Robert walked into the stadium and paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the change in light from outside. He glanced surreptiously around him, nodding absently in greeting to the various stage crew and technicians as they went about finishing with the stage setup. He'd passed by Perry and Jason, The Cure's guitarist and drummer, respectively, a moment ago; the pre-show excitement evident in their animated faces as they chatted. The others he knew, would be in their right place when the lights came up, but there was really only one person he was interested in finding at the moment. And Robert noted with slight disgruntlement, that Simon didn't seem to be around.

He sat down with a sigh on the nearest comfy chair and chewed on the inside of his lower lip, wondering where his best friend had gone to. Simon had been somewhat scarce during most of the afternoon, and if it wasn't for the smile he'd last seen on the bassists' gorgeous face, he would've thought Simon was trying to avoid him. There was, of course, no earthly reason why that would be, Robert thought, toying with the tube of bold red lipstick he would apply just before going onstage. He was feeling just a little bit lonely at the moment, and had hoped for his friend's comforting presence. And, he admitted with a tiny smile to himself, maybe a bit more. He looked up and around again, but still no Simon. Robert was about to give up when he spotted standing in the shadows, the backside of a pair of shapely legs attached to a pair of heavy black boots...and a black skirt. The small flare of hope died as he gave a slightly self-conscious wry smile.

`Almost as nice as Si's legs,' he conceded grudgingly, as he stole another look.

The rest of his view was obliterated however, by a passing stage hand. Robert, his mouth turned up in brief annoyance, did another cursory sweep of the area, turning back just as the owner of the legs in question, turned around. And walked out of the shadows toward him. Robert's feigned indifference was lost as his eyes travelled up long legs to see the face he'd been looking for, grinning at him.

Simon.

Robert grinned back as Simon perched himself on the edge of the chair. "Missed me?" he asked saucily. Robert raised a brow at the question, looking instead at the skirt. "Like it? Just got it today."

"It's no different from your other skirt," Robert mused, his fingers plucking at the edges. "Maybe longer, is all." He paused. There was something else that was different, only he couldn't think of what it was. Just as he was about to ask, the stage manager gave the signal that it was time to go on stage. "I've got to put my lipstick on," Robert said grabbing a mirror from the small bag nearby. Simon smiled as he watched Robert apply the lipstick to lips that made a hundred million women and some men, swoon.

"You should get your lips insured," Simon joked. "You know, like with Lloyds of London." Robert gave him a mock-glare, then grinned in return as he finished up, and capped the tube.

"I've got all the coverage I need." Robert said, holding up the tube of lipstick as proof. He chuckled as Simon rolled his eyes at the pun. They stood up, and walked over to where the rest of the band stood, waiting to go onstage.

As most of the lights dimmed, they heard the familiar refrain of the crowd roaring in anticipation, the sound adding to the building excitement they always felt just before stepping onstage. And by the few guiding shadows, as they all stepped to their respective places, the thought which had puzzled Robert earlier, came to light as he lifted the strap of his guitar. Turning to Simon, "You're not wearing tights with your skirt tonight." In the shadows, Simon grinned.

"That's not all I'm not wearing tonight." Simon murmured, just loud enough for Robert to hear. Simon's grin widened, watching Robert's puzzlement turn into shock, as the implication of his words hit home. Simon turned to pick up his bass, a mocking look of innocence, as Robert nervously looked back at him before edging to the microphone.

Robert needlessly fussed with his guitar, stalling for time. He knew they should be starting, but he had trouble thinking past Simon's words, past Simon's skirt. He shifted uncomfortably, aware that he was getting hard, and had to turn from the microphone slightly. Thank the gods he had the habit of wearing the oversized hockey jerseys. He'd almost groaned into the microphone when he remembered that the setlist guaranteed a show of nearly 3 hours. And Simon knew this too, the bastard. Robert looked heaven-ward for a moment, taking a deep breath before opening the first song of the evening.
 

* * *

Halfway through the show, Robert had to admit that Simon's gravity defying abilities, in keeping his skirt down as he bounced and prowled the stage, was impressive. But it still didn't make him any less nervous. So far, no one seemed to noticed that anything was...off, except for an odd look or two their way, from their keyboardist, at Simon's knowing smirks. All Robert could hope for, as he wiped away the sweat rolling down his temple with the edge of a sleeve, was for the rest of the show to finish with out a breeze--literally.

