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It was unexpected. Honestly. Anthony was just playing around, he wasn’t trying to do anything, but he couldn’t help the way he froze as it just…came out.
Actually, he wasn’t going to make excuses. It wasn’t him who moaned.
It wasn’t him who liked it.
Actually, that was a lie. As he stood there behind the drummer, Tucker on his knees as he searched the bottom of his closet for something, Anthony thought that he definitely liked everything about it—Tucker on his knees, Tucker’s round ass on display for him, even if under the gentle fabric of the drummer’s sweatpants. Anthony especially liked the sound that came out of his mouth when the vocalist (again, not trying to do anything) spanked him – tapped him, really, it was nothing more than a light tap – with one of his drumsticks.
He didn’t miss the way Tucker tensed up after the moan slipped from his lips, as though it was completely accidental and he hadn’t meant to do it.
Well, that made two of them, at least.
The air in the room had changed. Anthony became too intensely aware that he was standing in Tucker’s bedroom with the drummer on his knees and, judging by the sound that came out of Tucker’s mouth, the drummer was possibly even turned on.
So many thoughts were flying through Anthony’s head. The first, of course, was the fact that Tucker, apparently, liked to be spanked—whether Tucker knew that already was unknown to him, because the suddenness by which it came out and the stiffening of his back suggested that the drummer was, at the very least, unprepared for that reaction. Or, perhaps, unprepared to have Anthony witness it. Anthony understood that, to a degree—there were things about himself that he certainly hadn’t told Tucker either, some of his more…scandalous of kinks.
The second thought was that Anthony himself appeared to like it—not that he was surprised by that, of course, but he hadn’t expected the way his own breath caught in his throat, the way his heart raced, his cock stiffened.
For what had to be an entire minute, the only sound in the room was the breathing of both men, heavy and stilted as they both listened for one another.
Anthony broke the silence by delivering another, slightly harder, tap to Tucker’s behind.
Tucker moaned. Again. Louder.
So, Anthony struck again. Harder. And again. Even harder. He wasn’t going to bruise the man, but he was moving with each strike from the light taps with which he began to…well, at this point, he might say actual spanking. Tucker began to hiss along with his moans, clearly feeling the pressure from the thin, wooden stick as Anthony smacked him over and over again, settling into to a consistent force.
This was definitely not what Anthony expected when he asked Tucker to teach him some drum fills. He agreed to drum for his friend’s band, so, naturally, he should learn how to play the drums, right? And, of course, who better to teach him than Tucker?
Well, Tucker sure was teaching him how to drum something, he thought, as he struck the man yet again.
Anthony felt like he was working up a sweat, breathing heavily as he lost count of how many times he had smacked the drummer in the ass. That was probably not a good thing—people who did this regularly counted spanks, didn’t they? Not that Anthony had had much opportunity to, you know, actually experience something like that, but, well, he’d heard stories. He watched porn. He knew the gist of what he should be doing in either role, and usually – at least in the stories, anyway, not often the porn – there was some sort of agreement. A number, a safe word, a way to figure out where this begins and ends.
So, finally, nearly panting from the exertion, Anthony…stopped.
Silence returned to the room as he stood there breathing, looking down at Tucker and wondering just how red the drummer’s ass was under his pants.
There was another moment of just breathing before Tucker asked, voice hoarse, “Tony? Are you still there?” He hadn’t moved from where he knelt on the floor of his closet, so Anthony assumed he meant to ask if Anthony was finished. After all, Tucker would have heard if Anthony had left—if there was one skill that the vocalist lacked, it was the ability to sneak around undetected. He was just too…well, too much for that.
“Yeah,” Anthony replied, voice just as hoarse as though they had just run a marathon or fucked for hours. “Yeah, baby boy, I’m done.”
He watched as Tucker knelt back on his heels, hissing from the tenderness of the movement as he righted himself and straightened his back. As Tucker rose to his feet, knees cracking as he stood, Anthony caught sight of the tent in the drummer’s sweatpants.
And, well, it certainly wouldn’t do to leave Tucker – or himself, for that matter – like that, especially after having just put him through…well, whatever the fuck that was. So, Anthony moved forward, fingers dipping beneath Tucker’s waistline as he looked to the drummer’s face. A nod—that was all the consent he needed as he reached into the other man’s pants and closed his hand around Tucker’s thick, already leaking cock. It was exciting to see just how much the drummer seemed to enjoy the spanking—Anthony was already filing that thought into the back of his head for another time.
He was surprised, however, when Tucker began to unbutton his jeans and slipped his own hand into the vocalist’s underwear, taking Anthony’s equally hard and leaking cock into his palm, jerking quickly and without rhythm. It was Tucker leaned forward, dropping his head to Anthony’s chest as he moaned and spilled into the vocalist’s hand, that Anthony, too, lost control.
More silence. More breathing. Hands sticky.
Finally, after what had to be at least two minutes, Tucker began to chuckle against Anthony’s chest. “Fuck,” he said, voice totally wrecked.
Anthony couldn’t help but warmly laugh along with him. “I don’t think I can get it up again that soon.”
He knew that if he had more energy, Tucker would have smacked him for that, but instead the drummer chuckled again, continuing to lean against him as they both came down from their orgasms. It was still another couple minutes before both musicians removed their sticky hands from each other’s pants, Tucker wiping his on his sweatpants and Anthony…wiping his on Tucker’s sweatpants, because fuck it, if Tucker was already messing them up with Anthony’s come, then what was the harm? The drummer glared at him playfully but didn’t comment.
“So,” Anthony began, “that was…unexpected.”
Tucker went red as he turned away from the vocalist. “If you say so,” he muttered.
And, oh, everything about that had Anthony’s thoughts flying, because clearly this was not unexpected to Tucker. He thought back to his initial assessment that the drummer had been unprepared for his response to the light tap on his ass—unprepared for Anthony to see it, sure, but it seemed evident now that Tucker was well aware that this was something he enjoyed.
Anthony fought the urge to smirk as he filed that information away into the back of his mind for another time, because there would be another time.
At the very least, another lesson, and, well, Anthony was a menace…