Just Like Old Times
Author: janejade
Rating: Umm - N17?
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Disclaimer: The author has no knowledge of this ever happening - but would love to be a fly on the wall if it did!
Mike played the same bass line over and over as Billie Joe spoke to the crowd, introducing the other people on the stage - not that they really needed introducing, everyone knew who shared the stage when Green Day was on tour. Tre, as you would expect, performed his customary drum roll followed by a quick sprint around the drum set before resuming his place on the podium. That just left Mike to be introduced then they could get on with the gig and rip their way through some of the older stuff they’d recorded. When there was no introduction immediately forthcoming Mike looked up, surprised to find Billie Joe standing just inches away. He blinked as the front man leant in and used Mike’s microphone to make the final introduction, draping his arm around the bassists shoulders as he spoke.
“...I'm gonna take this opportunity to introduce the hottest damn bass player in the fucking universe, who also just happens to have the sexiest ass this side of...me....Mr Miiiiiiike Dirnt!”
Almost of their own accord Mike’s fingers continued to play the bass line when Billie moved closer still, leaning in for what Mike assumed would be the customary kiss on the cheek. He moved his head sideways slightly, allowing the shorter man to be able to reach him without stretching...and almost dropped his plec when two hands framed his face and dry, demanding lips ground against his. Later Mike would take a measure of pride in the fact that he didn’t falter in his playing once, not even when he clearly felt his friend press his groin into his thigh and his tongue stroked his now startled lips. Before he could react Billie Joe was gone - the contact broken as quickly as it had begun...
Next Afternoon on the tour bus-
...Mike opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, calling through to Billie Joe who was sitting on the sofa talking to Tre on the laptop.
“Yo, dude you wanna beer?”
“Sure - bring a six pack with you...”
Mike did as he was asked; nudging the door closed with his hip as he walked towards the back of the bus where his band mate was seated. He had no idea what the hell was going on with BJ today - he’d been in a weird fucking mood all day and several times Mike had considered arranging to move to Tre’s tour bus for the day. It was no fun being on the road with a pissy, hormonal singer bitching and moaning about everything and everyone. A couple of times there had been what Mike would have termed ‘inappropriate’ contact between them - both times instigated by a seemingly innocent Billie Joe - if that wasn’t a contradiction in terms.
Then there was the performance on stage last night...THAT type of behaviour was something they hadn’t done for years, since they were much younger and not in serious relationships. He could still feel the pressure of those lips on his even now - and the sound of the crowd going absolutely ape shit had drowned out the first few bars of the next track. Maybe it would be a good idea to see if he could collect his own tour bus earlier.
“Mike - you making the fucking beer or what?”
“Yeah yeah, keep your god damn hair on. What the fuck’s gotten into you today? You’re like a fuckin...ooouufff”
His sentence was cut off as he found his arm grabbed and he was swung around, his back making hard contact with the cupboard and the beer disappearing from his arm to be dumped on the side.
“What the...”
“Shut it Michael...you’ve been to fucking quiet today and its pissing me off no end. I wanna get back to where we were - to the closeness we shared on tour...I wanna get with you...”
Mike stared at his friend, his eyes widening as Billie Joe pressed himself against the length of his body, his hips grinding in a fashion only to reminiscent of when he was on stage and fucking the floor.
“Beej - we can’t...we don’t do that anymore...we...”
“I don’t give a fuck what we ‘can’t’ do...I wanna, and I wanna with you...remember how good it used to be...how I’d make you beg...how you’d make me scream your name? Don’t tell me you don’t want to Mikey...I can tell you do.”
Billie Joe rubbed the flat of his hand against the growing bulge in the front of Mike’s drainpipes, his eyes darkening at the sharp inhalation of breath that greeted his actions. Knowing he was winning the battle, he tugged on the bar in Mike’s ear with his teeth, whispering...
“I’ll even be your little bitch...”
