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Five Finger Death Punch	By : mmarc56 Category: Celebrities - Misc > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1552 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Five Finger Death Punch or any of its members, this story is a work of fiction, and I made no money writing it.

Chapter List
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Chapter Four: Great Talk

Chris answered the door when Ivan rung the bell and swept his arm out slowly in a gesture to invite him inside. The evening outside was warm and humid, but the inside of the bassist’s house harbored the warmth and hospitality of linen blankets fresh from the dryer. The change in the air between the outside and the inside felt strange on the singer’s uncovered arms, yet welcoming on his face, and once the door had shut them both inside, Ivan turned around to face the older man.

“So are we going to talk,” Chris asked, “or what?”

“Do you want to talk?” Ivan responded with the raise of an eyebrow.

The bassist dropped his head, tapped his foot, and then looked up at him and approached him. Grabbing the side of his head with both of his large hands, he made sure they were making eye contact when he said, “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

Ivan let himself be handled this way as he said, “Do something about it.”

Chris’s eyes sharpened and he ran his thumb across the singer’s lips before he made the decision to lean in and kiss him. There it was again: the warmth, the wetness, the pressure. More than anything, however, there was the intimacy: the unsaturated, unembellished, adult intimacy. Ivan felt his beard against his stubbly face once again as if it was the first time ever and was both in love with and repulsed by the way it scratched his jaw. Their tongues circled each other, got to know one another, and fought for dominance and space. He wanted more of the other man. He brought his hands to Chris’s face, his fingers running through his beard and over the border where it became his bald head, and he held him there in the kiss, not wanting the connection to be broken.

Chris was the first to break the kiss once again and he walked Ivan backwards, grabbing ahold of his collar, until he was against the wall by the front door. He pressed his body weight into him and pushed his mouth onto his again, claiming it with his tongue once more. Ivan slid his hands across his back and ran his fingertips roughly across his t-shirt as he fought against his weight holding him back in the submissive stance, but his efforts at resistance only serve to heighten the tension between them.

The bassist pushed his knee in between Ivan’s legs and pressed it against his crotch, which caused his dick to heat up and twitch. This arousal frightened him and he pushed back against the older man with his arms and pried open some space between them, allowing his crotch to breathe.

“You alright?” Chris asked, his voice heavy and concupiscent.

“What are you doing?” The younger man breathed.

“Do you not like it?”

He eyed him up and down and weighed the possible consequences of engaging in something inappropriate with him. Would it really be that big of a deal if they did something simply for the body? It wasn’t like it had to be personal or become a common ordeal. He raised his chin up and squinted at the other man. “What are we doing here?”

Chris’s eyes sunk down to peer at the singer’s crotch and his mustache twitched with a smile. “Are you turned on right now?” He glanced up at his astringent, icy blue eyes. Ivan nodded subtly. Chris stepped into him again and lightly moved him back against the wall. “Shall we do something about that?”

“If you think you got what it takes, big guy,” he whispered, his speech tenuous yet sultry.

Chris grabbed his face. “Don’t challenge me.”

They pressed their lips together and sucked on each other’s tongues before Ivan decided to be more daring and ran his tongue through Chris’s beard. The bassist made a soft noise and pulled back some, giving Ivan the upper hand and the chance to assert his dominance by kissing his rough, unshaven neck. He clawed his back and focused on putting the older man in his place until he was forced back into the wall and was being bitten on his own neck. He protested some, but his protests were covered by his pleasure – the pleasure that was heightened when Chris began rubbing their crotches together. Ivan could feel something very solid and quite large through the other man’s jeans and felt his own piece hardening and fighting against his zipper.

They frotted through the fabric of their pants and soon they had to stop kissing each other as they became too caught up in their heavy, moist breaths. They thrust their dicks together and pulled at one another’s bodies as they fought to control themselves under the craze-inducing pleasure of being humped by their once heterosexual partner and the feeling of this partner’s chest rubbing against their own.

Ivan felt himself unwillingly losing control; he didn’t want this to end and he certainly didn’t want Chris thinking he was some master of sex by making him cum first. He was losing it, however, grunting and swearing, and soon his semen was being pushed out his tip by a vehement contraction and he was throwing his head back with an animalistic groan as the thick, white liquid soaked his boxers. He fell apart in Chris’s arms and their thrusting ended as the bassist held onto him tighter.

“Fuck—” He suspended the curse with a shaky moan and then pressed his face into the older man’s neck and shoulder.

Chris pulled him away from the wall and shushed him softly as he held him close. After a few seconds of catching his breath, Ivan realized that the other man hadn’t finished and he raised his head up to ask, “Are you done?”

“Not yet.”

“Here,” he said in a barely audible sigh. He grabbed ahold of his solid erection through his jeans and began rubbing it roughly in his large hand. Chris sputtered softly as Ivan worked to make him orgasm, and after a few jerks of his abdomen he began moaning loudly and then cursed upon his apparent release. Ivan ceased his movements and squeezed his denim-covered tip in his palm, and felt the juicy wetness of his cum bleed through the thick fabric.

Then there was the long silence in which the two men did nothing but hold on to each other and the intimacy between them as they refused to look one another in the eyes. Even once the embrace was broken it still took several more long minutes of standing around before they cautiously glanced at each other’s faces. There was a sort of shameless shame floating between them now, and Ivan knew in his mind that despite what had just taken place between the two of them, he would still kiss his mustache-covered mouth and rub his face against his beard of dreadlocks.

Chris inhaled deeply through his nose and then asked gently, “What now?”

Ivan coughed and then smiled before saying, “Well, the way I see it, we can act like men and I can go home now with the mess in my underwear, or we can act like lovebirds and cuddle together. What do you wanna do?”

Chris smiled and rubbed his beard as he watched the floor. “I’ve gotta admit, cuddling sounds nice, but I ain’t gonna push it. This is,” he chuckled, “weird enough as is.”

“I agree, so, um,” Ivan rubbed his goatee, “I think I’m gonna head home now, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” the bassist said as he shook his head slowly.

Ivan stepped towards him. “Great talk,” he commented with a quick, silly flinch in his expression. He then leaned in, pecked Chris on the mouth, and turned for the door. “You better not kiss and tell if you know what’s good for you,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the door.

“I won’t,” the older man promised.
“Good boy.” Ivan stepped over the threshold, shut the door behind him, and walked himself to his car. There was a new feeling of confidence in him now, yet it was spotted with the diaphanous stain of disgracefulness and ambivalence.
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Five Finger Death Punch