This is More Than a Daydream
Mar. 20th, 2022 08:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
racerkorerkFor SMUT Prompt #38 “I need you. Now!”
Ollie turned in early sometimes when the bands were playing. He had races and didn’t drink. On top of it he still felt on the fringes of everyone, like he didn’t quite belong because of Rik. He wished that feeling would fade, that one and so many others. It left him tossing and turning before he could get comfortable and go to sleep. Mikkel was on the other bed in the room, dozing quietly in the comfort of not being alone while Sigurd was on stage. Ollie felt for the younger Dane and what he must be struggling with. Sighing to himself he turned over and pulled the blankets up close around his body. It was hard to sleep when he felt so lonely and isolated but eventually exhaustion won out over anxiety.
He was asleep for awhile without any dreams before he imagined walking around somewhere. The surroundings too hazy to be distinct when he headed for the door in his dreams. He opened it to a flood of sounds behind him and he turned to investigate the hazy space and all its indistinct noise before giving the room any attention. It was a dressing room, but it was empty. As he stepped in, even asleep, his mind was hoping for Rik to be there. Ollie was desperate for that old connection even when unconscious.
It wasn’t until he was at the table that was strewn with things he associated with The Hammers; Hunter’s scarves, Aarne’s makeup, a few chains, Rik’s signature purple guitar picks with the harp on them… only when he was staring at those did someone enter the room from the other side. It was too much like real life when he looked up, heart aching for Rik but it was Hans walking toward him. He wore faded blue jeans and not much else as he dried his hair with a towel. Disappointment twisted up inside and that felt real too. He sighed as Hans tossed the towel over a chair.
“What’s wrong?” The older Swede always sounded concerned and he did in the dream, too. Ollie’s fingers were on those picks. They matched the one that he carried in his wallet, the one that went into the car with him every race.
“You miss Rik?”
Hans’ voice felt close to him, but Ollie was too busy struggling with threatening tears. “He took my heart with him.”
Ollie believed that, waking or in a dream, that Rik still owned his heart and carried it off. He couldn’t feel things but maybe he didn’t want to feel anything. Loosing Rik hurt so much Ollie couldn’t even navigate his own feelings. Hans’ hand on his wrist, down where his fingers remained pressed to those picks, drew his attention up to the taller Swede.
“It’s ok to miss him but you can’t do it forever.” Ollie wasn’t sure if this imaginary Hans said those words or if it was his own mind trying to shake him out of the darkness that was settling over him. The Dane felt a smile try to tug at his lips when he gazed at the Swede. There was something like Rik in Hans, or the other way around, maybe both. Some was physical but the mannerisms, the quiet, shy gentleness, and the care that was for someone else first. Ollie looked away but felt the fingers sliding into his hair just above the ear. It gave him chills down his spine, pleasant little shivers.
“I need you, now.”
Hans’ words pulled his eyes away from the table, back to the taller Swede. He doesn’t know why he leaned in, but he did. Hans met him eagerly in the middle of the short space between them. Ollie felt the gasp but didn’t know whose it was as he shoves his mouth into that kiss, grabbing for the taller man. The Dane was so touch starved, even in his dreams, that he had to break the kiss to breath. His chest was heaving as his eyes tipped down to watch Hans push off his vest. It fell on the floor, but Ollie was already pushing his chest to Hans’, up on his tip toes for another kiss, hungry for more contact.
“I need this.” The words slipped out of Ollie’s lips before he could stop them but the whispered “I know.” That came in return gave him goose flesh even more than the hands on his waist. He felt the push, stepping back as the older guitarist made space between them to kiss down his chest. His body arched into the feeling of contact. It left him fumbling with Hans’ jeans while those lips continued to roam over his neck and chest. Hans was opening his belt, hands sliding down his inner thighs. Ollie bucked under the touch, squirming and moaning with need.
The smaller Dane pushed against the guitarist until he bumped into something solid. Their lips crushing together and body instinctively falling into a rhythm against each other’s thighs. His head fell back, and Hans’ mouth was instantly kissing out trails along the muscles and curves. Snatching handfuls of blonde hair Ollie pulled Hans in, forcing him to kiss up the Dane’s neck and chin until he could force their mouths to meet in a needy kiss.
The ass grab and tug into the Swede’s body startled him so much that he woke up. He gasped in bed feeling his cock throbbing and the heat on his skin. Rolling on his back in the dark he pushed his hair out of his face. It was damp with sweat. The Dane trying to calm down.
“I would have stayed in my own room if I knew you’d keep me up moaning about that Swede.”
Ollie half laughed at the drowsy but still bratty voice coming at him through the dark. “You don’t think you keep me awake moaning like a whore when Sigurd hasn’t fucked you and he’s not here to shut your mouth in your sleep?”
“At least I’m fucking the person who wants me instead of moaning constantly.” Mikkel was exhausted from too many shifts and too many emotional outbursts. Ollie could hear it in the younger man’s voice, but he still groaned at the comment.
“I heard them come back a little while ago.” Mikkel told him more compassionately. “Why don’t you go see him?”
“I want sleep.” Ollie grouched while burying his face in the pillow and turning over on his stomach.
“You want to stay awake… and fuck.” Mikkel shifted in the bed so violently the creaking was audible. “That whorish moaning wasn’t wanting sleep.”
Ollie just sighed. “Mikkel go to sleep or go find that trashy bassist and have him shove something in your mouth to shut it the fuck up and leave me alone.”
“Fuck you.” Mikkel was louder. “Stop being a bitch because you’re horny and not doing anything about it.”
Ollie let out another breath and shook his head. He’s too tired for this shit but the bitching has woken him up too much to go back to sleep. Damned that brat. Maybe he should just get up at this point.
