Current mood:

weird

number one on my list of things to do (bandom, jepha/dan, used!gsf)
Title: Number one on my list of things to do
Author: Jess (swear_jar).
Rating: R.
Pairing(s)/character(s): Jepha/Dan, GSF.
Notes: This is pretty much your mom jokes and porn. I’m not sure it has any particular redeeming features. I’m… sorry. visionofblue deserves many awesome things for cheerleading when I needed it. Title from "Yo Mama" by Aussie hip hop act Butterfingers (so offensive, so awesome).
Summary: Jepha would just kind of like a gangbang is all.

---

They're all on tour bus time, counting the seconds by every second, third, fourth bump of the wheels. Jepha comes out of the tiny bathroom stroking his newly trimmed facial hair. It takes a while, but you get used to shaving on a moving bus. The others just don’t do it, wait for venue or hotel bathrooms, but Jepha takes it as a challenge. He’s nearly got it down to an art. No nicks this time.

Jepha runs into Bert as Bert tumbles out of his bunk, still wearing his glasses and blinking with his face sleep puffy, with one big crease down his cheek like he'd fallen asleep on the spine of a book he was reading.

"Movember?" Jepha offers.

"November?" Bert asks, blinking sleepily confused at the lower half of Jepha’s face.

"Movember," Jepha explains, pointing at his lip. "The month of mo's?"

"It's fucking horrible,” Bert blink again and then grins slowly, “I'm gonna grow one."

Jepha laughs.

"I'm kissing you now," Bert makes grabby hands, arms zombied out in front of him and Jepha laughs again even though Bert is clearly not joking. Bert's lips are on his a moment later, a quick and kind of wetly thorough kiss just a little too much too fast, a little morning-breath even though it’s three in the afternoon. Bert’s kisses are the kind of kisses that make you feel wanted, loved. Bert's stubble scratches against the fresh pink bare parts of Jepha's face in a way that's familiar, but at the same time completely different where it rubs against his stubbly moustache. Jepha wonders if the pot smoke and vaguely stale just awake taste on Bert's breath will cling to the hair. "Mmmmph," Bert mumbles, talking even before their lips are parted. "Quinn!" Bert yells, making Jepha jump a little at the volume. It's impossible to get used to unexpected Bert-volume shouting at close range, even the relatively quiet kind, which is still approximately three times the volume of regular yelling.

"Inside voice, Bert," Jepha says, wincing. Bert is smiling at Jepha with his head tilted to one side. Bert shrugs, not sorry at all. Quinn's actually only a few meters away in the bus lounge, can’t actually be more than a few meters away anywhere on the bus, but since Bert can't actually see him from where he and Jepha are standing, bunks looming on all sides and curtains drawn at both ends, Bert yells. Not at the top of his lungs, thankfully, because Jepha's had Bert scream full volume near his head more than once and if he wasn't already concert-deaf that would have done it.

"What!" Quinn yells from the lounge and Jepha laughs because Quinn sounds almost as loud as Bert.

"Com--" Jepha slaps his hand over Bert's mouth, ready and resigned to having his palm licked. Which Bert does. Lasciviously, more than once. Jepha shivers but doesn't let go. If having Bert's spit on him was all it took to send him packing, well. Bert smirks against his palm.

"Quinn, I think Bert would like to speak to you," Jepha says at regular volume, as he shuffles Bert backwards into the lounge, keeping his hand on Bert's mouth.

Quinn is standing fiddling with the Wii cords and the TV, but moves up and plasters himself against Bert's back when they shuffle in, peering over his head with a quirked eyebrow. Quinn's eyes open wide. He points at Jepha, "Jepha! Something furry died on your face!" His eyebrows up high and his voice bitchy mock-horrified like he hasn't noticed the beard Jepha's been cultivating for weeks, until Jepha has shaved it into his (totally beautiful) moustache.

"Quinn! Suck my dick!" Jepha replies cheerfully, widening his eyes and pointing back at Quinn.

"I'd never kissed anyone with a moustache, and I just did and it was fucking weird as fuck," Bert says. "You should do it."

"Okay, do I get a say in this?" Jepha asks.

"Nope," Bert says.

Quinn shrugs, but reaches over Bert's shoulders slow enough Jepha could dodge away if he wanted to. Quinn pecks him on the lips and then pulls away looking thoughtful. Bert cranes his head up and looks at him. Quinn looks down at Bert. "Hm," Quinn says, faux-thoughtful, then leans forward again and kisses Jepha for a little longer, not opening his mouth, just a gentle movement of lips. Bert is pressed between them, not moving to get away, not moving at all, just quiet and still. "That is pretty weird," he concludes.

"I told you so!" Bert says from between them, triumphantly, at the same time as Dan chimes in:

"You're telling me," Dan says from the couch. Jepha glances over at him and laughs at his wide eyed expression. It's mostly exaggerated, but there’s definitely something behind it. “Looks cooler than the beard though.” Dan adds.

"See?" Bert says, sounding smug.

"You've kissed a guy with a moustache before," Quinn says with his lips pressed against the top of Bert's head, mumbling with his nose mashed into Bert’s matted hair.

"No fucking way," Bert says.

"Fucking yes way. You don't remember," Quinn says.

Bert opens his mouth, then closes it. "Okay," he finally settles on, because Quinn's probably not even messing with him, then turns around between Jepha and Quinn so he's looking up at Quinn, who still hasn't dropped his arms from resting over Bert's shoulders. "Okay, you must play Mario with me right now, or I’m going to piss in your shoes," Bert says. “Seriously, all of them.”

Bert spins around and kisses Jepha again.

Jepha raises an eyebrow.

"For luck. I figure it's like rubbing a bald guy's head or Buddha's tummy,” Bert says.

Jepha shrugs. Makes sense. Bert sense. He takes a step back and flops down on the couch next to Dan.

