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If at any point in his past life you’d have told William he’d be spending his flight to London with Travie McCoy and Gabe Saporta, he’d have raised his eyebrows and joked about how actually, he already had that dream, and it was quite a good one, thank you very much. And then he’d remember how, even after being a massive fan for most of his life, he’s still not gotten more than a few signed CDs, a fistbump from Travie and a fleeting hug from Gabe. And then he’d sulk for a good while.
“We’re so, so sorry for the inconvenience,” the stewardess says for the thousandth time, and William still can’t move. There’s a good chance he’s dreaming. He’s barely gotten over the fact that they’d messed up the bookings and given his seat to someone else, and now he’s trying not to look as stupidly starstruck as he feels in the face of the two men of his (wet) dreams. Literally.
Travie rolls his eyes and pats the seat with a lazy smile. “’s cool, ma’am, not like we can leave him here, can we? We’ll have fun, the three of us.”
At the same time, Gabe is getting up and moving into the aisle, gesturing towards the middle seat with something that could be a sweeping bow if they weren’t on a plane with severely limited space for everyone over six feet. “C’mon, I promise we only bite if you ask nicely.”
William feels his cheeks heating up. Right. Sex jokes, just what he needed. And that’s ignoring the many times he’d very vividly imagined Gabe’s teeth on his skin.
Gabe winks. William shrugs, his brain screaming NO just as his dick says yes.
It takes about half an hour for William to remember why exactly he hates planes. His knees are bumping into the back of the seat in front of him, his legs are starting to cramp and there is no way to get comfortable, since the other two seats are occupied by probably the only two people on this plane that are not just his height, but even taller. Not even first class offers enough space for that combination, especially since the seats are mostly just wider, instead of offering more room for legs. When he tries to shift in his seat, William’s shoulder brushes Travie’s, and he can hear the other man chuckle quietly next to him.
“See, Gabe and I, what we do is, whenever we take the same flight, we book three seats. One for me, one for Gabeybaby, and one for our legs.” Travis grins and pats William’s knee. William’s knee melts.
“Sorry,” he says. “If you, uh. I guess I can-“
“It’s cool,” Gabe interrupts him, throwing Travie a quick, Significant look, “I’ve got an idea. You a cuddler?” He’s smiling, feral and dangerous, and starts to unbuckle his seatbelt. On William’s other side, Travis follows suit, obviously having caught on already.
And that’s how William finds himself with his back to Travie’s chest, feet across the middle seat in Gabe’s lap. In a way, it reminds William of sharing a bathtub. Fully dressed. With two grown men.
William is dead. He died, and now he’s somehow landed in heaven. That is literally the only reasonable explanation.
Travie starts rubbing little circles where he’s got his hands resting on William’s lower belly, right where his shirt’s hitched up enough to show a stripe of bare skin. Gabe is chatting away happily, his stupidly long fingers wrapped all the way around William’s ankles.
“Anyways, what do you do? College?”
“Right, yeah.” William nods and tucks his hair behind his ear. “Junior, Music at Chicago State.” The lie comes easy, the acceptance letter on his desk at home, and he’s got enough basic knowledge to back up his claim.
It gets them talking about the music business, Travis explaining that they’re both musicians while William bites his tongue, how too many musicians don’t know how to have fun and be themselves anymore, how it’s killing the scene.
It’s kind of surreal, talking about this shit with his two favorite musicians, finding out they’re just as fucking amazing as he’d thought, and just as dorky, but also kind of, well. While a part of William keeps swooning and squealing like the little fanboy he is, another part can’t help but notice that really, they’re just two normal guys. And that’s maybe even better.
Also, Travis is supremely comfortable to lean against, and William catches himself snuggling into him and forgetting to worry about…everything. It’s like him and Gabe radiate warmth and coziness, tempting William to close his eyes and drift off.
Apparently the temptation was too big to resist, because William ends up being woken up by Gabe pinching his toe – when did he take William’s sneakers off? – and cackling when he jumps.
“You’re adorable!” Gabe croons, and blood rushes to William’s face. “Am not,” he protests, and behind him, Travis laughs quietly into his ear. “You are, bro.” At some point, he’s rucked up William’s shirt even further, one thumb just below his sternum. The contrast of Travis’ strong, dark fingers spread over William’s pale white boy skin is ridiculously captivating.
