The roar of the crowd faded into a dull hum as Serge and Daron stumbled into their shared dressing room. Both men were drenched in sweat, their faces flushed from the adrenaline of the performance. Daron flopped onto the couch, letting out a groan as his muscles protested the sudden change from frantic movement to stillness.
Serge chuckled, watching his bandmate with a smirk. "Rough night, darling?" he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
Daron glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. "Shut up," he grumbled, rubbing at his aching shoulders. "I'm not as young as I used to be."
Serge's smirk turned into a wicked grin. "I could help with that," he suggested, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He picked up a bottle of lotion from the table, hefting it suggestively.
Daron raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over his face. "Your massage skills are...questionable, at best," he pointed out, a teasing note in his voice.
Serge shrugged, unaffected. "You won't know until you try," he replied, his voice low and seductive. He moved towards Daron, his eyes locked on the other man's face.
Daron hesitated, his initial resistance warring with the temptation of Serge's offer. Finally, with a sigh, he nodded. "Fine," he said, his voice grudging. "But if I end up more sore than I started, I'm blaming you."
Serge's grin widened as he sat down next to Daron. He grabbed Daron's hand, pulling it gently towards him. He squirted a generous amount of lotion onto his palms, rubbing them together to warm the liquid. Daron watched him, his skepticism slowly fading into curiosity as Serge's strong hands began to work on his shoulders.
Serge's thumbs dug into the knots in Daron's muscles, causing the other man to moan in pleasure. "Oh, fuck," he breathed, his head falling forward. "That feels so good."
Serge chuckled, his ego inflating at the praise. "Told you I was good," he said, his voice smug. He continued to massage Daron's shoulders, his hands moving down to knead the muscles in his back.
Daron tried to resist, making playful insults about Serge's ego. "You're not that good," he said, his voice strained as Serge's hands worked their magic. "I could do this better myself."
Serge just laughed, ignoring Daron's protests. He tied Daron's hands to the armrests of the couch, silencing his protests with a kiss. Daron's initial resistance turned into desire as Serge's lips explored his body, his tongue tracing a path down Daron's neck.
Serge undressed Daron, teasing him with slow, deliberate movements. Daron's moans turned into pleas for more as Serge's hands and mouth worshipped his body, his touch setting Daron's skin on fire. Serge took his time, driving Daron wild with anticipation.
Daron begged for release, but Serge only smiled, prolonging the sweet torture. Finally, Serge gave in to Daron's demands, sending them both over the edge in a wave of pleasure.
As they lay there, panting and sated, Serge looked over at Daron with a satisfied grin. "See? I told you I was good."
Daron rolled his eyes, but there was a smile on his face. "You're an asshole," he said, his voice soft.
Serge just laughed, pulling Daron close. "But you love me anyway."
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