Quinn lobs a controller towards Jepha and it lands in his lap, so close to hitting him in the balls he winces. He gives Quinn the finger even though Quinn’s ignoring him.

Dan's already got a Wiimote in hand. He leans over and pecks Jepha's lips.

"Uhm?" Jepha says, because, what? "Wait, what was that for?"

"Bert can't have all the luck," Dan shrugs, smiling.

Jepha restrains himself from offering more luck, or asking how much luck it'd be if Dan let Jepha blow him right here in the lounge, Bert and Quinn half a foot away-- except Dan kisses him again. Which derails the fantasy because it’s actually happening…? Jepha opens his eyes to find Dan not actually continuing to kiss him, just staring at him smiling kind of stupidly, waiting for Jepha to come back to earth.

"... What was that one for then?" Jepha asks, hoping his eyes haven't gone crossed or anything else that would show how stupid he's currently feeling, because there’s not really any way Dan hasn’t noticed the massive pause where Jepha’s brain was playing catch up to reality.

"All the cool kids were doing it. I just wanna fit in, man," Dan says, dragging out the ‘man’ to epic, stoner dude proportions.

"Sorry," Jepha says, and rests a hand consolingly on Dan's solid shoulder, "you're not one of the cool kids around here until you've had Bert's bodily fluids on you. That's the real initiation for this gang," Jepha says.

"Does saliva count?" Dan asks. "He kissed me last weekend," and in a conspiratorial whisper Dan adds, "I think he might have been drunk."

Jepha laughs.

A minor scuffle breaks out between Bert and Quinn over the Mario Kart wheel.

"Doesn't count," Jepha says. “We don’t want to make it too easy to get in.”

Dan kisses him. Again. Jepha tells his brain to shut the fuck up and asks it to pass the message along to his dick, please. This is nothing, this is just Dan fucking around. By kissing him. With Bert and Quinn about a foot away. It was… just a kissing kind of day. These things happened.

"What was that for?"

"That one was a bribe. Am I in with the cool kids now?"

"I'll have to think about it," Jepha says, because he is cool as a cucumber.

"I can make it worth your while," Dan says, trying to raise one eyebrow but failing and getting both, which is ridiculous and endearing and Jepha should probably not feel his dick twitch when Dan’s fingers circle all the way around his wrist gently.

"Jepha and Dan are now demonstrating how the males of the species include lines they picked up from bad porn in their mating rituals." Quinn says, into what Jepha only then realises is a weird, random silence.

"Crikey! Let's stick around and wait for the hardcore ass fucking to start, mates!" Bert giggles his way through an abysmal Crock Hunter impression. Quinn highfives Bert and laughs.

"I guess you should stop borrowing from Quinn's porn stash, Dan, it's given you some sub-standard lines," Jepha says sadly, shaking his head and shaking Dan’s fingers off his wrist at the same time.

"Because the standard of dialogue in Chicks with Dicks four is so much higher?" Quinn shoots back.

"I don't know what came over me," Dan says. "I think it's the moustache."

"I think I should have grown this moustache months ago," Jepha says sincerely.

Dan smiles crookedly at Jepha, then turns back to the screen to choose Waluigi from the character screen. It takes a while for Jepha to tune back in to the room around him. He shakes his head to clear it of Dan related mental images (to be filed under Fantasy Number One: drummers arms would be good for holding people down, but it would be even easier with the help of a guitarist and a singer). Jepha picks King Boo, because King Boo is obviously the most awesome.

Bert and Quinn are talking about who they'd fuck if Peach wasn't in the Mario series (Bert decrees her too obvious). Quinn says Luigi and Bert says Bowser, which turns into Quinn calling Bert a sick bestiality loving fuck, which turns into the game being paused and Bert jumping on Quinn and attempting to pin him down and convince him it'd only be bestiality if he'd said Yoshi, because Bowser is sentient and talks and everything.

"But what about Donkey Kong?" Dan asks, completely deadpan. "What about Donkey Kong?" He shakes his head despairingly.

"I'm pretty sure Yoshi's sentient," Jepha adds, "he just doesn't speak English."

"Bert, it's not my fault you want to fuck some sweet Koopa tail. If you have a turtle kink, it's okay, I'll still lo-- ow, fuck!" Quinn’s eyes actually water as Bert yanks his head to the side.

"No pulling hair, Bert," Jepha says. Bert bites Quinn's shoulder instead.

"Is there something about you and moustaches you'd care to share with the group, Quinn? Luigi, making out with Jeph, what the fuck," Bert mumbles into Quinn’s spit wet shirt.

"You said you'd fuck Bowser, is there something about you and fucking reptiles you'd like to share?" Quinn shoots back, hand wrapped in the back of Bert’s hair.

"No, but there's something about me and fucking your mom--"

"Shut up," Quinn says, flipping them so Bert is under him.

"--she loves it up the ass--"

Quinn attempts to cover Bert's mouth with his hand.

"Felching!" Bert gets out with a cracked giggle. "Ass to mouth--"

"I'll give you ass to mouth," Quinn says, still struggling to cover Bert's mouth with his hand.

Bert barks out a laugh and goes limp, chest jolting with giggles. Quinn shakes with laughter on top of him, falling limp down against him, chest to chest. "You promise?" Bert snorts.

"I didn't mean. What the fuck ever," Quinn says.

"I promise I'll kick your ass at Mario Kart if you two are done making out now?" Jepha says. Not that watching Bert and Quinn is like the worst view on earth, but he needs his quality gaming time, and Dan’s leg is pressed all against his, so he also needs to be distracted and not climb into Dan’s lap.

"Losers drink," Dan says and glances at the table. There’s a random selection of glasses that are all degrees of dirty, fingerprint smudged and sticky. He lines up a random four, none of which are actual shot glasses, on the edge of the table.

"Aw, that's not fair at all. You're all going to be puking while I'm still sober," Quinn declares.

