A Deviant Spawn Christmas

"Just wanted to greet a fellow member of Club Fangirls, s'all," Shane said, deadpan.

When so blatantly confronted with his star struck behavior, Rory did the only thing to be expected: Using the hand that had so recently been wrapped around the outline of Taz's cock, he pumped Shane's hand up and down empathetically.

And said, "I'm not only a member, I'm also the founder and the president."

Rory allowed an idiotic smile to overtake his face. It was an exact replica of the toothy one spreading across Shane's.

As they shuffled towards the exit, Shane exclaimed, "Did you hear Revelin? He actually said he digs me! He digs me! Not nearly as much as I dig him, of course, but still! Man, that is so beast! And, holy fuck, what the hell was that with you and Taz? Jesus, Rory, I think he likes you. Like, really, really likes you!"

Silently, Rory agreed with his friend's assessments. And thought silently to himself, I'm never washing my hand again. Not for the rest of my life.

*

Contrary to Taz's prediction, Rory hadn't planned on attending the after party. For a few key reasons.

One, before they'd embarked on their evening, he and Shane had reached a mutual agreement they wouldn't go. As clubs didn't really play a part in either of their comic book geared interests, after their meeting with Deviant Spawn, they'd intended to grab some strawberry milkshakes from Mickey D's and crash at Shane's place for the rest of the night. While playing Batman: Arkham Asylum on the Xbox, the plan had been to moon over the band and, later, relieve some sexual stress with one another if necessary.

Two, Rory had no desire to stay out all night partying. He didn't want to be too tired to get up in a timely manner to return home the next morning. Christmas was a big deal for his family, always held at his parents' house, and extended family had been arriving from all parts of the country for days in advance. Rory knew his mother would be up at the crack of dawn preparing a hearty breakfast for the temporarily enlarged Banks' brood and breakfast was served on a first come basis. Basically, if you weren't there to serve yourself the minute she pulled her famous rum buns from the oven, then it was likely you weren't getting a serving.

Three, well, Rory's third reason was a recent addition to his list. He honestly did not think he could survive another encounter with Deviant Spawn's intense lead vocalist. At least not without being reduced to a blubbering, drooling fool. Better to retain a shred of his dignity and not even chance it.

So, given all of his valid reasons for not setting one foot inside of Virtuous, Rory was beyond surprised to find himself leaning on the railing of the second level of the tri-floor club watching the swarm of gyrating, gesticulating bodies move in sync with the blaring music down below. He was waiting on Shane to return from the VIP section up on the third floor. With Rory's keys.

Keys Taz had apparently managed to swipe from Rory with Rory being none the wiser.

Rory wondered what was keeping his friend so long. Shane had been gone close to thirty minutes this trip, his second to VIP. The first had ended with Taz immediately sending a smudged lipsticked, glassy eyed, strangely mute Shane back to Rory, lacking keys, but armed with an invitation Rory had refused to come join him.

It was apparent to Rory that Taz had somehow misjudged him as a groupie. Much as Rory adored Taz, he refused to do anything to perpetuate the erroneous opinion. And going to VIP would definitely be a form of perpetuation. Because if Taz whipped out his cock and demanded Rory suck it in front of all present, Rory would mindlessly drop to his knees like the blubbering, drooling fool he was afraid of becoming and do it without question. Therefore, Rory opted to stay far away from the VIP section.

And far, far away from Taz. And that tempting cock of his Rory had already had the pleasure of touching once.

The rational part of his mind told him he should feel some sort of annoyance over what was happening. And if it wasn't Taz instrumenting this whole bizarre scenario, he probably would. As it was, the insane part of his mind, the part currently in control, found it all a bit flattering. Surreal, but flattering nonetheless.

After stealing Rory's keys, Taz had arranged transportation, via one of the band's many rented limousines, for Rory and Shane to the club on the other side of the city. He'd also arranged entrance to the venue for the two nineteen year olds, free of charge. As well as admission to the exclusive VIP section.