Gabe interrupts William’s mental drooling by plucking at his stockings, and, oh. Shit. He forgot about that. “Is that nylon? Are you wearing nylon socks?” Trying and failing miserably to pull his feet away from Gabe’s lap, William shrugs. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Gabe proper cackles. The movement in Travis’ chest is suggesting that so is he. “You just keep getting cuter, kid,” he says, still stupidly close to William’s ear. His breath tickles William’s neck, making him shudder and close his eyes for a second. The next, Gabe is messing with the hem of his jeans. “Hey,” William protests, once again trying to pull away his foot. “Stop it, Gabe, not everyone’s into your weird eighteenth century whore aesthetic.” “My eighteenth century whore aesthetic is supreme,” Gabe says haughtily, petting his own ankles where his jeans are rolled up a few inches. “But that’s not the point. I wanna see how far up your socks go. Calves or knees?”
Blood rushes to William’s face, and he sends a silent prayer to the heavens. “I’m not answering that question,” he grits through his teeth.
Gabe sighs and completely ignores William’s struggling. “I don’t get why you’re making such a big fuss,” he says, still working on rolling up the jeans as far as he can. “’S a bit oldfashioned or whatever, but like, it’s no big deal. It’s sweet.” “It is,” Travis affirms. He’s still breathing down William’s neck, but his arms have gone a little tighter around his chest.
Fortunately, William’s jeans are pretty tight, so Gabe doesn’t get very far in pushing them up. He pouts, and tugs them back down. Unfortunately, instead of letting it go, he starts smoothing his hands over them, feeling for any uneven spots, obviously still trying to find out where the socks end. William tries to get away, but backed up against Travis, seats on both sides, there’s not much room to escape. Also, Travie is one strong motherfucker, and he’s doing a great job at keeping William still.
“You okay?” he asks. William turns his head, blinking owlishly. Travis smiles, amused and oddly fond. “You know,” he explains, “Gabe’s kind of an asshole. You want him to stop? He’ll stop. You wanna put up a bit of a fight? We can do that. I just gotta know you’re good, yeah? Gabe’s a dick, but he don’t do no shit you don’t want.”
William’s heart skips a beat. He can feel that Gabe’s hands have stopped moving, can see him watching the two of them, attentive and suddenly serious.
Taking a deep breath, William nods. “I’m okay,” he says, voice a tad squeaky. Travis’ face breaks out in a slow smirk. “Hm. Thought so. ‘N Gabe can keep going?” William nods, possibly a bit too enthusiastically, because both of them laugh at him, but it’s not meanly, so mostly it just makes William’s dick go yes, good.
The pressure on William’s legs increases again, Gabe’s hands just above his knees now, sneaking up the sides of his thighs. Jerking back presses William further into Travie, who starts to mouth his neck, stubble scratching the sensitive skin. “Hey,” he murmurs, “You never said how old you are, kiddo.” A tiny bit of guilt makes his way into William’s mind, but he shrugs it off. “Don’t call me a kid, ‘m twenty one.” He can feel Travie grinning. “Of course.” His voice is dripping with sarcasm.
Gabe snickers and looks up when William freezes at that. “No way are you over twenty,” he scoffs at William’s indignant look. “College junior, my ass.” William is about to insist when Travis bites his neck, quick and sharp. “You got ID on you, kid?”
Squirming to stare at Travie, William swallows. “Uhm,” he says. “Seriously?” He probably sounds as disappointed as he feels, because Travie snorts and ruffles his hair. “No, not seriously, do I look like I give a fuck? Now stop it with that deer in the headlights look, or Gabe’s gon’ get his pants dirty. ”
“Piss off, I’m not that bad,” Gabe huffs, and he looks like he’s gonna keep going, but of course that’s when his fingers skim over the top of William’s stockings, and his eyes go stupidly big.
“Shit, William,” he says. “Sweet, sweet little Bilvy. Are those fucking garters?”
Travie’s hand twitches where it’s low on William’s belly, and the other one slowly clenches and unclenches in William’s hair, making him take in a sharp breath. He nods reluctantly after turning his head, away from Travie’s hot mouth and Gabe’s piercing eyes. He so does not need to see them trying not to laugh.
“Shit,” Gabe says again. His voice sounds off, deeper and breathy.