"In your dreams," Bert says, scrambling for a good spot on the couch.

"Up your ass," Quinn shoots back.

Dan quietly fetches the vodka from the freezer, and fills the three glasses with rough shots. He places them deliberately in front of Jepha, Quinn and Bert, and leaves his empty. "Bring it, bitches."

Jepha doesn’t really believe in psychic ability and all that shit, but the idea of unmeasured shots is kind of making him see visions of hugging a toilet in his future. The visions don’t go away when Quinn jumps up and gets beers out of the fridge, lining them up behind the glasses.

---

The problem with the game, Jepha has discovered, is the more you lose the more you drink the less you care about losing thus spend more time just randomly pouring yourself drinks because you know you're not paying enough attention and are going to lose so you might as well take that shot now and then maybe the next one cause you're going to lose that too.

That's the problem, really, in a nutshell. He thinks. That and Bert is the most distracting person to play video games with on earth. See, Bert likes the idea of sitting around playing way more than actually doing it and never actually seems to remember that.

"Cock! Cock, cock, cock," Bert is chanting for reasons Jepha can't remember, but it seems to make sense to Bert that cock is the only word he can use to distract Quinn and Dan. Bert is losing too, and has given up on actually trying to win in favour of just trying to make everyone else lose, unlike Jepha, who has given up on trying to win in favour of trying to make himself pass out. Bert slumps over Quinn, who jerks his Wiimote arm up and sends Luigi off-road for a moment to avoid being trapped. Bert reaches up and, stretched across Quinn's lap, licks Dan's neck, long and slow and sloppy. Dan doesn't flinch and sends Waluigi to victory. Again. Dan's Bert tolerance has gotten freakishly high, freakishly fast. Jepha is deeply impressed.

"Fucking cock!" Quinn yells, throwing his remote at Bert, hard. Quinn and Dan were really the only ones left playing, Jepha long since slumped against Dan's side after fucking up the first few races enough he was too tipsy to get back on a winning streak. Fucking Quinn had stolen his wheel and he totally can’t play without it. Fucking Quinn who is currently both pouting and glaring at Bert, an expression that Jepha has watched Quinn perfect gradually over the years.

Bert narrows his eyes and holds his hand to his chest where the Wii-remote-wheel bounced off. There’s a moment of silent, squinty eye contact.

Bert cracks first and crash tackles Quinn off the couch.

Jepha laughs way too loud.

Quinn rolls Bert under him almost immediately, used to Bert’s cling-like-monkey-strategy and not even bothering to try and dislodge him, instead going with the “crush him until he gives up” strategy. Bert flails under Quinn and curses him loudly—until Quinn kisses him, which shuts Bert up and flips some Bert switch so his hands go from attempting to shove Quinn's arms away from him to one hand in Quinn's hair, the other stroking Quinn's neck, his whole body rolling in a way that's no longer anything like he's trying to buck Quinn off him.

Jepha giggles at them, then slumps down further into the couch and into Dan’s side, which is softer than it looks, or he’s drunker than he thinks, whatever, he is obscenely comfortable. The room spins a little and he’s so drunk relaxed that he nearly slides limply off the couch, just because the floor looks appealingly stable.

Dan hauls him back up by the armpits and kisses him, hand on the back of Jepha’s head, gently tangled in his hair.

"What was that one for?"

"One for the road."

"You ever going to run out of answers for that?"

"Want to find out?" Dan says, and smiles.

Jepha feels abruptly tired. He can't do this now, drunk off his ass and horny, with Quinn and Bert making out on the floor-- it's not even that he hasn't made out with someone in the same room as Bert and Quinn doing their thing. It's not even than he doesn't want to make out with someone in the same room as Bert and Quinn. Because he does. And it’s maybe that—that he really does want that. It's just that… he's really drunk off his ass. Jepha feels his head spin and watches the world take another trip around him, the roof of the bus and Dan’s face above him orbiting his skull, and thinks, fuck it, maybe he'll just sleep here, head in Dan's lap. He tries to slump forward, forgets Dan's hand is tangled in his hair and he jerks his head back up before Dan pulls out too many hairs, eyes wide, mouth open.

Dan sucks in a hissed breath. "Sorry, sorry," he says, and gently unwraps his fingers from Jepha's hair. "Are you awake? I thought you just passed out man, sorry,"

Bert abruptly giggles from the floor and Jepha jerks his head towards him, Bert's scooted up to sit on Quinn's stomach, Quinn letting out a heavy oofing breath. Bert laughs again like he's just heard the funniest joke in the world and grabs a chunk of the front of Jepha's hair, drunk enough to be just too rough on Jepha's neck as he drags his head back. Jepha's eyes sting abruptly with the pain.

"Don't worry about it," Bert says, still laughing, "Jeph likes that."

And Jepha would maybe not want to have some of his kinks outed quite so indelicately, but as it is he just moans in agreement because there's nothing else he can do, practically in Dan's lap, did he mention drunk off his ass? Being held on the couch by Dan's strong, implacable hands and pulled the other way by Bert's hand fisted in his hair. If Dan's going to let them do this, and Bert and Quinn are there ready and dry humping on the floor, Jepha's nearly hard at the thought.

"Really," Dan says, low and calm and vaguely questioning, like he's just been told his shoelace is untied, not like he realises he’s just been offered Jepha on a plate. A big plate with Jepha hogtied naked in the middle. And Bert and Quinn dancing naked around the edges, throwing parsley and handcuffs for garnish. Jepha is really quite drunk. "Really."

It's not a question the second time, but Bert answers anyway by dropping Jepha's hair and slapping Jepha hard on the ass before Quinn tips him off balance.

"Reall--" Bert's cut off with a giggle and a thud as Quinn shoves himself up in his elbows, dislodging Bert.

"Fucking heavy as fuck," Quinn says and pins Bert under him, one hand on each wrist, "fat fuck."

