Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rob had feelings. 

And because of those he had a love-hate relationship with band practice. 

He never knew he had feelings for dudes, especially after his years of going girlfriend after girlfriend— well, maybe that had a reason. They mostly broke up with him, but it didn't take him long to realise he didn't actually like them. He had always been a lover boy, people calling him charming, sweet, handsome, lovable and so many more positive adjectives, and he knew that was him. His type of guy. And, really, he thought he only ever liked women, until he met the guys in his band. All 4 of them. Zubin, Joe, Ross and Andrew. All of them. 

God— he liked them. Not in a friend way, he wished it could be in a friend way, but no. He liked liked them. Ever since their first sight of each other. There was nothing specific about them that he liked— they were all beautiful, they had their own talents, they were funny, and— did he mention they were handsome? The prettiest men he ever met. The way their bodies fit in their shirts drove him crazy, ending up with his face red and hotter than anything, making them believe he was sick— but he was just sick of not being able to kiss them. All 4 of those goddamn guys— he wants to kiss them all, he always imagines things he could do with them, things he would do with them, all unrealistic and things that will never happen. Because what kind of loser has a crush on 4 different guys at the same time?

They always teased him for being so nervous around them, just driving him even crazier— soon enough he'll faint if Joe gets too close to his face with his chest one more time. Fuck, he'd kill somebody to be able to sleep on it. It looked so soft, so plush— exactly like Andrew's. He imagined him cuddling with the both of them, the mere thought already relaxing him. He has jerked off while thinking about them a few too many times, and it's starting to get embarrassing, even if he's the only one that knows. He either imagined their hand around his dick, or their mouth around it, or neither— just standing and watching him ruin himself with just his hands. He can again only imagine what the others can do with their hands. Fuck— Ross would have perfect rhythm, Joe would demean him, Zubin would tease the life out of him and Andrew would be really gentle. Rob has rewatched recordings of their own concerts that were uploaded, and oh he has seen how fast Andrew can move his hands. Maybe a little too much. Not like he rewatched those exact clips 153 times. But still he knew he would be gentle— he's a nice guy, he's not the type to go rough at all. Maybe Rob's dick also just twitched thinking about that. 

He had a band meeting today, and he was dreading it— but if he goes any later he'll be late, and he doesn't wanna upset them. He slowly dragged his feet over the floor and put on his shoes painfully slowly, grabbing his keys before finally heading out the door. He decided to take the bus— slowest option to get there. He waited and waited until the bus finally arrived. He took out his phone which vibrated due to a text from Zubin, which read— “where r u, bobby ?”

Rob texted back, “bus”. 

He waited for a response, staring at his phone. “ok, we're already there. we r waiting for u xx”

Fuck, the xx he left. Why did he have to leave an xx? His cheeks got embarrassingly warm at the action, and he tucked away his phone before getting lost in thought. With how much he was blushing, the few people in the bus might think he was texting his girlfriend or something. Or that he's drunk. Or horny. One of those, at least. Finally after what felt like forever he got off, walking towards Joe's house— he always has the instruments, for some reason. He couldn't even play half of them! Rob knocked, and after a few seconds he heard footsteps, and a pretty face greeting him once it opened the door. Rob smiled, staring at Zubin, taking long before he let out a faint “hi”. He walked in, trailing behind Zubin, meeting the others in the living room with the instruments already all set up. “Come on, what took you so long, Bobby?” Andrew said, as Rob sat down on the couch.

“Why were you guys so early? The thing technically started at 5, but you're all here 15 minutes early. Did you do this just to make fun of me?!”

“Rob, calm down, buddy— it's not that big of a deal,” Joe cooed, tossing Rob his guitar before plopping down next to him, manspreading to oblivion and nearly hitting Rob with his knee. Rob tuned it, listening to the singular strings sound, before eventually figuring out that it was good enough. The meeting was more talking rather than playing, and they were all just having fun— well, all except Rob. He was having his own fun. Having fun in his imagination, watching the others laugh and joke with each other, him not saying a word and just gazing into their eyes without them looking back. Zubin noticed this, and motioned the others to stop talking, and they all acknowledged how he was staring at Joe, which Rob barely noticed until all eyes were on him. 

