One o'clock in the afternoon.
Who's idea was it to conduct the fuckin' interview here? And at this time of day? Jon tapped a cigarette out and grasped it between his lips. Then he remembered. He didn't light it. No smoking here. Fuck. He needed to quit anyway. He removed it from his mouth and just rolled it between his fingers. He put the pack back into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.
Several security guards milled around the edges of their little group. He wondered how the audio guy was picking up anything they said in the cacophony of this place. He could barely hear himself talking. The cameraman was hovering close to his face with the Steadycam.
The cavernous terminal was bustling. Midweek, midday. The noise was equal to that inside a night club but instead of music, the incessant announcements of arriving and departing trains and sounds from various vendors added to the general thrum of voices . . . he had to ask the reporter to repeat the questions several times.
After almost a year of touring, his patience wore thin, the temper came quicker. He sighed deeply as he answered the steady stream of questions. Every other question, they had to cut and begin again because of interruptions from the gathering onlookers. His sunglasses hid the fact that he had begun to roll his eyes when this happened.
Tico was standing next to him gamely answering his share.
Jon tried to put the cigarette back in the pack but instead ended up tossing it in the trash. He rubbed his eyes and raked his hand through his hair as he listened to Tico talk about the acoustic album they were getting ready to release.
They finally finished the interview and people started going their separate ways. One security guard lingered around for Jon and Tico. Jon had picked up the drummer at his hotel, so they made their way out of the crowd together, signing a few autographs. The crowd dispersed as they walked toward the underground parking garage in another part of the terminal. The security guard let them go it alone.
This is New York City, once the crowd broke, no one gave a damn enough to notice the two bandmates walking through the busy concourse.
Jon was thirsty so he motioned to the drummer to stop at the next food place. A frazzled businessman jostled Tico as he rushed by them, accidentally pushing Tico into Jon as he paid for his drink. He felt Tico's hand rub against his ass. The singer looked sideways at Tico. He saw Tico's mouth form the word "Sorry." Accident? Jon kept his gaze aimed at Tico who just shrugged back.
Jon turned to leave and as he did, he brushed up against Tico again. They couldn't walk two feet without having to dodge another body. They walked closely together, Jon against Tico's back. Tico slipped his hand behind him and grazed Jon's crotch.
Jon almost choked on his Coke, some dribbling down his chin. That was no accident. He swiped it away as he leaned forward and said something into Tico's ear. His voice was drowned out by the announcement of trains departing and arriving. Tico shook his head. He either hadn't heard or he didn't want to? Jon repeated what he said again.
This time the drummer nodded and made a slight change in direction as they waded through people. Jon dropped his cup into a trash receptacle. Damn he wished he could smoke a cigarette in here.
They made their way through the crowded dining concourse and headed toward the trains. They found a small niche in the vast terminal and tucked into it. They were still in full view of anyone who cared to look in their direction. They just weren't standing where people had to walk around them.
Jon leaned back against the wall and Tico turned to face him. He was short enough that Jon could see over the top of his head. Barely. He felt his pants loosen as they were unzipped and a hot hand slipped down and wrapped around his stiff cock.
Mmmm. He swallowed hard as he pushed up and made Tico's hand slide down his shaft.
A few people glanced his way, but they were in too much of a hurry to really 'look' at him. He sucked in a breath as Tico's hand pumped him harder, his hand firm and hard. He rocked his hips slightly, almost involuntarily as he felt the burn working its way to climax. He felt Tico's other hand move between them and then his head jerked back and hit the marble wall when he felt the head of his cock get pinched.
"Shit," he hissed, not that anyone would have heard him if he shouted it. The din was getting louder as people streamed off the trains and hurried past them. A few times, Tico was knocked into him and their bodies pressed tight. He could feel Tico's hard on through his pants. Just a little more. Almost there.
He grimaced, gritting his teeth. Tico looked up and knew he was getting close. He gripped harder and felt the skin around Jon's cock slide up and down, the thick cock growing harder. With his other hand covering the head, he felt the come as it shot up into his palm. He closed his hand and kept pumping with the other as he felt Jon heaving, breathless.
The men stood still, Tico hiding Jon as he gathered himself, tucked in and zipped.
They stepped into the crowd and headed to the underground to the parking garage. The drummer grabbed a handful of napkins near the cash register of a food vendor as he passed.
They got in the car and shut the doors.
"Next time you dare me to give you a fuckin' hand job try to pick a less crowded place."
"Babe, that's what makes it fun." Jon flashed his smile, floored it and shot out of the parking garage.