"Hey," Bert says, too quietly, eyes narrowed.

Quinn kisses him on the stomach. Bert smiles. Jepha lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and his head spins, but that could be from holding his breath, but it's probably just the alcohol. He's not sure if he's disappointed or relieved Bert and Quinn are distracted with each other (as usual).

When Jepha takes his eyes off Bert struggling half hearted and giggly under Quinn, Dan is looking at him.

Jepha leans forward first, eyes sliding shut, but he jerks to a stop when he realises Dan’s hand is wrapped into the back of his hair again. Dan’s fingers curl tight against the back of Jepha’s head and he pulls Jepha backwards as he leans in, bending Jepha over until Jepha can't breathe evenly, feet under his ass and back approaching a painful angle, even though he's pretty flexible-- and then he kisses him, just then, and it’s a second before his lips are gone, Jepha groans and wants to chase Dan’s lips, but Dan drops his grip of Jepha's hair abruptly and Jepha nearly rolls off the couch and brains himself on the table, hands scrabbling at the cushions.

"What was that one for?" Jepha asks, when he’s finally sure he’s stable again. Giddy, but stable.

"Testing," Dan replies. "Better leave them to it, yeah?" Dan says, flicking his eyes at Bert and Quinn, still half-wrestling-half-giggling-half-making out on the floor, which is three halves Jepha realises but it’s Bert and Quinn so whatever.

Jepha doesn't say that really, it's okay. Doesn't say he'd kind of just like to stay here. Or maybe even roll them off the couch to the floor, press his thigh against Bert's legs and wrap his hand in Bert's, letting Quinn hold them both down, Dan on top of him. Kiss Bert sloppy, wet, drunk like they both are, messier than it would be with Dan or Quinn, who are that little bit more sober. He just closes his eyes and breathes deeply, concentrating on keeping himself upright as he sways to his feet, because he is seriously, really, too drunk for this.

--

Drunk. So so so so so drunk. Maybe even still a little drunk. Cursing the lack of bathroom floor to sprawl out on. He wants to be flat out on cool, soothing tiles so badly.

Oh crap. And Dan. And drunk. So drunk. And kissing... and nearly group sex? Oh God, not again. Cunting fuck-knuckle.

Jepha's stomach flips when he thinks about breakfast-- half because he's starving, half because he's possibly going to puke. Maybe a little because breakfast means lounge means Dan means... means an unknown factor. Jepha's not even sure what reaction he wants. Ideally none until he doesn't feel like he's been beaten up by alcohol. Mental images of beefy guys in beer-bottle costumes dance angrily around in his head. And his guts. With... tentacles… and... badness. Loud, stompy dancing.

"Shhh," Jepha hisses. Possibly still a bit drunk, maybe. Jepha rests his cheek against the sink and a bit of drool escapes the side of his mouth. Oh yeah, definitely going to--

When Jepha pulls his head out of the toilet, finally, he rests his cheek against the sink again. It's worth the effort, there's no way he's letting his head drop on the toilet edge. At least the sink is relatively clean. Ish.

"Out out out!" Bert's banging on the door hard enough Jepha would do pretty much anything to get him to stop, so he opens the door and nearly catches Bert's fist in his face.

"Out!" Bert says again and Jepha stares at him silently for a second. Jepha maybe looks as bad as he feels, because Bert frowns. "Out," he says again, a little quieter, more kindly. Gestures to the bathroom kind of apologetically. He stumbles past Bert, rubbing his whole face with his hand, feeling crusty and disgusting and he didn't even get to brush his teeth, fuck.

... Fuck, or flush. Whatever, Bert deserves it for kicking him out.

---

Unbrushed teeth and puke and he tips his head towards his underarm, Jesus, sweating out some toxic shit seriously, to smell it over the top of the stale-alcohol of the lounge. Can no one open a fucking window in here? It smells fucking toxic. He shoves every window he can get to open. Sometimes Jeph misses Branden simply because he doesn't have that clean, shiny place to hide in when the party bus turns into a shithole and he doesn't want to be the one cleaning it... and oh, hello, there's Dan, hat pulled down low in the front, slouched down on the couch with the laptop on his thighs.

"Mmhmm" Jepha says, not wanting to even open his gross mouth, pretty sure comic book waves of green stench would wiggle out into the air. Possibly a lone fly would buzz around his head.

"Urrgh. Ugh!" Dan replies in cave man speak. "Jepha wake up, me pleased."

If there was going to be any awkwardness, now would be the time, but Jepha hasn't actually got the energy to be awkward, not in the face of this hangover and Dan acting completely normal.

“Ugh,” Dan grunts, tilts his chin upwards at Jepha and grins.

Jepha laughs a little and then groans because ow. Ow ow, his head. "Ow," Jepha says carefully, sticky dry lips peeling apart.

"You injured! Dan fix!" Dan stands up and pushes his hat up a little, out of his eyes. He looks disturbingly fresh and awake and bright eyed. Jepha remembers Dan hadn't really drank as much as he had-- at least way less shots, which after the beer, were totally Jepha's downfall. What's the rule about mixing drinks again? He can never remember it.

"There's nothing you can do for me now. Go on without me," Jepha says, sitting down on the couch. "And take me with you."

Dan moves off to the kitchen and comes back with a plate of toast and a huge water bottle, squatting down in front of Jepha and offering them to him with stretched out arms and a monkey-like oooh-ooh.

"Oh God," Jepha says, and his mouth waters again but probably not because he's going to puke, he's not entirely sure, but he's so hungry and he could just about CRY at how awesome Dan is. "I owe you," he's not awake enough for making words, seriously, "something. Gimme."

Dan’s back up on his feet. He flips his hat around backwards, flyaway hair sticking out weirdly, and leans in to peck Jepha's lips.

"What was that for?" Jepha asks again, stomach flipping not at all sickly. He looks at Dan, ridiculous backwards hat and crooked grin.

