, yeah, let’s play together; how many people would like to see that—
But, from the get-go this was something they did for no one but each other. They were bound to wind up like this.
Low scrape of dry leaves whirling past the ramp by the door. Branches swaying, crickets somewhere softly in the great outdoors this place was before the festival. Beck’s hand gentle on Thom’s cheek, like they’d decided to be friends after all, comforting as he coaxed him forth, Thom with Beck's cock in his mouth.
“You think you could get it in farther?” Beck’s voice was all gentleness and compassion, “That’s it, I knew you could.”
He got one finger just at Thom’s lip, carefully tugging it down, the fluid glistening out the corner of Thom’s mouth and onto the digit, “You know I’m gonna do it to you after this,” Beck said. He moved out slowly, thoughtfully observing, Thom reached after his member when he pulled out.
“More?” Beck asked, and Thom didn’t reply, but Beck let him at it a bit longer, he carefully guided himself back past his lips; his hand was kind as he wiped at the fluid still on his chin.
All right, just a bit longer.
(On to Chapter 16)
- 14
- 15
- 16
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Thom/Beck - Part 2