I do hope you're enjoying this, Si, Robert thought, smiling sweetly back at Simon. He noted with some annoyance, that Simon seemed completely unaffected by the implied threat of his smile. Robert's jaw tightened briefly, in an effort to control his hard-on, as he tried to re-focus his mind back on the show.

`All in vain,' Robert thought, just as they finished another song. He could barely stand the agony. He was at least glad the setlist wasn't geared to a pop-happy audience. The last thing he felt like doing, was bouncing with glee. Robert knew he shouldn't have looked then, but he did. And the saucy smirk on Simon's face was his undoing. Puttng down his guitar, Robert reached Simon in three determined strides just as the bassist was changing guitars. He could see Simon's eyes widening in disbelief as he jerked the zipper of his trousers down.

Simon had opened his mouth to speak, but found himself being turned around, and bent forward in an insistent grip, his hands pressed flat on the drum stage. The loudest sound in the arena at that moment was the gasp that came from Simon's throat as his skirt was yanked up. That gasp quickly gave way to a gutteral groan as Robert thrust into him in one smooth motion, and Simon threw his head back in a shock of wild pleasure. After that, the shocked stares of everyone in the arena ceased to exist. Only the ongoing motion of Robert driving himself into Simon, the insane pleasure of Robert's hard length, over and over, was all that mattered at the moment. Then the only thing that mattered was the burning heat that exploded inside him and Simon's legs liquified as Robert growled out his release, his own bass groans accompanying perfectly. One could never argue that the Cure didn't give a memorable show.

Robert smiled to himself.

"What's so funny?"

Robert turned to Perry, glancing past him to Simon, the smile on his face inscrutable. He saw Simon lick his lips nervously and Robert's lips twitched in amusement.

"I just remembered something funny I heard before we started." Robert said, his focus on the guitar clearly indicating that he wasn't about to elaborate. Perry as usual, took it in stride.

"Must've been some joke," Perry murmured before he followed suit. Robert snickered in response. He half moved to turn away when he noticed the look on Simon's face. Simon had recovered quickly and was grinning impudently again. Robert raised a brow, a brief look of challenge in his blue-grey eyes before he stepped up to the microphone again.
 

* * *

Simon scanned the area backstage, out of the way of the stage crew dismantling the set, for Robert. He'd seen Jason take off with Perry somewhere earlier, and just before that, their keyboardist, Roger, had hurried off, mumbling about a date. He knew Robert was still here because he'd been told to wait, but whatever Robert was doing, he was taking a long time. Simon chuckled to himself, as he recalled Robert sweating a bit more than usual under the hot stage lights. The look on Robert's face just before they started the show was something he'd always enjoy remembering, he thought. He was still grinning when a roadie approached him several minutes later, folded note in hand. After pondering the contents of the note, Simon grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.

Back at the hotel, Simon paused before knocking on Robert's door. He wondered what Robert was up to, but shrugged. He'd find out soon enough.

"Who is it?" he heard Robert's voice from within.

"It's me...Simon."

"Come in, the door's open."

That surprised Simon. Robert usually kept his hotel room doors locked. Double bolted if they had it available. He let himself in and saw that the room was sparely lit. A small lamp by the bedside table cast soft shadows, throwing the colours and shapes of the room into warm disarray.

"Lock it," he'd heard.

Simon reached out and turned the lock, a smile on his face. That smile faded slightly when he turned around. Robert was sitting on a chair nearby, wearing a long terry robe, his legs stretched out in front of him, bare feet crossed at the ankles. Even with the narrow gap in the robe, he could tell that Robert wasn't wearing anything else. Simon felt his eyes darken slightly at the very thought.

Robert watched Simon shift, when his eyes dropped down to Simon's skirt. Anyone observing, would have marvelled at his cool, as he watched Simon's skirt give the tiniest twitch of it's own accord. Simon nervously cleared his throat to speak, even as he turned to toss his jacket on another chair. A movement, then Robert was up close against him.

