Belated birthday drabble for Melanie Tushmore

Melanie,

Happy belated birthday! Sorry it took me an extra week to get this done and up. ^^;; My manwhore of a guitarist wasn't behaving. But I finally coaxed him into this diddy; so here you go, and I hope you enjoy it.

<3 Lacie J

**

Bag of overpriced, but oh so worth it, band merchandise to my chest I wriggle free of the crowd surrounding the vendor's booth. Pushing free of the crush I pull my messenger bag around and manage to fit my latest purchases into the already crammed space. Glance around the convention hall as I snap the buckle back into place.

I still had a couple hours before my roommates were due to meet me for the benefit concert across the way. Normally I would have spent the day holding my place in line, but I'd somehow lucked out with reserved seating thanks to being one of the first fifty people to purchase tickets to the event. And all of that before Darkest Mercy had announced that they would be performing a couple of songs in the concert.

Phone in hand I ride an escalator up from the main dealer floor.

<So, how much have you spent on DM merch? Find anything you don't already have w Tobin, or Chris' face all over it?>

Snort under my breath, they knew me so well; anything with Darkest Mercy's guitarists was almost guaranteed to find its way into my room eventually. It was like a disease the way I felt compelled to buy the weirdest crap if it had them on it. <Round $100 :P taking a smoke break on one of the hall's roofs before descending into the madness surrounding the arena to meet up with you guys.> <cut>

<Only $100? What, do you have everything they're selling?>

Blowing a kiss to one of the boys I'd danced with last night as we pass each other I shoulder the door open. <...no...yes...maybe...shut up, I know you're laughing at me. It's not my fault they're hotter than hell.>

<You're worse than the teenage girls who stalk them.>

<If you're gonna be an ass I'm gonna put my phone on silent and dump it in my bag.> Dig into my pocket for my pack of cigarettes. Successfully located I pop one in between my lips and fish out my lighter.

<Fine, enjoy the next couple of hours without us, and try not to spend next month's rent.>

Rolling my eyes I dump my phone into my bag and light my cigarette. Sunlight warm on my skin I suck in a drag. As if I would go and while away the money meant for my portion of rent, even if the beckoning of the merchandise was quite the siren song. Smoke filling my lungs I wander across the rooftop, towards a shadowed stairwell.

Cool air replacing the warmth of the sunlight I sigh and sink down on one of the steps. Leaning back on my hands I close my eyes; navigating the dealer's hall crammed to the brim with attendees was exhausting. Wonder how the vendors dealt with the crush?

“Fuck!” Jerk out of my reverie, almost losing my cigarette, and look up as a smoldering butt falls from the landing of the third floor. Scrambling to avoid being burned I hiss when it connects with the back of my hand, sending a flare of pain up my arm. Blue eyes wide, the culprit leans further over the railing, “Shit man, I'm sorry about that, I didn't even think whether or not someone might be down there before I chucked mine down your way.”

Arm freezing mid flail I gape, unsure if what I was seeing was the truth. Wave of brown hair slipping into his eyes, Tobin, it had to be Tobin, no one else could possibly look that perfect, rakes it back with complete disregard. Blink and climb shakily to my feet, keeping my gaze on him, half afraid to blink and have him turn out to be a product of my imagination.

“You alright? Didn't get burned?”

Hand rising on its own accord to show him the welt on my flesh I shrug, and stammer, “N-nothing more than w-what I've given myself accidentally before.”

Curse hot he vanishes from sight, the sound of his boots on the steps echoing in the enclosed space. Twisting on my step I stare as all six feet of the main player in my wank daydreams rounds the bend in the stairs and rapidly closes the distance between us. “Shit, I'm sorry about that, even if it doesn't look too bad. Still should've disposed of my smoke properly rather than tossing it like a lazy ass.”

“Uh?”

Mouth twitching he curls his fingers around my wrist. “You sure you're okay?” Scorch of his lips over the tender skin he accidentally burnt I swallow dryly. This had to be a dream, no way was he actually touching me. Turning my hand over he peers at me as he flicks his tongue over my wrist.

Whimper escaping my throat I squeak, “What are you doing?”

Smirk dangerous he tugs at the grip he has on me. Follow him up to the the landing between floors; couldn't do anything else, not without losing the caress of his calloused fingers. “Trying to kiss it better and make you forget the pain,” quick yank bringing me flush against him, “Is it working at all, pretty ginger?”

Coherent thought beyond me I nod mutely, his hands, Tobin's hands, skating down to take hold of my hips loosely. Thumbs sneaking under the hem of my shirt I gasp, “I-I'm dreaming, aren't I? No way am I really being subtly molested by my favorite member of my favorite band in a stairwell, in public no less.”