Since the hulking security detail employed by Deviant Spawn refused to take orders from anyone other than Deviant Spawn, Rory's and Shane's path to the car had been disrupted by a guard approximately the same size as Colossus who'd steadily ignored Rory's loudly vocalized objections. Same security guard had then whisked them to the waiting limo which had taken them to the club while ignoring Rory's fruitlessly stomped feet. The only reason the guard had given for his actions, and only given because Rory had stuck his head out the limo's sunroof and started screaming like a banshee, was that he was acting on Taz's order and that it was in Rory's best interest to go along with the order because it was the only way his keys would be returned to him. For the first time becoming aware of their absence, Rory had demanded to have his keys returned immediately. The guard had indulgently reiterated they would be returned, at the club, forcing Rory to admit that he was going partying because, for whatever reason, it was what Taz wanted.

And through it all, Shane had made no effort to hide the fact that he found it hysterically funny that Rory's unflappability had been so thoroughly jacked, slapped then flapped upside down.

"You just make sure you get my keys, jackass," Rory had grumbled when they'd first entered the club. He'd then stalked off, being sure to make a wide berth around the mountainous guard. The man had been eyeing him with too unhealthy an interest that Rory recognized from their earlier encounter did not bode well for Rory's free will.

When the guard made a move to grab his arm in an effort to no doubt direct Rory to the stairs leading up, Rory had dodged his grip then hurried to the stairs leading down. He'd mixed with the crush on the dance floor until the DJ had announced to the exuberant, delighted club goers Deviant Spawn was in residence. Figuring he was safe, overfed guard's notice properly focused on his famous charges as it should be, he'd drifted back up to the less crowded second level where he'd been hanging out unnoticed ever since.

Rory didn't bother to divert his attention from the floor below when Shane finally reappeared at his side. His best friend leaned against the railing next to Rory and Rory opened his hand. When his keys were deposited on his palm without further ado, Rory couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed Taz had given them up so easily.

But who was he fooling? Was he actually expecting Taz to woo him? Taz, the man who could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted. As Rory hadn't seen any photos of the famous bisexual singer with a male companion as feminine as Rory for the past three to four years, he could only assume Taz had found someone in VIP more to his liking. Someone a tad more masculine. Or maybe he'd gone and hooked up with one of those waifish thin, boyish females he seemed to like so much. Whoever the person was, they were probably more than willing to dance to the singer's sexual tunes without first requiring special catering.

"Shit," Rory groused. He tossed his head to remove the ever errant lock of hair. "How the hell are we supposed to get back to the car?"

"That's simple, lovely. I'll have the driver take you on the way to drop me off at the hotel."

On hearing that voice again, that voice that made every Deviant Spawn song an instant hit, Rory squeezed his eyes shut.

Taz. Not Shane. It was Taz returning the keys to him.

"Or, were you wanting to take me up on that offer to join me up in VIP...?" Taz asked, voice raised to be heard over the noise of the club.

"I...no, I, um, I think I'm ready to leave, yes, definitely ready to go. But, first, I have to find, er, Shane...my friend...you know, blue-black spiked hair...babbles a lot..." Rory didn't know if what he'd just said made any sense, so he stopped talking.

"Don't worry 'bout your friend. He and Rev seem to have hit it off with each other. And I'm pretty sure that Rev is happily planning to see that Shane gets wherever he wants, or needs, to be," Taz said with a warm, sensuous chuckle.

"That, uh, sounds good," Rory responded, grasping onto the railing to hold him up when his knees gave out. Then, as it became clear that Taz's words could also be construed as a sexual innuendo, he breathed a shocked, "Oh."

"And now it's time to get you—"

"No! I mean, you don't have to leave your party because of me. Just arrange for the limo to drop me off at my car. I'll be fine."

"No can do, lovely. I brought you here so it's only fair that I personally see you back." Taz strolled away.

By the time Rory got his brain to communicate a message to his eyes to open and to his legs to start walking, he turned to see that Taz had stealthily made his way to the rear exit. Colossus shadowed his every step, preventing the handful of frenzied hopefuls present on the second level from approaching with his glower. Rory scrambled to catch up with his departing ride and the ominous sentinel.

When they finally reached the cordoned off back alley, filled with limousines, Rory was stuffed to the brim of the fabulous view of Taz from the rear. Taz had taken his hair out of its queue and the white blond strands, dry now, hung loose to the middle of his back, bone straight and with not a single curl or wave to be found in the thick mass. He'd also re-donned his black silk shirt and the waist length piece of fabric clung to his shoulders, highlighting their broadness. And the leather pants he wore conformed to his lean form, showcasing his tight ass to perfection.

