Wonderbox

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After a tour show, Julian relaxes in the shower in his hotel room...

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Notes: A big ‘thank you’ to ailcia for beta-ing :o)

Julian let the towel drop carelessly from around his hips as he padded over to the hissing shower. He grasped the clammy handle on the frosted door panel and jerked it toward him, the damp seal resisting him then breaking with a satisfying ‘schlack’. He stepped around the door and into the humid bubble of glass and tiles, closing himself inside it and ducking underneath the water in one graceless move.

It was steaming hot under the spray – too hot, and he felt the skin under his hair prickling and burning as the droplets tumbled and splashed through the dark brown waves. He was reluctant to turn the temperature down, though; it felt good, scouring away the sweat and dirt. His skin flushed and tingled as the water ran over his shoulders, down his back, and between his legs. Julian turned his face to the torrent and opened his mouth to the flow. The hot water filled his mouth and ran over his lips, spilling down his chin and neck and mingling with the spray hitting his chest. He closed his mouth and swallowed, savouring the sweet metallic taste as the hot water flowed down his throat, cleansing him inside, while tiny jets drummed against his forehead and eyelids, massaging away the tension in his brow. He stayed under until he couldn’t hold his breath, finally turning away from the falling water and shaking the droplets out of his hair as he sucked in the warm air clouding the cubicle.

He reached over to the gel dispenser and took a generous amount, slicking it over his hands. It smelled fresh and the aroma seemed to strengthen as it foamed against his skin. He rubbed his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes as rivulets of soap and water meandered down over his face, then leant back to rinse. The smell and the water surrounded him as he moved his hands to his chest, circling slippery trails over the taut skin and dipping down to rub soap over his stomach. For the first time since he’d stepped on stage earlier he felt himself relax, cocooned there in the mist of steam and heat, and cleansed under the water and the touch of his own hands. He arched his back and felt the muscles draw out like elastic, warm and supple. He felt good.

Julian allowed a ghost of a smile to pass over his lips as he reached to the gel again and salved it over his fingers, leaning back further into the spray as they slid across his stomach and began tracing the soft line of hair that led down to his groin. The water ran down his body and spilled over his hand as his fingers curled through the dark hair and reached for his cock, slowly stirring to his touch and slippery with the sheen of the hot spray. The soap foamed and spread as he took a loose grip around the shaft and began to pull, his fingers working the skin underneath them, moving in lazy ripples. Yes, it felt good, the sensation sparking clearer and brighter in his mind than any other in the last few hours. As he settled into a gentle rhythm of movement, he closed his eyes and let the sensation begin to take over, choosing its own fantasies. He smiled again and took a breath, almost immediately he was there, with mouth and lips and tongue ready, a mental image to trace the pattern his fingers were making. Julian turned in toward the spray again, lowering his head and shaking the droplets from his lashes as the water ran down his neck, the pressure of doing the show melting away beneath the heat and the feeling catching deep inside him, drawing his concentration into pinpoint focus on his own body.

This was something he needed, something to shake off the dark frame that had settled over his mind – that workaholic narrowness that closed him down. The soap and water mingled under his touch, and his cock responded keener and closer to the play of his fingers and the swirl of the warm liquid running over and over it as he let images of him begin to jumble behind his eyes. His face, his body… down on his knees. Julian could almost trick the feeling of his hair, wet to his palms and teased through his fingers as he guided his mouth.

The heat surrounding his cock and firing in his groin caught in his blood and began to radiate through his veins like a burning fuse. He felt his cheeks flush as the flick of his wrist speeded up, his fingers encircling tighter like the pressure of hot and steady lips, and his train of thought started fragmenting further within the certainty of each teasing, intensely arousing movement driving him toward release. His brain sifted through snapshots: pale eyes with smudged black surrounding them; smooth pale skin; long slim fingers tracing an eternal figure eight on his chest; long slim fingers sliding up the neck of a bass; pale eyes staring up at him under an archly furrowed brow; uneven white teeth pulling up on a lower lip flushed brightly pink; heavy lids closing on pale sparkling eyes as those lips leant in to take Julian’s glistening cock between them. And the soundtrack to the slideshow became the drumming of the spray and the rasp of his own breath, irregularly held and released as explicit images and the ghosted feeling of enveloping heat and insistent pressure intermingled into one repeating pattern of everything that Julian couldn’t resist.

The water felt searingly hot now, washing the sweat from his pores, steam dampening his mouth as he inhaled, catching in his throat and burning in his lungs. The images danced like flames, and Julian could have sworn the reality of the feeling of taut skin against his own, of steadying his hands on slim shoulders, of gripping tightly and thrusting forward. The humidity was almost oppressive, sucking the oxygen out of the air as the water dripped down the walls and soaked every part of him. The sound of the spray beat heavy in his ears as the waves began to roll through his body. His breathing broke up raggedly as he gave up holding on, and with one last, hard pull, he came, shuddering and spilling across the clammy tiles, the briefest murmur escaping his lips as the image in his mind flickered and disappeared.

Julian opened his eyes as his breathing slowed to normal and found he was looking down at the sticky white trail sliding down the ceramic in front of him. Laughing quietly to himself he leant in and smeared the fluid across the tiles, angling a stream of water down his arm to wash it away to nothing beneath his palm. Stepping back again, he rinsed his hands and let the hot water roll down his chest and stomach and through the short dark hair glistening at his groin, before re-slicking his hands with the gel and performing the autopilot soap and sluice routine he had intended in the first place, cleansing away the exertions of the last few hours and the last few minutes as one.

Having washed himself clean, Julian gave himself a final minute under the spray, stretching his long arms up over his head and easing out all the muscles in his shoulders again, before pushing his soaking hair back and turning the dial to zero. The water stopped abruptly, leaving a silence in its place, save for the gurgle of the hotel pipes and the trickle of water draining from around the soles of his feet. Julian turned and pushed the door open allowing a rush of cold air into the cubicle. Stepping out into the bathroom he stooped to pick up the towel. It wasn’t there.

Confused, Julian scanned the floor.

“Whoa! What the…”

He found himself staring straight at a pair of black cowboy boots. Cowboy boots attached to slim, black denim clad legs. Black denim clad legs topped off with defiant, angular hips, a studded belt casually draped across them and a very obvious bulge in the crotch of the jeans. Julian straightened up slowly, eyes travelling upward past the cotton-skimmed stomach and chest, to the face; those pale eyes with smudged black surrounding them, pale eyes looking at him under an archly furrowed brow; uneven white teeth pulling up on a lower lip flushed brightly pink and a hint of a sparkle showing under heavy lids closing as he moved forward, leaning in to kiss Julian, mouth and lips and tongue ready.

A fantasy made flesh and everything he couldn’t resist.

beedekka