The words were all that Mike needed to hear to tip the balance and break his already wavering resolve. With something akin to a growl he reversed their positions, slamming Billie Joe against the cupboard and not caring if the singer was bruised at the contact. There’d been nothing in their respective sex lives since they’d left the UK - the one handed approach had already lost its appeal and what was on offer here was a close as they could get to being with their partners. If Billie Joe fucking Armstrong wanted to revisit this aspect of their youth then who was Mike to deny him - to deny them - that pleasure. All these thoughts and more raced through his mind as he ground his hips against the shorter man, his jeans now becoming uncomfortably tight. He was gonna take this chance and then move on - this was a once only deal.
“You’re gonna be my bitch? Too fucking right you are BJ - you’ve been a bitch all fucking day and its time you paid for your hormonal temper tantrums...Sofa - now!”
He shoved Billie Joe across the narrow walk way and watched as the older man stumbled and fell against the table, his hip bumping the laptop and threatening to send it crashing to the floor. Mike used one hand to steady the table, then he swooped, his hands tearing at Billie Joe’s shirt and belt, ripping the buttons in his haste and anger.
His own shirt was whipped over his head and tossed across the small room. If you asked him later who removed it he’d be unable to tell you...and he wouldn’t give a damn either. All that was on his mind now was making his band mate HIS bitch...like he had been in the distant past.
Rough hands tugged at skin, pinching, squeezing and scratching each inch that was uncovered. Billie Joe gasped and whimpered at the ferociousness of the attack, not bothering to try and stop what was happening. It was what he wanted and what they both needed. Tension had been too high on the bus during the past few days, both of them trying to pretend there was nothing wrong and both of them knowing they were lying to each other and themselves.
“Ngghhh - Mike....Sofa...”
Mike nodded and helped Billie Joe up from the floor and onto the sofa, using the time to unbuckle his own belt and buttons, shoving his drainpipes down over his thighs and past his knees. Once his shorts had joined his pants Mike knelt on the sofa, tugging his band mates’ jeans downwards. His breath caught as he realised that BJ was going commando - a sure sign he’d been planning for something like this to happen all along. He slapped away the grasping hands as he dragged the jeans off and dropped them to the floor of the bus. Socks joined the jeans and then Mike moved so he was kneeling between the singers’ legs, his eyes feasting on the sight before him, taking it all in and storing it away in his memory.
Billie Joe moved impatiently, his leg nudging against Mike’s erection and causing the bassist to hiss at the contact. Spitting into his hand, Mike wrapped his fingers around his own erection and closed his eyes at the sensations that saw him jerking and groaning. He wanted Beej - and now.
Reading the expression on his friends face Billie Joe reached down and fumbled for his jeans, lifting them enough to slip his hand into the back pocket and extract a small foil package. The jeans were unceremoniously dumped and he used his teeth to rip open the packet, his hands unsteady as he rolled the condom onto Mike’s rock hard cock, his eyes clouding with lust at the grunts that greeted his touch. Once Mike was sheathed Billie Joe lay back, his hands stroking himself, his hips rising to meet each touch. That was all it took for Mike to take control once again, his hands biting into Billie Joe’s thighs as he lifted his legs and hooked his ankles on his shoulders.
There was little thought of preparing the singer for what was about to happen but some part of Mike’s brain - the part that wasn’t being totally over ridden by sheer lust - recognised that they would need some kind of lubrication if the other man wasn’t going to be sore and limping for days. A quick glance around them showed little that could serve his purpose; then his gaze fell on a tube of moisturiser - one that Billie Joe used daily. They teased him mercilessly about the care he took of his skin but right now Mike was glad that he did or he’d have to leave his...lover?...there while he found something else to use. Mike leant sideways and grabbed the tube, flipping the lid open and squeezing a generous amount into his hand, coating himself in the faintly scented lotion and then dropping the tube onto the floor.
His hands shook as he leant forwards, bending Billie Joe at the hips and positioning himself ready to push into the singer. For a second he hesitated, his eyes searching the hazel orbs that gazed up at him from under heavy lids.
“This could hurt Bill...you wanna...”
“Just get the fuck on with it - stop being such a fucking pussy and do it already.”