If life were to end right then for Rory, he would die the most contented girl scout ever.

Rory slid inside the interior of the stretch limo Taz indicated with a tap of his fist on the hood, the only limo which was a sedan rather than a SUV. Taz stood outside speaking quietly with his driver and guard and by the time he joined him, Rory had maneuvered himself to the furthermost part of the seat. Staring out the dark tinted window, he tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible while watching two of the vehicles, empty of occupants other than a chauffeur, drive off.

"Decoys," Taz said by way of explanation. "Lord knows I love the attention that comes with the press, but sometimes it can be wearing. They tend to get too fanatic and invasive for comfort."

Being as knowledgeable about all things Broderick "Taz" Phelps as he was, right down to Taz's height of six-two and the exact time Taz had made his grand, squalling entrance to the world twenty-seven years ago, Rory was well aware of the singer's penchant for keeping the identity of his lodgings a secret from the media. Taz always made it a point to stay at a separate location than his less privacy inclined bandmates. Even equipped with that knowledge, it was still strange for Rory to actually hear Taz express his desire for peace. Because Rory had always thought of Taz as being Taz, the celebrity lead singer of Deviant Spawn.

And not as Taz, the human who possessed the same basic needs as any other person.

Since Taz didn't seem to require a response to his comment, Rory hoped it might be a sign of how their ride would progress. Maybe, just maybe, Taz would prove merciful and ignore Rory. Wouldn't try to force him into a conversation which was bound to make absolutely no sense on Rory's side.

Would let Rory bask silently in his presence.

The limo pulled out of the alley, opposite of the exit utilized by the decoys, and smoothly merged into traffic. And Taz shifted his long form down the stretch of seat until he sat in its bend, right next to Rory. His legs were splayed wide open, the left one brushing against the outside of Rory's right.

Breaths coming in erratic intervals, Rory thwarted the hysterical giggle which threatened to burst free from his throat. Taz's nearness played serious havoc with his senses, eliciting responses which were at opposite ends of the spectrum. Earlier, Rory hadn't been able to breathe at all. Now, he breathed much too fast.

A long silence ensued, neither Rory nor Taz speaking. Rory, because he couldn't. Taz, because, human or not, Taz was still a megastar and didn't have to if he didn't want to.

But it was Taz who eventually shattered the quietness. About twenty minutes into the winding journey, he leaned forward, opened the limo's bar and retrieved a bottle of Patron along with a glass. "Drink?"

"I really shouldn't," Rory answered. He needed to keep a close tab on what was left of his scattered wits. Alcohol, strong alcohol at that, would not help.

He watched Taz twist the cap off and pour himself a good sized serving. Watched Taz raise the tumbler to his full lips. Watched the pull of Taz's long throat as he took a swallow.

Imagined watching the pulls of that throat, home to a powerful set of vocal cords, as Taz swallowed him.

Rory lunged for the open bottle Taz still held. He sucked down burning mouthful after burning mouthful.

"Careful," Taz cautioned, removing the rim from Rory's lips then coaxing the bottle loose from his hand. He screwed on the cap and replaced the Patron back inside the bar. "You're not old enough to be drinking, much less taking it to the head like that."

"I'm done." Rory relaxed as the flames spread through his body in a wave of heady warmth. "Just, uh, needed to calm my nerves a little."

"You drained half the bottle, kid. You didn't calm your nerves, you drowned them."

"Couldn't help myself. You make me nervous," Rory blurted.

"I do, do I." Taz's raspy tone indicated his satisfaction with hearing the hasty confession. "I make you nervous. You make me want you. Even exchange if you ask me."

"I make you...you make me...I want you, I mean, you want me...oh, crap."

The limo stopped moving while Rory annihilated the language he'd spoken fluently for his entire life. When Colossus, who'd ridden up front with the driver, opened the vehicle's door, Rory lurched out of his seat and crawled over Taz to make his departure.

Only to find they hadn't returned to the concert hall. Not even close. The limo had brought them to an extravagant, obviously expensive hotel.

Taz's hotel.

If Taz was revealing the location of his hotel to Rory, then was he...surely he wasn't expecting Rory to stay the night with him? Was he?