"I just really wanted to know if you'd thrown up today or not," Dan laughs, screws up his eyes for a second and wipes his mouth, but doesn't actually look as disgusted as he should. "Just, this is okay right?"

"No." Jepha says, struggling to keep his face blank. Dan's smile slides off his face in slow motion. "Not until I brush my teeth." Because Jepha is NOT Bert and he draws the line at kissing after puking. Dan's face flips from blank to a laugh so fast it's ridiculous.

---

So Jepha's jerking off and hazily thinking about Dan: it's Dan hands holding him down, Dan fucking him, fucking his ass, his mouth, wet and deep enough-- Jepha can't breath can't breathe and then Bert is there too, whispering filthy things in Jeph's ears and Quinn is there, jerking off, jerking off close to Jepha's face, close enough the head of his cock brushes over where Dan's dick is slipping between Jepha's wet lips, slicks and wet and stretching Jepha's jaw. It hurts and Jepha's barely getting enough air not to be dizzy, he feels dizzy, so dizzy--

Jepha comes.

Jepha half heartedly thinks, uh-oh, but can't really muster any horror at his suddenly bad bad-wrong fantasy life (the bad-wrong is not the Dan thing, he’s pretty sure it’s acceptable to fantasise about the guy you’re fucking around with, and it’s not the rough sex thing, Jepha’s pretty well over giving a fuck about that, that’s just him, it’s the thing where he got off on the idea of his whole band fucking him), because he's pretty sure he just came his actual brains out.

So he doesn't worry about it until later, when he's blinking awake in the darkness and the first thing he sees is Dan's big, sticky out, intense dark eyes, right there, looming over him, hand over Jepha's mouth, and Bert half climbing over Dan’s back, peering over his broad shoulders with his eyelids at half mast, looking flushed and wet-mouthed. “Shh," Bert says-- Jepha's first thought is so abruptly pornographic he feels himself blushing.

It's insane. He doesn't blush.

"It's time to steal Quinn's socks. We're making a kite to fly out the back of the bus,” Bert says, giggling.

Dan wiggles his eyebrows, leans down to peck Jepha on the lips, Bert still clinging to his back and nearly falling into the bunk with another cracked laugh, half choking air as he tries to keep from waking up Quinn.

Jepha shakes his head free of porn, laughs, and goes to steal some socks.

---

It’s about a week later and Jepha emerges from the bathroom rubbing his finger over his bare upper lip. It feels like when he'd shaved his dreads off, he couldn't stop running his hands over his head for weeks. Neither could Bert, or really, anyone else.

He emerges into the lounge with a flourish and a ta-da! Which is met by a slow clap by Quinn and a smile by Dan and complete ignorance by Bert, who doesn't actually look up from his book, headphones in his ears.

"So I have deduced that we don't kiss Jepha every time he changes his hair?" Dan asks, stroking an invisible beard, pulling an invisible pipe from his mouth and elaborately tapping it out against the table.

Bert suddenly appears to be able to hear over his music, and glances up. "Nah, I've kissed Jeph without a moustache." Dan raises both eyebrows and Quinn shrugs.

Jepha feels a twinge of disappointment and wants to smack himself in the face, seriously. Because it wasn't like a sane person would have been hoping for anything else, here-- dumb. Ass. Shaving will not be the catalyst for an inter band orgy. Hardy-har.

"You too?" Dan asks Quinn.

"How long have you been in this band now, Dan?" Quinn asks.

Dan pauses thoughtfully: "About as long as I've been fucking your Mom, I guess," he says.

Bert whoops and leans over Quinn to smack a kiss on the nearest part of Dan, the shirt on his upper arm a little damply stained by Bert's lips.

Jepha shakes his head and makes his way back to the bunks, really trying not to think about Bert kissing Dan. About the three of them. About how he might be able to sneak jerking off in his bunk, totally not thinking about their hands over him, holding him down. Dan follows him when he shuffles out.

Dan crowds up behind him and Jepha tilts his head back and says, “hi.”

“Hi,” Dan says, smiling. He hooks his pinky finger through Jepha's earring and tugs, very very gently, but steadily. Jepha tilts his head into Dan's hand automatically, and he shivers. "So was Bert just being an ass the other night, or am I right and you have a thing about getting hurt?" God, Dan is just good.

"Try me," Jepha says, and abruptly flashes back on Dan answering him, before they’d started this. What was that for? Testing. Just testing. "Fuck, Dan," like he’s begging already.

Dan pushes until Jepha’s face is pressed against the wall, his cheek against the divider between the top and bottom bunks, Dan pressed all along his back.

"How about 'Dan fuck'?" Dan asks right up against his ear, sounding goofy-casual, not like he’s holding Jepha still with one arm, not like his other hand is wrapped around Jepha's dick, hard, not like he's making Jepha hyperventilate.

Jepha would laugh at that, but Dan's still pressing him there, immovable, so he just groans what he sincerely hopes sounds something like an affirmative, because yes, he wants it. Dan fucking him, Dan holding him down. He'd wanted it since he'd met Dan and shook his hand, tight grip and big strong, drum and work callused hands, and he’s wanted it more than he actually thought he could since Dan had kissed him and asked him if this was okay-- fuck yes, this is okay.

---

Jepha's fucking Dan, riding him with his wrists locked in Dan’s grip. Dan is balls deep inside him. There’s no resting his legs, Jepha’s thighs burn with every movement. Jepha groans when Dan has to reposition himself, his fingers tight on Jepha’s wrists and slipping a little with sweat. And Jepha can't stop thinking, even with the burn of his wrists and thighs and the slap of skin, he can’t stop thinking about fucking them all. Or more accurately: them all fucking him.

It's okay though, ignoring the guilt, because it's not like he has to, or ever will, tell anyone about it.

So it's okay. He just won't talk.