Taking him at his word Mike thrust forwards, pushing past the tight ring of muscle and entering Billie Joe in one smooth, if slightly cautious motion. Both men stilled as they adjusted to the sensations, Mike holding himself up on shaking arms as he panted with the effort it took him to hold back.
Billie Joe was the first to move, his hips lifting and pushing Mike deeper, his mouth opening in a silent groan as Mike responded by grasping his hips and thrusting hard.
“Fuck...fuck...Mike...”
A muffled expletive was the only response as Mike continued to move, his thrusts becoming faster, harder and slightly less co-ordinated as the heat in the pit of his belly grew, spread and took over. He was close...had known he wouldn’t be able to hold back once they’d crossed that barrier and revisited their former relationship. His eyes were tight shut, his head thrown back as he moved, screwing Billie Joe into the sofa. A few more thrusts and he groaned, cursing out loud as he felt the tidal wave approaching fast.
Sensing Mike’s imminent orgasm, Billie Joe reached down and found his own erection, rubbing himself and jerking himself off with movements that struggled to keep time with Mike’s thrusts.
“Billie...ah fuck...I’m gonna...”
Mike shuddered as he came inside Billie Joe, the sensations of tight muscle gripping and milking him so strong that it seemed to suck the very life from him, leaving him balanced on unsteady arms and struggling to catch his breath. His eyes opened as Billie Joe called his name, his hand moving faster until he arched his back inadvertently pushing himself further onto Mike’s already softening cock as he came, white fluid coating both their stomachs. With a sigh, Mike pulled out of Billie Joe and collapsed back on the sofa, his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he recovered. He didn’t see Billie Joe grin at the laptop...
...On the second tour bus Tre pulled several tissues from the box and wiped his sticky hand and abdomen. He lay back against the sofa, his hand idly stroking his now wilting cock as he stared at the table in front of him. He now owed BJ fifty bucks - but it was worth losing the bet to witness the kind of live show he’d just watched. He’d known all along that Mike wouldn’t be able to refuse a truly determined Billie Joe and the web cam on his laptop had just provided him with proof...
Rating: Umm - N17?
Pairing: Billie/Mike
Disclaimer: The author has no knowledge of this ever happening - but would love to be a fly on the wall if it did!
Mike played the same bass line over and over as Billie Joe spoke to the crowd, introducing the other people on the stage - not that they really needed introducing, everyone knew who shared the stage when Green Day was on tour. Tre, as you would expect, performed his customary drum roll followed by a quick sprint around the drum set before resuming his place on the podium. That just left Mike to be introduced then they could get on with the gig and rip their way through some of the older stuff they’d recorded. When there was no introduction immediately forthcoming Mike looked up, surprised to find Billie Joe standing just inches away. He blinked as the front man leant in and used Mike’s microphone to make the final introduction, draping his arm around the bassists shoulders as he spoke.
“...I'm gonna take this opportunity to introduce the hottest damn bass player in the fucking universe, who also just happens to have the sexiest ass this side of...me....Mr Miiiiiiike Dirnt!”
Almost of their own accord Mike’s fingers continued to play the bass line when Billie moved closer still, leaning in for what Mike assumed would be the customary kiss on the cheek. He moved his head sideways slightly, allowing the shorter man to be able to reach him without stretching...and almost dropped his plec when two hands framed his face and dry, demanding lips ground against his. Later Mike would take a measure of pride in the fact that he didn’t falter in his playing once, not even when he clearly felt his friend press his groin into his thigh and his tongue stroked his now startled lips. Before he could react Billie Joe was gone - the contact broken as quickly as it had begun...
Next Afternoon on the tour bus-
...Mike opened the fridge and pulled out a beer, calling through to Billie Joe who was sitting on the sofa talking to Tre on the laptop.
“Yo, dude you wanna beer?”
“Sure - bring a six pack with you...”
Mike did as he was asked; nudging the door closed with his hip as he walked towards the back of the bus where his band mate was seated. He had no idea what the hell was going on with BJ today - he’d been in a weird fucking mood all day and several times Mike had considered arranging to move to Tre’s tour bus for the day. It was no fun being on the road with a pissy, hormonal singer bitching and moaning about everything and everyone. A couple of times there had been what Mike would have termed ‘inappropriate’ contact between them - both times instigated by a seemingly innocent Billie Joe - if that wasn’t a contradiction in terms.