"Not a word, Simon."

Simon froze at Robert's voice. The throaty purr had a definate ring of steel behind it. He felt Robert's hands on his hips, smoothing the fabric down the side, along his thighs. Simon's gaze dipped down as Robert's hands moved to the front of his skirt, pressing Simon against him as he did so. Stifling a groan, Simon allowed his head to fall back against Robert's shoulders as fingers came teasingly close to his groin. He couldn't see Robert's wicked smile as his skirt started to tent. But he felt the cool air as Robert stepped back suddenly, hands bracing him so he wouldn't fall. A mixture of desire and curiosity was on Simon's face as he turned around.

"I want you to take everything off." Robert ordered.

Simon smiled. He had no problems following that sort of order. He yanked his boots off quickly, his shirt following more slowly. He saw Robert's indulgent smile at his bit of showing off, and smiled back, his hands now on the waistband of his skirt.

"No. Not the skirt."

The words stopped Simon quite effectively. The air in the room seemed suddenly warmer as Robert moved in close again. Simon sucked in a breath. Robert had reached out and was lazily outlining, with a finger, Simon's cock; the tip barely covered by the now tented skirt. He let his breath out in anticipation when Robert moved his hand underneath, only to groan as Robert gave his cock only the barest touch before caressing his arse, keeping an inch of space between them.

"You're so...firm, Si." Robert complimented him wickedly, knowing Simon knew full well, what he was really referring to.

`Bastard' Simon thought, biting his lip. Robert had moved behind him, and was caressing him everywhere except where he wanted Robert's hands most. The touches varied in pressure and intensity, except when Robert moved closer to his cock. There, the light touches, were driving him crazy. Simon was sure that even butterflies must fuck harder than when Robert touched him there, but he couldn't do anything about it. Whenever he tried to speak, or touch Robert in return, Robert would stop, with an arch look that told Simon quite clearly, how the game was to be played tonight. He could barely stifle his groans in revenge either, as Robert knew just where to touch him and how.

"You do want to play tonight, don't you, Si?" Robert had whispered near his ear at one point. Simon tried to glare at him, but the quick, wet flicker of Robert's tongue in his ear, just before the question, had him trembling. Simon felt his face flush as Robert chuckled low in his throat at his response. He felt Robert shift behind him and his breath caught at the feeling of Robert's chest hairs tickling his back. Robin must have opened his robe, Simon thought a little madly. That guess was confirmed when Robert pressed himself against Simon.

Simon couldn't help himself. He turned around, and before Robert could react, pulled him in close for a searing kiss. Feeling a measure of satisfaction, at hearing Robert's groan of pleasure, Simon thrust his tongue in, deepening the kiss. Robert met him stroke for stroke, reaching up to caress Simon's face before tangling his hand in his hair. Simon brushed aside Robert's robe impatiently, so there'd be nothing between them. He felt the soft-hard length of Robert's cock up against his, and groaned aloud at the sensation. He was about to push the robe off when Robert tore himself away, holding Simon back firmly but gently.

"No," Robert said, his voice husky, his breath harsh in the room. His dark hair was wildly askew as usual, contrasting against pale skin that looked so deliciously illuminated in the soft light.

"We're going to do this right," he added with a wicked smile. He disrobed and turned Simon around, gently pushing him towards the wide bed, waiting just for them.

Simon sat on the bed and watched Robert move towards him. He could never get tired of seeing that face, or that body. Robert had said once, that his idea of hunkiness was him--Simon. He thought of that now, and of how it was without a doubt, mutual. His mouth watered slightly at the thought of Robert pressing himself up against him again, all warm, hard, slick, and soft at the same time.

"Turn around Simon," Robert said, nudging him gently. "I want you on your hands and knees." He smiled slowly as Simon reached up for another kiss before complying with a dazed look.

The wait was almost unbearable. Simon was crouched on all fours, while Robert ran his hands lazily up and down Simon's thighs from behind. And he seemed all too happy to be taking his time.

"Did I ever tell you what great legs you have?" Robert's hands slowly appreciated the limbs in question.

"I think--" Simon gasped as he felt a tongue on the underside of his cock.