---

“--I mean, not with random guys, with you and, you guys— I guess the word gangbang would kind of be technically correct? It’s not like. Fuck. I just want it fucking bad, you know?“

The second it's out of Jepha's mouth, mushy and a little bit lispy drunk, Jepha wants to smack his head against a wall. Stupid Dan and his stupid innocent questions and his forcing Jepha to spill his deepest darkest secrets with his brownies and his eyes and his words and his... beer. And his eyes. Dan eyes. And arms. Dan arms. Drummer’s arms. It's so clearly unfair.

Jepha’s on Dan’s lap, back against Dan’s chest, so he can’t even see Dan’s expression. Dan's hand is on his upper thigh, calluses against denim and a fingerspan that comes almost half around Jepha's leg, holding and stroking right there. Long fingers. Dan’s doesn’t say anything, but his fingers keep moving. Jepha licks his lips. His mouth is dry, feels like carpet but tastes like chocolate and beer. “It’s just, it’s you guys—“ Jepha starts, because Dan still hasn’t said anything, is just petting Jepha and listening, but he snaps his mouth shut as Quinn walks in.

“Who guys?” Quinn asks vaguely, coming into the lounge and stopping with his eyes on the empty brownie pan on the table. Jepha snaps his mouth shut, and thinks, fuck. Quinn doesn’t even ask though. “You seriously—“ Quinn’s mouth twitches, and his eyebrows twitch and settle in a forced frown, his expression a ridiculous combination of half-smile and angry eyebrows, “did you eat that whole pan?” Quinn nearly chokes on the last word, trying to keep a straight face. “Bert made those,” Quinn finally gets out, laughter coming after it, “all of them—“, and he practically bends double, eyes screwed up and gasping laughter.

Jepha blinks. Because. That makes sense. He does feel a bit baked.

“I do feel a bit baked,” he manages to get his tongue around. He’s not exactly sure if he thought it or said it first.

“Baked,” Dan snickers into the back of his neck. “Brownies.”

“Bert is going to be pissed at you, Dan,” Dan shifts behind Jepha, shrugging and Jepha can feel every bit of him shift through fabric and fabric, into his back and his ass and his thighs. Dan presses his hot face against Jepha’s back, warm breath coming damp through the cotton. He mumbles something Jepha doesn’t catch.

“I’m going to tell Bert, right now,” Quinn says, still crinkle-eyed with aftershocks of minor snorting, eyes wet and shining. He disappears into the bunk area, hollering Bert’s name in a way that only he can get away with, especially if Bert is napping.

Bert comes through the curtains a second later, herded by Quinn. Bert actually looks kind of annoyed—maybe because he just woke up, maybe because they have eaten his stash, but he stops and looks at them and just laughs, a short bark and then a giggle, his hand over his mouth, super-girly and polite looking, if you couldn’t hear that his laughter actually sounded kind of unbalanced, as usual.

“Sorry,” Dan says, and his face is still mushed against Jepha’s back.

“Wait, what?” Jepha asks, because what?

“Whatever,” Bert says. Jepha clicks that Dan wasn’t actually talking to him. Can’t even bring himself to care when Quinn ruffles his hair condescendingly, messing it up. “Did they taste alright?” Bert asks, because he is on a cooking kick from hell, and no one ever believes Jepha, but he’s actually really good—and pot brownies Bert has had down pat for years, anyway.

“Yup,” Dan says.

Bert tucks his hair behind his ear, bashfully pleased with himself.

“Seriously,” Jepha adds, because he likes complimenting Bert.

“I owe you,” Dan says to Bert, “you can drink my beer,” he gestures over Jepha’s shoulder to the vague area of the fridge.

An hour later, Bert’s maybe more stoned then Jepha, if Jepha doesn’t count the second hand smoke, and Quinn and Bert have literally drank all of Dan’s beer and arranged the empty bottles across the table. Quinn clinks them a few times with a mysterious sticky spoon that had been wedged between the cough cushion and the wall, then hands the spoon over to Bert, who solemnly takes it and makes it his mission in life to get something musical out of the empties. Bert is laughing as they alternately make up rhyming lyrics and Quinn fucks around on the guitar accompanying. It’s kind of an unholy racket.

“If those bottles make it onto the album,” Jepha starts, but he’s not really sure where he’s going with that, because really, it’s no worse than pots and pans or the throwing shit at Bert to produce interesting noises. Quinn looks up from his noodling.

“What, what are you interrupting my amazing riffage for?” Quinn asks, leaning forward so his face is practically against Jepha’s, squinting.

Jepha lets himself falls sideways a bit, laughs, and there’s a crash as he shifts his foot and knocks all the bottles over, left over beer dripping onto the table as they roll around.

"You fucking floral scented douche." Quinn says, and tries to stop all the bottles rolling off the table at once, long arms hemming them in on two sides, with not very much success.

Quinn can just shut up, Jepha decides. It’s not like he meant to kick over their amazing new toy. "If there were an olympics for douches, a fucking, douche-lympics? You should smash the world record for douche-y-ness. At the... aforementioned, hey, I'm less drunk than I thought, the aforementioned douche-lympics," Jepha counters. Slowly. But seriously, it's possible a bit of the buzz has worn off, at least, he can say words that have so very many syllables now.

"BZZT!" Dan makes a buzzer noise, "Jeph wins."

"BZZT!" Bert buzzes back, "fuck off. As secondary judge, I have to say Quinn's douche was better."

"Quinn's douche?" Jepha laughs, then everyone kind of snickers.

"Don't laugh, I heard your Mom uses my brand," Quinn says.

"Hung jury? We're so fucked," Jepha adds.

"You know what else is fucked?" Quinn asks. "Your mom."

"Your Mom jokes are so over-done,” Jepha says. Seriously. Seriously, they are.

"Like your Mom," Bert supplies.

"Can't we move onto something more... more, sophisticated?" Jepha thinks, fuck, his drunk talking skills are amazing.