Ollie turned in early sometimes when the bands were playing. He had races and didn’t drink. On top of it he still felt on the fringes of everyone, like he didn’t quite belong because of Rik. He wished that feeling would fade, that one and so many others. It left him tossing and turning before he could get comfortable and go to sleep. Mikkel was on the other bed in the room, dozing quietly in the comfort of not being alone while Sigurd was on stage. Ollie felt for the younger Dane and what he must be struggling with. Sighing to himself he turned over and pulled the blankets up close around his body. It was hard to sleep when he felt so lonely and isolated but eventually exhaustion won out over anxiety.
He was asleep for awhile without any dreams before he imagined walking around somewhere. The surroundings too hazy to be distinct when he headed for the door in his dreams. He opened it to a flood of sounds behind him and he turned to investigate the hazy space and all its indistinct noise before giving the room any attention. It was a dressing room, but it was empty. As he stepped in, even asleep, his mind was hoping for Rik to be there. Ollie was desperate for that old connection even when unconscious.
It wasn’t until he was at the table that was strewn with things he associated with The Hammers; Hunter’s scarves, Aarne’s makeup, a few chains, Rik’s signature purple guitar picks with the harp on them… only when he was staring at those did someone enter the room from the other side. It was too much like real life when he looked up, heart aching for Rik but it was Hans walking toward him. He wore faded blue jeans and not much else as he dried his hair with a towel. Disappointment twisted up inside and that felt real too. He sighed as Hans tossed the towel over a chair.
“What’s wrong?” The older Swede always sounded concerned and he did in the dream, too. Ollie’s fingers were on those picks. They matched the one that he carried in his wallet, the one that went into the car with him every race.
“You miss Rik?”
Hans’ voice felt close to him, but Ollie was too busy struggling with threatening tears. “He took my heart with him.”
Ollie believed that, waking or in a dream, that Rik still owned his heart and carried it off. He couldn’t feel things but maybe he didn’t want to feel anything. Loosing Rik hurt so much Ollie couldn’t even navigate his own feelings. Hans’ hand on his wrist, down where his fingers remained pressed to those picks, drew his attention up to the taller Swede.
“It’s ok to miss him but you can’t do it forever.” Ollie wasn’t sure if this imaginary Hans said those words or if it was his own mind trying to shake him out of the darkness that was settling over him. The Dane felt a smile try to tug at his lips when he gazed at the Swede. There was something like Rik in Hans, or the other way around, maybe both. Some was physical but the mannerisms, the quiet, shy gentleness, and the care that was for someone else first. Ollie looked away but felt the fingers sliding into his hair just above the ear. It gave him chills down his spine, pleasant little shivers.
“I need you, now.”
Hans’ words pulled his eyes away from the table, back to the taller Swede. He doesn’t know why he leaned in, but he did. Hans met him eagerly in the middle of the short space between them. Ollie felt the gasp but didn’t know whose it was as he shoves his mouth into that kiss, grabbing for the taller man. The Dane was so touch starved, even in his dreams, that he had to break the kiss to breath. His chest was heaving as his eyes tipped down to watch Hans push off his vest. It fell on the floor, but Ollie was already pushing his chest to Hans’, up on his tip toes for another kiss, hungry for more contact.
“I need this.” The words slipped out of Ollie’s lips before he could stop them but the whispered “I know.” That came in return gave him goose flesh even more than the hands on his waist. He felt the push, stepping back as the older guitarist made space between them to kiss down his chest. His body arched into the feeling of contact. It left him fumbling with Hans’ jeans while those lips continued to roam over his neck and chest. Hans was opening his belt, hands sliding down his inner thighs. Ollie bucked under the touch, squirming and moaning with need.
The smaller Dane pushed against the guitarist until he bumped into something solid. Their lips crushing together and body instinctively falling into a rhythm against each other’s thighs. His head fell back, and Hans’ mouth was instantly kissing out trails along the muscles and curves. Snatching handfuls of blonde hair Ollie pulled Hans in, forcing him to kiss up the Dane’s neck and chin until he could force their mouths to meet in a needy kiss.
The ass grab and tug into the Swede’s body startled him so much that he woke up. He gasped in bed feeling his cock throbbing and the heat on his skin. Rolling on his back in the dark he pushed his hair out of his face. It was damp with sweat. The Dane trying to calm down.
“I would have stayed in my own room if I knew you’d keep me up moaning about that Swede.”
Ollie half laughed at the drowsy but still bratty voice coming at him through the dark. “You don’t think you keep me awake moaning like a whore when Sigurd hasn’t fucked you and he’s not here to shut your mouth in your sleep?”
“At least I’m fucking the person who wants me instead of moaning constantly.” Mikkel was exhausted from too many shifts and too many emotional outbursts. Ollie could hear it in the younger man’s voice, but he still groaned at the comment.
“I heard them come back a little while ago.” Mikkel told him more compassionately. “Why don’t you go see him?”
“I want sleep.” Ollie grouched while burying his face in the pillow and turning over on his stomach.
“You want to stay awake… and fuck.” Mikkel shifted in the bed so violently the creaking was audible. “That whorish moaning wasn’t wanting sleep.”
Ollie just sighed. “Mikkel go to sleep or go find that trashy bassist and have him shove something in your mouth to shut it the fuck up and leave me alone.”
“Fuck you.” Mikkel was louder. “Stop being a bitch because you’re horny and not doing anything about it.”
Ollie let out another breath and shook his head. He’s too tired for this shit but the bitching has woken him up too much to go back to sleep. Damned that brat. Maybe he should just get up at this point.