Huff of breath sending a shiver down my spine he grins. “Possibly.” Teeth on my earlobe he chuckles at my soft sound. “And since you are quite possibly dreaming, what do you say to indulging in an 'I'm ridiculously sorry I burnt you' quickie before you wake up?” Shifting against me, calling my scattered attention to the fact that he's just as aroused as I am, he drawls, “No strings attached, just a damned good, figment of your horny imagination, apology. Yes?”

“Why?”

“I've got a thing for redheads, I like sex, and I really am sorry?”

Squirm in his hold and laugh. “That usually work in your dream world?”

Brow arched at me he dips a thumb under my waistband, crooning, “Do you want me to back off? I will, if you want me to; I don't use my fame to force guys.”

Grasp at his withdrawing hands, “Fuck no, no complaints from me.”

Hand shoved up the front on my shirt he crushes his mouth to mine, nails biting into my side, at my approval. Backed up against the wall I moan, arching into him. Can't be a dream, pain's supposed to wake you from those, right? Part my lips under his insistent pressure and fumble my hands over his arms. Tearing his lips from mine with a grumble he plucks at the strap of my bag. “This has got to go, sexy.”

Haul it over my head and bend to set it to the side, instantly finding myself attacked by another kiss, bag slipping through my fingers to hit the concrete.

*

Gentle caress of his knuckles down my jaw Tobin drops his chin to my shoulder. Shift my hands where they rest on the wall, his arms looping around my bare waist. “Mm, that was lovely,” fingers walk down to pet my upper thigh, “and I do hope I've managed to apologize for my earlier stupidity.”

Lean my head back to brush a hesitant kiss over his check, murmuring, “Quite, even if no one is ever going to believe me if I tell them I got fucked by you in a stairwell.”

Snorting in my ear he gives me a squeeze before backing away. Twist to rake my eyes over him, wishing he were wearing a bit less clothing; but, what could I do, ask him to strip down so I could oogle? Lips quirked up he drawls, “Trying to find the words to use to ask me to take my clothes off?”

Blush burning my cheeks I shrug, crouching to grab my pants. Rustle of clothing drawing my attention upwards my jaw drops, Tobin before me, hands on his hips, shirt in hand, jeans at his feet. Oh good god, he was glorious.

Eyes bright he grins and tosses his t-shirt at me. “Take that, yours is, well, a bit messy.”

Managing not to fumble the shirt I glance down at mine, the cotton sticking to my stomach. Wrinkle my nose and pull it over my head. Good thing it isn't one of my favorites, I muse as I use it to wipe the rest of my skin clean. Ball it up, frowning in my bag's direction. I could put it in there until I got home, but if I do I run the risk of my roommates digging into it to take stock of my purchases, and how the hell am I supposed to explain a cum spattered shirt?

“Complications?” he asks.

Lift my gaze to watch him buttoning his jeans. “I'm already going to face the inquisition from my roommates in regards to the mark I'm certain you left on my throat, I'm not sure I want to deal with the added onslaught of my messed shirt.”

Tip of his tongue stuck out at me he sinks down in a crouch, hands stealing the wad of fabric from me. “You could just toss it in the nearest trashcan,” he says. Smirk lopsided he motions at me. “You should really finish putting yourself back together, pretty redhead.” Finger hooking a chunk of my hair he leans in, whisper brushed over my lips, “I'd hate for you to get caught exposing yourself.”

Close the distance between us, snagging his mouth with mine. Brief slide of his tongue against mine he pulls back, trailing fingers along my jaw. Door above us banging open he climbs to his feet and glances up. Jeans up and buttoned in a blink, I tug Tobin's shirt on, breath leaving me with a rattle as the scent of his cologne and sweat enfolds me.

Name called in a curious drawl I follow his gaze to watch AJ come to the railing and look down. Brow arched Darkest Mercy's vocalist shakes his head. “Come on Tobin, stop playing with the attendees, we've got to head over for a sound check.”

Flipping him off Tobin invades my space, and murmurs, “Thank you for forgiving me for my idiot cigarette disposal.”

Brush my lips over his cheek before shooing him towards the stairs. “Go on, get out of here so I can go find my roommates and figure out how to explain to them why I'm late.” Taking one last kiss he vanishes up the stairs. Vocalist giving me an appraising look he shrugs and lifts his hand in farewell before he too leaves.

Shake my head and grab my bag from the floor. This is definitely a day I’m not going to be forgetting for a long, long time.</cut>