"See, that's what I said--" Dan says. Jepha opens his mouth to say thank you, except Dan continues, "-- to your Mom. When I dumped her last night."

Quinn looks suitably impressed, and high-fives Dan. Bert laughs.

Quinn leans forward to pat Jepha’s knee in consolation and squint drunken happy at him. “If it helps, she’s a really great lay,” he says, and smiles drunk and squinty at Jepha.

Dan shifts up and stretches to lick down the side of Jepha’s neck. Jepha practically has an aneurysm trying to stop his hips from pushing up towards Quinn’s chest where he’s still there, leaning over, or back into Dan’s lap. Dan… totally did that on purpose. Jepha remembers, oh, telling Dan he kind of wanted to fuck the hell out of the whole band. Fuck.

Jepha squirms a little in Dan’s lap, pushing his ass into Dan’s crotch, and Dan’s hand tightens on his thigh kind of hard. Ha, take that, Jepha thinks. Then, oh wait, this isn’t helping at all—except. It kind of is. For certain values of help. Because Dan’s hand hasn’t actually relaxed and Jepha will possibly, probably, god, hopefully, have fingertip shaped bruises on his inner thigh, the pressure just starting to burn, hard enough Jepha can feel Dan’s barely there nails blunt little slices though denim, and Jepha’s eyes are slipping closed.

Quinn and Bert have gotten quieter. Jepha decides he is too stoned to care that this is weird, and lets his head fall back on Dan’s shoulder, his mouth falling open. Dan’s free hand creeps up and strokes Jepha’s neck, his thumb rubbing from Jepha’s Adam’s apple, to choke and back.

He’s so hard by the time Dan excuses them, Jeph can’t get his mouth off of Dan to say anything himself.

Dan stands up with Jepha still on his lap, Jepha clings instinctively, arms going to Dan's neck, legs tight around his waist, Dan's hands slipping under his ass to hold him up. Jepha's dizzy from the sudden lurch upwards. That, and how there's no longer any blood left in his upper body.

He comes so hard practically the second that his back hits the mattress, Bert and Quinn’s silence (they hadn’t even said a word) fresh in his mind. Dan dumps him into his bunk, hard, and he bounces dizzyingly, the small space moving around him with his eyes closed, his head light and everything sensitive and tingling, he wants Dan to touch him right now, even the rough brush on the comforter across his palms sends tingles through his arms. Dan gets his fly open and that’s pretty much it, one hand rough and callused over his dick.

---

Dan mercifully doesn't bring it up. Mercy is for the weak, Jepha thinks, melodramatically. He half wants Dan to just talk about this-- he is kind of a masochist, though. Hardy fucking har.

---

It’s Jepha’s actual birthday, and he wakes up to his phone blaring “Epic” in his ear, because it’s laying next to him on the pillow. Where he totally didn’t put it himself. It’s okay though, because they’ve got a hotel night, which he thinks is the band’s present to him, and he’s been sleeping in an actual, semi-decent bed. It’s pretty amazing.

Dan’s gone and the bed is cold where he was, but the text is from him.

so we could maybe try something special tonight y/n?

Jepha’s mind races. They’ve pretty much just fucked around with Jeph’s kinky side, Dan’s bossed him around, pulled his hair and given him bruises in interesting places and held him down and it’s been awesome, but they haven’t really pushed it yet, not as far as Jepha thinks he wants to. Dan is good, and thinking about it sends a roll of shivering yes down Jepha’s chest that settles in his dick and makes his stomach flip, nervousexcited.

Jepha types back: Y Y Y Y Y Y Y Y sends that, then pauses and sends another text before Dan can reply: plz.

Fuck, he loves Dan.

---

When Jepha opens his room door, Bert and Quinn and sitting on the bed, playing knuckles. Bert laughs when Quinn flinches and calls him a little bitch.

Jepha feels kind of disappointed for a second, because he was thinking it’d just be Dan, waiting there, maybe holding solid heavy handcuffs or… something.

But then, it is his birthday, and maybe there’s going to be a band-family party first?

Dan comes out of the bathroom, damp and shirtless, just wearing loose sweat pants. Jepha is fairly sure he’ll never get tired of seeing Dan shirtless.

“Hi,” Dan says. “You want your present now?”

“Uh,” Jepha says, because, uh, what?.

Dan just smiles. Bert and Quinn have both scooted around on the bed to sit and look at him, faintly smiling and just… looking at him with their freaky little mindmeld twin expressions.

“It’s a combined present,” Bert says. “You have to close your eyes.”

Jepha’s heart beats a little faster.

“Close them,” Dan says, and that is an In The Bedroom Voice he’s using, and Jepha’s heart kicks the tempo up again. “Now,” Dan says.

Jepha closes his eyes and all there’s a quiet shifting of clothing and feet, nearly silent on the floor, before there are lips on his and he has to open his eyes, because that is not Dan, that feels like—Bert. Bert’s blue eyes are right there.

“You got me…?” He trails off.

“Technically the gangbang is Bert and Quinn’s present,” Dan says, “because I’d already bought you the new Smash Bros. game before we talked about it.”

Jepha wants to laugh. So he does. Hysterically edged and cut off at the peak on a girlish high note that he’s pretty sure he got from Bert.

“Are you okay? Is this okay?” Quinn asks Jepha.

Jepha can’t make words. His words are gone. He opens his mouth and hopes.

“Yeah,” comes out, quiet and choked.

---

Quinn’s calluses are entirely different to Dan’s. Jepha can’t look, physically can’t move to see, but he thinks that those are Dan’s long fingered, rough palmed hands on his right arm, and Quinn’s rough fingered precise hands on his left. He feels trapped. The bones in his wrist grind together when he twists hard, testing--- Bert’s hands are on his face, one on each cheek, and somewhere above him, Dan says, “open your eyes.”

Jepha opens his eyes.