Travis presses the tiniest kiss just behind William’s ear. “Hey, darlin’,” he whispers. “Can we have a look?”
William doesn’t nod this time, but he doesn’t shake his head either. He just kind of goes limp in Travie’s arms, his eyes fluttering shut. God, he wants them to see. Blood rushes to his face at the thought of them looking at him, maybe even praising him, and he bites his lip, eyes firmly shut. He’s never been this aware of his body before.
Gabe’s hand flexes on his thigh. “Come on,” he says, voice pained, “Don’t – you can’t just – look, I’d fucking hate to, but if you’re not cool with this I’ll back off, so-“
“No,” William bites out. He grabs the worn out fabric of Travis’ jeans to both sides and clings on. “No, you can- I don’t mind, I want you to.”
Fortunately he doesn’t have to elaborate. Travie’s hand shifts down from where it was conveniently resting on his stomach and easily pops the buttons on William’s jeans, and then Gabe tugs them down a couple inches.
There’s a long, awfully drawn out moment of silence in which William dies a slow, painful death and curses his dick for being overly enthusiastic. He can’t hear the other two breathing, but that might just be his fucked up mind.
The thing is, he knows exactly what they’re seeing, but he has no idea how it looks to them. His flat belly, all pale skin and no muscle definition, the pale blue panties stretched over his stupidly prominent hipbones, the pattern of small, white flowers partially covered by the delicate lace of the garter belt. The lace tops of the white stockings, the wet spot where his dick is straining against the silky material.
William really hopes they won’t laugh at him.
They don’t. Travis’ presses William closer to what feels like an at least half hard dick and curses quietly, Gabe whines and lets his fingers slide over the panties, along the outline of William’s cock. “So fucking pretty,” he says. Behind William, Travie nods. “The fucking prettiest. ‘S like I said, he just keeps getting cuter.”
Slowly, William opens his eyes. Gabe looks positively hungry. “Travie,” he says, “can I? Please?” William’s not sure if he missed something or if the two just know each other too well, but Travis seems to understand.
“Dude,” he grins, “Fucking go for it. As long as the kid doesn’t mind – but I don’t think he does, hm? Do you, Bilvy?” He drags William’s head back by his hair and bites his neck, and William bucks up into Gabe’s hand with a choked off moan. “We’re on a plane,” he protests weakly, and Gabe smiles sweetly. “If that’s your only concern,” he says, and then he’s pushing the panties down and licking up William’s dick, taking the head in his mouth with a content hum, and William forgets to worry.
Gabe is way too good at blowjobs, he should come with a warning.
Travie is still holding him down, one arm across his chest, the other drawing patterns on his skin, moving up and up, teasing just around his nipples, and that’s just not fair, because of course he’d have fucking callouses. Fucking musicians. William tries to arch into the touch, buck his hips up into Gabe’s mouth, but he can barely move. It’s too good.
He makes the mistake of looking down, and Travie’s hand pressing down on his pelvis, tattoos sprawling over his arms and fingers, and Gabe’s mouth around his dick, eyes open and mischievous, and with a helpless gasp he comes, hands still fisted in Travie’s jeans. Gabe doesn’t pull off right away, and then there’s suddenly a voice chirping, “Would you gentlemen like a- Oh, God!”
The flight attendant is gone as quick as she came, but William’s dignity doesn’t look like it’s coming back anytime soon. Travis stifles a laugh into his neck. Gabe takes a bit longer to react, since he’s still got William’s dick in his mouth, making him twitch with oversensitivity, but eventually he pulls off and immediately bursts out laughing.
William glares. Travis pets his hair. “Come on,” he says, smirk evident in his voice, “Nothing to be ashamed of, pretty sure Gabe had all your private parts covered.” “That is exactly the problem!” William hisses, but that only makes Gabe laugh harder. Asshole. Then William hisses again, but this time because both Travie’s dark, tattooed fingers and Gabe’s slightly lighter ones are touching his cock. It’s torture, and what’s worse, it takes William maybe ten minutes to get hard again.
“Teenage stamina,” Travis snorts. William blushes hard. Gabe coos.
By the time they get off the plane, William’s panties (and shirt. Even though he’d offered to swallow. Gabe really is kind of an asshole) are thoroughly ruined, and both Gabe and Travie are smug and keep glancing at William’s mouth kind of hopefully. They’d all gotten another few hours of naptime, and when there’s an empty bathroom on the way to the baggage claim, William doesn’t need much convincing to follow the two rockstars.
