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Giddy	By : luna65 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Pink Floyd Views: 3742 -:- 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-Giddy
- 1
They were giddy: punch-drunk from lack of sleep, constant travel, and the gradual dissolve of boundaries; their discrete personalities seeping into one another, becoming uppermost in each other’s thoughts. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the back of the van, as David read aloud from Le Monde, translating for Roger, their heads practically touching: one a shade of brownish-blond which changed according to the season, it was currently closer to golden syrup than to chocolate, unlike the other mane comprising a deep shining brown which suited his overall temperament, no matter the time of year. They each had circles under their sleepy eyes, and would yawn widely and loudly every few minutes between sips of a shared cup of tea.

Rick, in the seat ahead with Nick per usual, was immediately drawn to that particular detail of their interaction. He knew as well as his own name that they didn’t take their tea the same at all and if it was the way David preferred then Roger must feel slightly sick from all the extra sugar. And it wasn’t necessary: they were no longer in such dire financial straits requiring the cutting of such corners. . .or cups.

No, he thought, they want to share everything, don’t they?

He immediately felt astoundingly guilty – not for the thought – but for a seeming intrusion upon their privacy. There was a bubble which existed around Roger and David alone even as the four of them spent every waking hour in entirely-too-close proximity.

“Hungry,” he heard David murmur to Roger. He held the cup to his lips but did not drink. Their stares were locked tighter than a chastity belt, the absolute lack of distance accentuated by such an act.

“Are you?” Roger replied, his voice at the same low volume, but the question was not the obvious one.

Rick had become a master of the sidelong glance, he could see their respective knees pressed completely together, and as David handed Roger the cup their fingers brushed, ever so slowly.

“Read me something else,” Roger urged.

“Do they have comics?” David pondered, paging forward.

Rick took a minute breath, his eyes flickering to Nick who was sleeping - no doubt dreaming of driving in Le Mans - completely oblivious to everything. Or at least better at ignoring whatever disturbed him. Sometimes Rick felt like a radio antenna, receiving any and all nuances of interaction. Knew what Roger really meant with a seemingly teasing gibe, knew what David really meant when he casually responded to the barb with an equally cutting observation. Nick saw their battles as mere sport, a sort of obligatory posturing, something inherently male and British. The rapier of English wit thrust forward and drawn back, in endless feint. But whereas Nick noticed nothing strange, Rick heard purrs of desire in sarcastic tones, echoes of raw need in angry exchanges. The frustration involved in the endless clash of two indomitable wills having nothing to do with the apparent point of diversion.

When one has to subdue a grand passion for the purposes of secrecy, that passion does not go gently into the good night, oh no. It rumbles and roars beneath everything else which is expressed, in every form.

A giggle disturbed the relative silence, and Rick knew once more from thorough familiarity that it was David. He had been pretending to read his own paper, it was easy enough to slightly shift and observe his bandmates again. The two were smirking at one another, their expressions quickly evolved into smiles and then progressed to laughter. There was no apparent reason for the hilarity, it did not have any cause save their own staring. But their stares, again, the complete and utter longing they communicated to one another was plain as day to Rick.

Or, in point of fact, the only true reason for their actions was joy. A joy which pealed clear as the loudest of bells in the sounds of their giddy laughter.

And because Rick was given to more realistic musings, he tortured himself with considerations of what would happen when it was gone, as joy never endured no matter how tightly one tried to hold on to its’ brightly-colored form.

The lads had begged Chris to stop at a caf, grousing about being hungry, and their assistant road manager figured there was enough time in the schedule, but warned that they needed to take less than an hour. Roger and David hurriedly stated their requests to him then made for the lav at a run.

“Can’t even take turns for a piss, those tosspots,” Chris grumbled as he heaved himself out of the drivers’ seat.

Rick merely shook his head in a very subtle gesture as he nudged Nick awake.

The lavatory was blessedly empty and the two tumbled into the room, as Roger put on the latch with fumbling fingers. He then pulled David to him, leaning against the locked door and giving him a hungry sloppy kiss.

“Ah Rog,” David gasped, “really have to piss, I swear!”

“All right, all right,” Roger mock-grumbled, letting go of his bandmate who then walked over to the toilet on the other side of the sink, freeing a most uncomfortable cock from his trousers. Roger stood directly behind him, and David wasn’t embarrassed at the proximity.

“Mmmm,” Roger murmured, his hands caressing David’s arse and coming around to his crotch, “do hurry, lover.” He began sucking on David’s neck.