Worried his poor brain cells would be obsolete come morning, Rory turned a pleading glance to the chauffeur who stood in the open juncture of the driver's door. "There's been a mistake. You were supposed to—"

"I'll call if I need you again this evening, Blaine," Taz dismissed the driver as he exited the sedan behind Rory. He pressed close to Rory's back, his next words a provocative whisper on the heated skin of Rory's neck. "What kind of Good Samaritan would I be if I let you drive home knowing the amount of alcohol you've consumed tonight? Before you go anywhere you're going to sober yourself up in my room first."

"But I am sober," Rory protested as Taz stepped around him, treating Rory to a second view of his delicious, retreating backside. Rory forced his attention back to the driver. "I'm not drunk, Blaine. I'm sober, I swear."

The older man shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Then retook up his position behind the limo's wheel, shut his door, and took off out of the hotel's parking lot like a frisky nun out of a porn store with her illicit goods. Clearly the man wasn't willing to risk his job to provide any kind of assistance.

Rory heard the screech of tires taking a corner too fast. Watched the taillights disappear around the same corner.

Clearly.

Rory focused his narrowed eyed attention on the guard. "Hey, Rasputin, I'm gonna need for you to get that driver back over here. Pronto. Because I am not drunk. Do you hear me? I am not drunk. Not even a little bit tipsy."

"Stop fighting, lovely," Taz tossed over his shoulder. He stopped walking and turned back to face Rory, but Rory refused to look at him. "I have witnesses willing to corroborate that you've drunk way too much tonight. Isn't that right, Nietz?"

"Saw him down half that bottle at the club with my own two eyes, boss," the guard rumbled.

"You're a lie!" Rory shouted. Oblivious to the pain, he jammed his bejeweled finger in the center of the guard's massive chest. "It was in that damn limousine I downed half the bottle, not the club. And just in case no one has ever told you before, lying is very un-Colossus like, Colossus!"

Nietz grinned at Taz over Rory's head, infuriating Rory even further. But Rory dropped his arm to his side and admitted he was defeated when Nietz said, "Heard his confession with my own two ears, too, boss."

"So, you see, lovely," Taz explained with too much good-naturedness, "I'm sure you'll agree that in all good faith I just can't let you leave right now. Underage drinking. Over indulgence. No, there's no way I can let you go just yet."

"You do realize this is one step above extortion?" Rory mumbled.

"What can I say? If there's one thing to which I can swear, it's that I want what I want and I always get what I want. It's a specialty of mine."

Rory just bet it was.

Despite Taz's readily given admittance to the dubious use of coercion, Rory dutifully trailed him through the revolving glass door with the guard trailing Rory. If Rory was to be honest, being blackmailed by Taz wasn't an unappealing idea. Especially since the musician had twice made reference to his desire for Rory.

Maybe that desire bore further exploration.

But could Rory really, truly allow himself to play the oft disparaged groupie to Taz's celebrity? And still respect himself come daybreak?

A skip entered Rory's step as the lurid answer bounded around his head, equally shocking in its intensity as it was in its accuracy: Hell fucking yeah he could, to the first question!

Not so much, to the second. Rory hungered for more from Taz, but it just wasn't a feasible expectation for him to hold the world renowned rock star to.

Besides, Rory didn't really want to live out his life in the public eye, anyway. Not even if it was with Taz, the man he felt like he knew better than himself as a result of carefully listening to and studiously deciphering every word of every Deviant Spawn song. The man he loved.

Okay, so maybe he was lying. He would love to live his life at Taz's side. But it was a farfetched dream that wasn't going to happen. So it was best for Rory to just put it from his mind.

He would make himself be satisfied with this single encounter with Taz in the privacy of Taz's room at this hotel unknown by the paparazzi. At least no one who knew him would know what he'd done. No one, that is, except Shane because Rory would spill all the details of his one night stand with a legend to his best friend.

But only after first getting details of Shane's night with Revelin. Rory was fairly certain Shane was, or very soon would be, in a similar state of affairs with the charismatic, openly gay guitarist. That was considering, of course, Revelin discovered a way to silence the chatterbox, which Rory was sure he would. From the numerous magazine articles he'd read on Deviant Spawn, Rory had long ago deduced that Revelin was, in fact, a mathematical genius.