Then there was the performance on stage last night...THAT type of behaviour was something they hadn’t done for years, since they were much younger and not in serious relationships. He could still feel the pressure of those lips on his even now - and the sound of the crowd going absolutely ape shit had drowned out the first few bars of the next track. Maybe it would be a good idea to see if he could collect his own tour bus earlier.
“Mike - you making the fucking beer or what?”
“Yeah yeah, keep your god damn hair on. What the fuck’s gotten into you today? You’re like a fuckin...ooouufff”
His sentence was cut off as he found his arm grabbed and he was swung around, his back making hard contact with the cupboard and the beer disappearing from his arm to be dumped on the side.
“What the...”
“Shut it Michael...you’ve been to fucking quiet today and its pissing me off no end. I wanna get back to where we were - to the closeness we shared on tour...I wanna get with you...”
Mike stared at his friend, his eyes widening as Billie Joe pressed himself against the length of his body, his hips grinding in a fashion only to reminiscent of when he was on stage and fucking the floor.
“Beej - we can’t...we don’t do that anymore...we...”
“I don’t give a fuck what we ‘can’t’ do...I wanna, and I wanna with you...remember how good it used to be...how I’d make you beg...how you’d make me scream your name? Don’t tell me you don’t want to Mikey...I can tell you do.”
Billie Joe rubbed the flat of his hand against the growing bulge in the front of Mike’s drainpipes, his eyes darkening at the sharp inhalation of breath that greeted his actions. Knowing he was winning the battle, he tugged on the bar in Mike’s ear with his teeth, whispering...
“I’ll even be your little bitch...”
The words were all that Mike needed to hear to tip the balance and break his already wavering resolve. With something akin to a growl he reversed their positions, slamming Billie Joe against the cupboard and not caring if the singer was bruised at the contact. There’d been nothing in their respective sex lives since they’d left the UK - the one handed approach had already lost its appeal and what was on offer here was a close as they could get to being with their partners. If Billie Joe fucking Armstrong wanted to revisit this aspect of their youth then who was Mike to deny him - to deny them - that pleasure. All these thoughts and more raced through his mind as he ground his hips against the shorter man, his jeans now becoming uncomfortably tight. He was gonna take this chance and then move on - this was a once only deal.
“You’re gonna be my bitch? Too fucking right you are BJ - you’ve been a bitch all fucking day and its time you paid for your hormonal temper tantrums...Sofa - now!”
He shoved Billie Joe across the narrow walk way and watched as the older man stumbled and fell against the table, his hip bumping the laptop and threatening to send it crashing to the floor. Mike used one hand to steady the table, then he swooped, his hands tearing at Billie Joe’s shirt and belt, ripping the buttons in his haste and anger.
His own shirt was whipped over his head and tossed across the small room. If you asked him later who removed it he’d be unable to tell you...and he wouldn’t give a damn either. All that was on his mind now was making his band mate HIS bitch...like he had been in the distant past.
Rough hands tugged at skin, pinching, squeezing and scratching each inch that was uncovered. Billie Joe gasped and whimpered at the ferociousness of the attack, not bothering to try and stop what was happening. It was what he wanted and what they both needed. Tension had been too high on the bus during the past few days, both of them trying to pretend there was nothing wrong and both of them knowing they were lying to each other and themselves.
“Ngghhh - Mike....Sofa...”
Mike nodded and helped Billie Joe up from the floor and onto the sofa, using the time to unbuckle his own belt and buttons, shoving his drainpipes down over his thighs and past his knees. Once his shorts had joined his pants Mike knelt on the sofa, tugging his band mates’ jeans downwards. His breath caught as he realised that BJ was going commando - a sure sign he’d been planning for something like this to happen all along. He slapped away the grasping hands as he dragged the jeans off and dropped them to the floor of the bus. Socks joined the jeans and then Mike moved so he was kneeling between the singers’ legs, his eyes feasting on the sight before him, taking it all in and storing it away in his memory.
