
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/136752.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Hard_Core_Logo_(1996)
  Relationship:
      Joe_Dick/Billy_Tallent, Joe_Dick/Original_Male_Character
  Character:
      Joe_Dick, Billy_Tallent
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Character, Underage_Sex, Wall_Sex, Jealousy, Angry_Sex, Rough
      Sex, Denial
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-11-30 Words: 1194
****** Little Wannabe ******
by helens78
Summary
     When Billy gets jealous, Joe generally gets what he's been looking
     for. Now is no exception.
Notes
     Contains heavy petting involving a consenting teenager -- all other
     tags apply only to Joe/Billy.
Joe figured out pretty early on that it's not the girls that get to Billy, it's
the boys. And it's not just any guy, either--it's the little blond twinks.
Worse if they're musician wannabes. A lot worse if they say they can play, or
God help everybody around them, shred.
So when the cute little blond thing in the Dead Boys shirt shows up backstage
looking for an autograph or a blowjob or whatever the fuck he wants, Joe takes
a good look. He's got nice hard forearms and his fingernails are all clipped
down neat but ripped to shit, too, right ones all torn up and streaked and
spotted like he doesn't use a pick all the time.
"You play?" Joe asks.
"Kinda, yeah," the kid says, scratching at the back of his head. He's blushing
like a virgin and rocking back and forth on his heels like his hard-on just
won't--fucking--go--down--dammit, and Joe could just eat him up with a spoon.
He tells Joe what his name is, not that Joe gives a shit. Joe just slings an
arm around his shoulders and guides him backstage, where Pipe's talking to a
couple of groupies in short skirts and shiny boots and John is off in the
corner scribbling something--new lyrics, probably, Joe's gonna have to follow
up on that. Billy isn't back here yet. Good. Good, that's perfect.
Joe makes up an excuse to get the kid back into Billy's dressing room, and the
kid goes all wide-eyed and excited when he realizes he's looking at the guitar
case schlepped around on tour by the Billy Tallent. Joe flips it open and digs
into it for one of Billy's picks--"save your fingernails, kid, learn to use one
of those"--and the kid stares at it reverently, which is just too fucking much
for Joe.
"You want it?" Joe asks. He grabs the pick between his teeth and wiggles his
eyebrows, and the kid visibly gulps, flattening himself against the wall. Joe
comes in closer and closer and closer, and the kid takes the fucking pick
between his teeth, and then he's spitting it into his hand and Joe's got a
thigh wedged up between his legs, and oh, shit, the kid's a sloppy, wet kisser
who doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, but that's fine, that's fine, all he
has to do is last for two fucking minutes.
And there it is, right on cue--there's a hand in the back of Joe's shirt and he
gets yanked off the kid, and sure, Billy says, "No molesting the innocents,"
and introduces himself to the kid with a grin and a handshake, but his hand's
tight on the back of Joe's neck, and he doesn't let go even when he makes small
talk with the kid. He sends the kid down the hall to pick up Pipe's autograph
and John's autograph, and the minute the kid's out the door, Billy slams the
door shut and shoves Joe up against it.
"Are you fucking stupid? You're gonna get yourself arrested."
Joe rolls his eyes. "You don't look like a cop to me."
"He was what, fifteen, sixteen?"
Joe gives Billy his best shit-eating grin and says, "Hey, fifteen's a good age.
You remember." He widens his eyes, gets them all big and round and innocent,
and says, "Or maybe you don't. Fifteen was a while ago, huh?"
Billy grabs Joe by the arms and shoves him into the door. "I'm right here,
fucker--"
"Yeah?"
"--yeah, so just leave the kids alone, Jesus--"
"You're just afraid you're never gonna be that pretty again," Joe says,
grinning.
Billy reaches forward and grabs Joe's cock, and whoa, okay, straight to the
finish line this time, no more bitching around. But that's fine with Joe; he
reaches for Billy's belt, yanks on it until it opens, and then Billy's got one
hand in Joe's pants and Joe has both hands working on Billy's, shoving down his
jeans and his boxers and gripping his dick and his balls, and Billy leans in
and bites Joe right on the fucking ear as he works Joe's cock.
"Ow, hey--"
"Say you're sorry," Billy whispers, licking the curve of Joe's ear where he bit
down. "Say you're a sorry motherfucker who's not going to chase kids anymore--"
"God, I fuckin' love it when you get like this," Joe pants. He squeezes Billy's
balls until Billy groans, jerks his cock faster and faster while Billy thrusts
into his hands. "Say that shit again--what you wanted me to tell you, c'mon--"
"--sorry motherfucker," Billy growls, and then he slams his hips hard against
Joe's, wrecking Joe's rhythm, goddamnit, but it doesn't matter, because he's
coming, streaking the bottom of Joe's shirt with his jizz. Joe doesn't care; he
just smears some of it over his own palm and wraps his hand around Billy's,
making Billy grip him a little tighter, stroke him a little faster.
"Yeah," Joe pants, "yeah yeah yeah--oh, shit, fuck you, Billy, fuck you fuck
you fuck you--"
He thinks he got Billy in the jeans--he was trying to aim--but things kinda get
cloudy at certain strategic moments, so who knows. He slumps back against the
door and sighs, grinning like a loon.
Billy slaps him upside the head. "Dickwad," he mutters, pulling his jeans back
up.
"Cuntface."
"Assface."
Joe snickers. He knocks some of the come off his shirt as he gets dressed
again; mostly it's a lost cause. He could give a damn. "Shitkicker."
"Pederast."
"Oh, come on, I didn't even touch him." Joe rolls his eyes. "He was in here
for, like, two minutes."
"You had your tongue down his throat."
"Yeah, well." Joe reaches up and runs his fingers down the front of Billy's
neck. "Ask nice and I'll put something down your throat later."
Billy's quiet. He looks right into Joe's eyes, and Joe looks away first,
because fuck--the few secrets he's got from Billy aren't gonna last long under
that kind of scrutiny.
"Would you have fucked him if I hadn't come in?" Billy asks quietly, and Joe
blinks up at him, startled. Billy doesn't look pissed, doesn't look jealous
anymore, he looks--he looks kind of bruised, kind of sore, and Joe knows it's
not from anything he did to Billy's body.
"I was waiting for you the whole time," Joe says, and then quickly puts on his
best stupid voice and adds, "'cause I'm a big fucking fag for you, and I'm
saving myself, baby," and fuck, his heart's pounding in his chest, Billy's not
fucking deaf, he's gotta be hearing that.
But Billy just snorts at him, and he smacks Joe upside the head again, and then
he pulls Joe away from the door. "C'mon," he says. "Got an adoring public to
see to. Wouldn't want to miss it, right?"
"Right," Joe says, but he waits for Billy to leave first, and he watches Billy
walk down the hall, leaning up against the doorway. Kind of bruised, kind of
sore. Kind of not just Billy, maybe. "Right."
-end-
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