"What's that Si?" Robert's voice was all innocence.

"I, I--" He tried again. "I th--think you, you--" Simon turned his lips in, unable to speak as he shuddered. Robert gone down on his back, in between Simon's legs. The tip of his tongue flicked attentively at Simon's cock which he held towards him only by the fingertips. It was enough he knew, to drive his best friend to more than mere distraction.

Robert paused long enough to `hmmm' in question.

"What was the question?" Simon said, not really caring. His legs burned with the effort of staying balanced under the building heat that enveloped him. He choked out another gasp when at last, Robert took his cock in his mouth with firm, slow sucking movements. He moved his hips experimentively, and started to smile when his movements weren't inhibited. Another minute passed, then Simon realised he was no longer moving, because Robert now held his hips in a strong grip. And what's more, Robert was paying him back by slowing down to, Simon could swear if he was counting--which he was not, two strokes per minute. Simon's fingers gripped the bedsheets more tightly, and perversely wished that he'd worn a shorter skirt tonight.

By the time Robert satisfied himself on doing a decent job, Simon's cock ached fiercely, and he trembled visibly from the effort of maintaining his position. Robert backed out and finally arranged himself behind Simon. Simon whimpered slightly with the anticipation.

"Did you enjoy that?" Robert was solicitous, as if he'd just offered Simon cream or sugar for his tea.

Simon worked to take a calming breath.

"Yes, very much," he grated back as politely as he could. You wanker, he privately added.

Robert chuckled as if he read Simon's mind. He reached around with one hand and trailed seductively down Simon's chest hairs, pressing hard against Simon as he did so. Simon wanted to sob.

"Robert, please..."

Simon felt the bed shift slightly as Robert moved, presumably, to slip a condom on. Then he felt the back of his skirt being pushed up, and he sucked in breath as the tip of Robert's cock rested against him. Simon didn't want to keep holding back. He leaned slightly down and back into Robert, hearing a sharp intake of breath. It was enough. Simon felt as if he were being mounted, the way Robert gripped his hips and entered him. He released the breath he wasn't aware he held, in a deep groan, arching back to get as much of Robert as he possibly could.

"Greedy...aren't we?" The slight mocking sound in Robert's voice might've been more effective, if it didn't shake with barely controlled desire.

"I don't hear you denying it," Simon shot back, his voice a breathy rasp.

Robert gave a growl and thrust himself deeply into Simon. Withdrew, and drove them both harder, increasing the pace. He paused long enough to wipe the sweat from his hands on the bedsheets. It almost didn't matter, so slick were they both.

Simon's limbs burned, but this time with exquisite pleasure, as he matched the steady rhythm of Robert driving into him over and over again. Once when he raised a hand to wipe the sweat burning into his eyes, it nearly upset their balance, so Simon lowered his face into the sheets instead. Robert felt so good inside him, Simon thought, groaning continously now. He could just hear Robert's own groans over the blood rushing through him. Simon knew they were both close to orgasm again. They had come close several times, but Robert had prolonged it, pulling back then rebuilding the tension. Just as Simon thought Robert was going to pull back for another maddening round, he felt Robert reach around with a hand to stroke his cock and his breath hitched. He felt Robert withdraw, his body at breaking point.

"Come on...horsie," Robert whispered.

And thrust.

Simon's every pore sweated out white fire, as he came. His very blood sang as waves of heat rolled over him, and touched Robert who half screamed as he came, still thrusting, inside Simon. His limbs too shaky to support Robert on top of him, Simon lowered them down to lie on their sides, keeping Robert inside him. Robert gave him a small thrust for his efforts.

"Ahhh..." Simon shuddered.

Long moments later, after the two friends had caught their breath, Simon turned to Robert with a wry look.

"Horsie?"

Robert shrugged, saying nothing.

"Next time you wear the skirt," Simon suggested. Robert leaned close and kissed him.

"Okay, but can I still call you horsie?"

Simon looked at him askance, then laughed seeing Robert's mouth twitch. "You're kidding...you are kidding, right?" But Robert had gathered him close and kissed him again, blue-grey eyes lit in amusement. They continued like that for some time.