Billie Joe moved impatiently, his leg nudging against Mike’s erection and causing the bassist to hiss at the contact. Spitting into his hand, Mike wrapped his fingers around his own erection and closed his eyes at the sensations that saw him jerking and groaning. He wanted Beej - and now.
Reading the expression on his friends face Billie Joe reached down and fumbled for his jeans, lifting them enough to slip his hand into the back pocket and extract a small foil package. The jeans were unceremoniously dumped and he used his teeth to rip open the packet, his hands unsteady as he rolled the condom onto Mike’s rock hard cock, his eyes clouding with lust at the grunts that greeted his touch. Once Mike was sheathed Billie Joe lay back, his hands stroking himself, his hips rising to meet each touch. That was all it took for Mike to take control once again, his hands biting into Billie Joe’s thighs as he lifted his legs and hooked his ankles on his shoulders.
There was little thought of preparing the singer for what was about to happen but some part of Mike’s brain - the part that wasn’t being totally over ridden by sheer lust - recognised that they would need some kind of lubrication if the other man wasn’t going to be sore and limping for days. A quick glance around them showed little that could serve his purpose; then his gaze fell on a tube of moisturiser - one that Billie Joe used daily. They teased him mercilessly about the care he took of his skin but right now Mike was glad that he did or he’d have to leave his...lover?...there while he found something else to use. Mike leant sideways and grabbed the tube, flipping the lid open and squeezing a generous amount into his hand, coating himself in the faintly scented lotion and then dropping the tube onto the floor.
His hands shook as he leant forwards, bending Billie Joe at the hips and positioning himself ready to push into the singer. For a second he hesitated, his eyes searching the hazel orbs that gazed up at him from under heavy lids.
“This could hurt Bill...you wanna...”
“Just get the fuck on with it - stop being such a fucking pussy and do it already.”
Taking him at his word Mike thrust forwards, pushing past the tight ring of muscle and entering Billie Joe in one smooth, if slightly cautious motion. Both men stilled as they adjusted to the sensations, Mike holding himself up on shaking arms as he panted with the effort it took him to hold back.
Billie Joe was the first to move, his hips lifting and pushing Mike deeper, his mouth opening in a silent groan as Mike responded by grasping his hips and thrusting hard.
“Fuck...fuck...Mike...”
A muffled expletive was the only response as Mike continued to move, his thrusts becoming faster, harder and slightly less co-ordinated as the heat in the pit of his belly grew, spread and took over. He was close...had known he wouldn’t be able to hold back once they’d crossed that barrier and revisited their former relationship. His eyes were tight shut, his head thrown back as he moved, screwing Billie Joe into the sofa. A few more thrusts and he groaned, cursing out loud as he felt the tidal wave approaching fast.
Sensing Mike’s imminent orgasm, Billie Joe reached down and found his own erection, rubbing himself and jerking himself off with movements that struggled to keep time with Mike’s thrusts.
“Billie...ah fuck...I’m gonna...”
Mike shuddered as he came inside Billie Joe, the sensations of tight muscle gripping and milking him so strong that it seemed to suck the very life from him, leaving him balanced on unsteady arms and struggling to catch his breath. His eyes opened as Billie Joe called his name, his hand moving faster until he arched his back inadvertently pushing himself further onto Mike’s already softening cock as he came, white fluid coating both their stomachs. With a sigh, Mike pulled out of Billie Joe and collapsed back on the sofa, his head tilted back and his eyes closed as he recovered. He didn’t see Billie Joe grin at the laptop...
...On the second tour bus Tre pulled several tissues from the box and wiped his sticky hand and abdomen. He lay back against the sofa, his hand idly stroking his now wilting cock as he stared at the table in front of him. He now owed BJ fifty bucks - but it was worth losing the bet to witness the kind of live show he’d just watched. He’d known all along that Mike wouldn’t be able to refuse a truly determined Billie Joe and the web cam on his laptop had just provided him with proof...