“Y’gonna make me piss the floor, twit,” David teased, taking aim with a slightly wider stance before the bowl.

“Shall I help you?” Roger cooed in David’s ear, moving his right hand underneath David’s prick. David moaned softly but they stood there watching the process quietly, as if they did it that way all the time. Once David had finished he made to zip up his trousers, but Roger pushed him in the corner, keeping a hand on David’s cock.

“Not so fast, slut,” he said, grinning. The two kissed with a desperate passion born of being in close quarters for hours with no outlet for their specific feelings.

“Don’t have to wee?” David asked in the breaths between.

“Y’know I can’t really drink your tea, it’s far too sweet.”

“Then why didn’t you get your own?”

“I’d rather share. I like the taste of you on the cup.”

“Mmm.” A very long kiss in which David felt like Roger was attempting to lick his tonsils. “Like it much better this way.”

Hands wove through hair, pulling because caressing did not possess the same passionate emphasis. They were mad for one another, and David had unbuttoned the front of Roger’s trousers as well, they stroked each other and tried to keep quiet.

“Ah Dave, I wish you were plugging me right now,” Roger hissed, as David worked him over all too well. He leaned into David and put his mouth against his lover’s shoulder.

“Y’want it every hour, don’t you slut?”

“Every fucking minute,” he gasped, then spurted into David’s hand with a shudder.

The lavatory door shuddered with the force of someone knocking.

“You boys all right in there?” Nick asked on the other side.

“We need to shit,” David called out, and clamped one hand over Roger’s mouth. He sucked on the fingers of the other with a predatory look which made Roger feel as though he’d gone completely liquid inside.

“Well brekkie will be up soon, hurry along!”

When David removed his hand Roger let out one of his infamous cackles.

“I’ll bet they’ll wonder why there’s no stink.”

“Well everyone knows you don’t think your shit stinks.”

Roger gave David a playfully rough shove against the wall. “Oh you’d better shut it prat, or you’ll be sorry.”

“Yeah? You can’t beat the spirit out of me, Georgie.”

“I can try.”

“I’d settle for you sucking it out of me.”

“Oh wouldn’t you just. But you’ve a saucy tongue, slut, dunno if you deserve such special attention.”

“Quid pro quo, prat. Do something, ‘cause I’m fit to burst and our food is getting cold.”

Roger sank to his knees and licked David’s cock all over, relishing that specific saltiness of David’s arousal, tonguing the slit and sucking the glans hard. David groaned against his fist and took very little time to reach the same point of release, deeply satisfied at the thought of Roger so in heat that he swallowed his come eagerly, almost greedily.

“Ah,” David sighed, shivering, “there’s nothing so good as my cock in your mouth, lover.”

Roger wiped his mouth, rising to his feet and making sure his clothing was in order. “Y’mean it’s even better than your cock in my arse?”

“Hmm, I s’pose I’ll have to reconsider later, won’t I?”

“Yes, we’ll have to weigh the evidence.”

They kissed one last time, secretly thrilled to taste themselves as their tongues slid together.

David made the same check of his appearance, then the two washed their hands and emerged slightly dazed into the light and noise of the café, looking around for the others. Nick waved to them from a booth and they made their way down the aisle. When they were seated across from one another they wove their legs together, craving touch even now, in the aftermath of their momentary intimacy.

“Oh wait,” Nick said, looking at their plates, “you had the one without bacon, Rog.”

“S’alright,” Roger said, stopping Nick from performing a switch. David reached across to take a strip, but Roger snatched it off the plate and teasingly held it up above David’s head.

“Speak, boy!” he commanded with a grin.

David began barking and they all laughed, save Rick, who merely smirked.

But Roger was not forthcoming with the reward.

“C’mon Rog,” David whined. “I did me trick.”

Roger opened his mouth to indicate that David should do the same. Then he fed the strip of bacon to David slowly. Nick was so busy eating that he didn’t notice, but Rick was staring at his plate because he knew he couldn’t stare at anything else and not be altogether too obvious about it.

“Good boy,” Roger whispered, then turned his attention to his eggs. A minute or so of silence passed then David began snickering. Within seconds Roger was doing it as well, and in yet another few seconds they were both laughing and attempting not to choke on their food.

“What’s the joke?” Nick asked, but was only answered with more laughter. Roger and David sat back and stared at once another, continuing to giggle.

“You have to let us in on the joke sometime,” their drummer insisted, ever-patient but just a little envious, perhaps, of his bandmates’ evident easy bond.

“I doubt they ever will,” Rick quipped before taking a bite of baked beans.
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Giddy