“You’re gonna blow me,” Bert says, pressing his finger down on Jepha’s lip, pushing inside to rub against where ‘tea’ is on the back of his lip, briefly, grinning down at Jepha and scooting up to straddle his chest, making it hard to breathe even before Dan’s physically lifting Jepha’s head and the angle of his neck becomes kind of impossible, even before Bert’s cock is pushing forwards, nudging the roof of his mouth, sliding towards his throat.

It’s slow like this, the angle can’t be that great for Bert, but it’s fucking amazing for Jepha, who can barely breathe and his head is fucking spinning, but he’s going to do this, for Bert and for Quinn and Dan who are right there, still holding his arms. Bert pulls out before he comes, jerks off right there, and Jepha whines because no, he wants that back, he can get Bert off like this, he can—Bert pushes back in against Jepha’s lips just as he’s coming and Jepha sucks, hard and sloppy and hard hard as Bert comes in his mouth.

Jepha gets a breath—literally, one breath—before he’s turning on his side and Quinn’s hands are on his shoulders, pushing him down towards his dick and Jepha thinks, fuck yes, and doesn’t even have time to think—spit or swallow? Before his mouth is on Quinn, Quinn’s hands in his hair, groaning, as Bert’s come just slides out of his mouth over Quinn’s dick. Quinn groans again and so does Jepha, because fuck. Bert giggles somewhere off to the side and presses his hand against the curve of Jepha’s back. Dan’s talking somewhere over him, but Jepha can’t hear over the rush in his ears, can’t listen while Quinn’s tugging on his hair, not even slightly polite, not being at all nice about it, Jepha pushes his hips down into the bed and Quinn pushes his hips up until Jepha gags, has to pull back. Quinn stops for a second and Jepha looks up, because what? No, no no no.

“Sorry,” Quinn says, and Jepha just smiles up at him. “Fuck sorry,” Jepha says.

Quinn leans down and pulls up on Jepha’s hair at the same time and kisses him, dirty and wet, before pushing Jepha back down to his dick.

Bert’s hand is still pressing into Jepha’s lower back and after a minute, a second of Quinn pushing up into his mouth Jepha feels a wet tongue on his lower back, licking between Bert’s fingers. He groans, choked around Quinn’s cock, when he feels teeth digging into the curve of his ass.

“Hi,” Bert says in his ear, and Jepha feels that Bert’s hands are gone and Dan’s hands have replaced, them, spreading him open and dipping a warm, lube wet finger into him.

Jepha can just hear Bert and Quinn kissing over the whine in his throat and the rush in his ears and the wet sound of Quinn’s dick sliding in-out of his mouth and Quinn comes, clenching his hand hard in Jepha’s hair, fuck yes and holding him still as he comes and comes in Jepha’s mouth—

Quinn falls backwards limply and takes Bert with him, arms around his middle. Jepha’s left to pillow his head on Quinn’s twitching thigh and breath harsh and loud as Dan’s sticks two fingers in his ass at once, pushing in slow and hard.

“Sit up,” Jepha hears, but doesn’t realise, oh, Dan’s talking to him, for a ridiculously long time.

Dan pulls his fingers out, which is no, bad wrong bad.

“Fuck me,” Jepha says, it comes out rough and used sounding, quiet and desperate, he pushes his hips into the bed some more because it’s really all he can do.

“Sit. Up.” Dan says, and tugs at Jepha’s shoulder.

Jepha drags himself upright and Dan pulls him into his lap.

“Fuck yourself,” Dan says. Jepha’s eyes roll back in his head, and he hooks his arms around Dan’s neck and pushes down on Dan’s dick. Jepha’s thighs start shaking straight away, he’s so close, he feels the ache like something distant he knows somewhere in the back of his mind he will feel this hurt later.

Quinn and Bert are laughing about something and tipping the bed rolling around and Jepha smiles against Dan’s neck and pushing one arm out to give them the finger, his arm bobbing unsteadily in their direction as he can’t bring himself to stop moving in Dan’s lap, Dan breathing into his ear, Dan’s dick in his ass, fuck—fuck—Jepha gets a hand on his dick and he’s coming. Coming between them before Dan does. Jepha stops moving, slumps into Dan’s shoulder for a minute before Dan says, “keep moving.”

Jepha pulls his head back and looks into Dan’s eyes.

“Keep moving, Jepha,” Dan says, eyes dark and hips twitching, dick twitching inside Jepha.

Jepha smiles with all his teeth and pushes with violently trembling thighs. Way too sensitive with aftershocks, kissing Dan hard to steady himself until Dan comes, finally moving himself inside Jeph, pushing up up up—and that’s it, coming hard, Jepha feeling it twitchy and oversensitive, shivers running up Jepha’s spine, his dick twitching as Dan pulls out with what should be a deeply gross noise, but is actually hot enough that Jepha almost thinks he can get interested in round two straight away, Jesus fuck.

“Happy birthday,” Bert says, when Jepha opens his eyes to reality again Bert is stomach down on the bed, head turned to watch Jepha. Jepha grins across the ugly hotel coverlet at him. Quinn pops up like a fucked-out, bed-headed meerkat from over the side of the bed, fuck knows what he was doing down there, and frowns at Jepha.

“Where’d my underwear go?” Quinn asks.

“Fuck if I know,” Jepha says, happily.

Jepha turns over and Dan is right there, scratching his armpit and smiling.

“Happy Birthday,” Dan says, and leans down and kisses Jepha. Jepha kind of loves Dan a lot, he decides.

“Hey, Jeph,” Quinn says, somewhere behind him.

“I don’t know where your underwear went, fucker,” Jeph says, sleepy and not all that interested in moving his lips off Dan’s for longer than absolutely necessary.

“No, I just wanted to say,” Quinn says, serious enough Jepha turns over and looks at him, “I just wanted you to know… I think you’re a better lay than your Mom.”

---