As soon as the door is locked, Travie grabs William and pushes him up against a wall, kisses him hard. William can hear Gabe unbuckling his belt somewhere next to them, and then Gabe’s hands tug him away from the wall. It’s a good thing Travie doesn’t bother to stop making out with William, ‘cause that way he’s also holding him up, and when Gabe slips a hand into the back of his jeans, William’s not sure he could stand on his own.
“So I know that this isn’t exactly very romantic,” Gabe says, almost conversationally, his hand all the way into William’s pants, his fingers stroking his perineum. “But if you don’t mind, I’ve got lube and condoms in my backpack.” “’Cause you’re one nasty pervert,” Travis adds with a grin over William’s shoulder. “Also, he’s kind of humping my leg, so I think he’d be fine with it.” William turns to look at Gabe and gives him his prettiest puppy eyes. “Please?” he says, and it works so much better than he’d hoped. Gabe’s eyes narrow, and then a dry finger enters William and he gives up playing coy to melt in Travie’s arms and moan into his shoulder.
They keep telling him how good he sounds, how pretty he looks, and by the time Gabe’s got three fingers in him, William is begging them to finally, actually fuck him. Travie says something about how he should get to fuck him first, since Gabe got the first blowjob, and Gabe reluctantly agrees. He leans against the wall and pushes his jeans down, gesturing at William to come closer. “C’mere, sweetie,” he says, “Show me again how fucking good you look sucking my dick.”
He slides one hand into William’s hair, pushing it out of his face and then guiding his head down, making him bend over, while Travie holds his hips and spreads William’s legs with his own.
William’s quite glad he’s gotten fucked before. The, what, three? Four? Times are nothing compared to the half hour in an airport bathroom he spends with Travie McCoy and Gabe Saporta, but at least he’s used to the general idea. It’s rough and gentle at the same time, ruthless fucking softened by sweet words and a constant stream of praise.
They walk out together, probably looking exactly like what they’ve been doing. William couldn’t care less. If there’s one thing he doesn’t mind people knowing, it’s that he just got fucked by Travie and Gabe. He starts wistfully humming ‘I just had sex’, which makes them laugh out loud. It’s pretty great.
It stops being quite so great when Gabe and Travie head for the Victoria Express train, and William awkwardly stops and clears his throat. They turn around in unison and look at him expectantly.
“I, uh,” William says. The fact that he’s been with two internationally famous singers suddenly comes crushing down on him again. “I guess this is goodbye? I’m taking the other train.”
Travie frowns, Gabe pouts and makes a half step towards William, then stops and looks back at Travie. “I wanna keep him,” he whines, which makes William blush. Gabe’s kidding, obviously, but William would so not mind that. Travie sighs and shakes his head. “Gabriel, you can’t just go around wanting to keep people. He probably got work to do ‘n shit.” He rolls his eyes at William. “Where you goin’ anyways?”
“Staying at some crappy hostel. ‘S cheap and close to the O2 World,” William shrugs, irrationally embarrassed. Gabe blinks. “The O2 World? Whatcha seeing?”
There’s a really, really awkward pause. William resolutely stares at his dirty sneakers.
“Um. You guys. I’m, er. Kind of a fan.”
He can practically feel them stare at him.
“A fan,” Travie says, voce tight, like he’s trying to either not laugh or not punch William.
“Erm. Yeah. Since, uh. Since about six years.”
“So since the beginning,” Travie says. William nods, still not looking up.
“You know,” Gabe muses, and he sounds oddly predatory again, “Gabe and I, we’ve got a pretty big suite at the Hilton. I’m sure we can fit in one other person, if you don’t mind sharing a bed.”
William’s head snaps up. “I,” he says. “What? Really?”
“Only if you call us Daddy,” Travie says, dead serious. William stares. Gabe and Travie crack up. “Your face!” pants Gabe. “Jesus Christ, we’re just kidding.”
It should probably worry him more, William thinks as he lets them take his hands and lead him away, that he’d seriously considered it. Then Gabe pulls him down on his lap in the train, and Travie kisses him gently and calls him a good boy, and William thinks, even if all he gets is this train ride, it’ll still be worth it.