“U-Uh— Hi?”

“What are you doing?”

“Mmmm— Nothing,” he mumbled, scratching his head, trying to ignore the obvious blush he was gaining because they were all staring at him. He had all their attention. And oh boy did he like it. Also, maybe— a little too much. 

“You're staring at Joe, what's wrong?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all!”

“Is there something wrong with my face? My eyes?”

“No, you're perfe—”

Rob cut himself off. Fuck, now they were all staring at him with confusion, driving him insane once more. His cheeks were red and a heat brewed in his stomach— but not an anxiety type. More like a growing boner type. Fuck, fuck, fuck— why do their eyes affect him so much?!

“Dude, do you have something to tell us?”

“No, s-stop asking questions, damnit,” he protested, crossing his legs and praying to god they won't notice the straining bulge in his pants. The rest went silent and looked around at each other while Rob refused to make eye contact with any of them. 

“I won't ask a question, I'll make a statement. You're hard, Rob,” Ross mentioned, biting his nail immediately after and hoping he won't react badly. 

Shiiiittttt…

Rob whined, and got up to leave to the bathroom in a desperate attempt to get out of that situation and help himself. 

“Is he about to jerk off in my bathroom?”

“What else is he supposed to do?”

“..Y'know what, fine, I'd do that too.”

He locked the door behind him and leaned against the sink— his dick basically bursting out of his pants already— then hurriedly opened his jeans before sliding them down. He stared down at himself, and he was really, embarrassingly hard. Just because they looked at him! He slid down his boxers next, his cock springing out and bobbing against his thigh, before spitting on his hand and starting to stroke himself. In Joe's bathroom. Fuck..

What if he was in Joe's bed? And Joe was the one jerking him off? What if it wasn't just Joe with him, and it was all of them? The thoughts overwhelmed him, again, going back to the possibilities that could happen, making him unawaringly moan their names quietly. What if they were praising him, praising him for taking them so well, what if they simply just watched, again— teasing him? Rob felt the precum meet his hand, and whimpered, acknowledging the fact that this is, infact, not the first time that he jerked off fantasizing about them. He shut out everything around him and just focused on his thoughts, clenching his eyes shut, gaining speed in his strokes before lifting his shirt up and putting the hem of it in his mouth— so it wouldn't get stained by his own cum. If only it was someone else's cum. 

Fuck!

Now the shirt already fell back out of his mouth, because he opened it to moan their names one more time, but the shirt was still rolled up. Since he shut out everything else, Rob didn't notice he was getting loud. Zubin couldn't help but listen, and managed to make out a few noises— which sounded like Rob, moaning the nicknames he had for each of them. Zubes, Joey, Andy, and Rossy. He had to admit— Rob sounded beautiful like this. 

“Do you guys like.. hear that?” he asked. 

“I was waiting for one of you guys to mention it,” Joe sighed. 

“Does he have a thing for Joe or something?”

“If he's moaning all our names then he has something for all of us, Ross.”

“Poor thing,” Zubin began— the others looking at him in confusion, “I wonder how long he has had this.”

The others shrugged and the conversation ended there, but they also didn't want to continue listening to Rob's moans— it's a little awkward, even if he does sound nice, because he doesn't know they're listening— so they just made themselves busy with random stuff. 

Rob was unbearingly close, his knees nearly giving in, whimpering and whining, babbling all their names again as he stroked as fast as he could. Soon enough he came, thick fluids meeting the floor, making his face flush in embarrassment rather than arousal. He tucked his now softening cock in his boxers, pulling his pants up and rolling his shirt back down, it being a little damp due to his saliva. He wiped the cum off the floor, disposing of it nicely— even though Joe will know that it was his cum— and washing his hands before reaching for the door and regretting everything. How is he supposed to even talk to them now? He then figured he should just immediately go home. He hesitantly unlocked the door, and a few heads turned to him as soon as he stepped out. He chuckled nervously— like some kind of corny movie character— and muttered, “I think I'll go now.”

“No, Bobby! It's boring without you,” Zubin cooed, pouting and giving Rob some kind of puppy-eyed look. Fuck, how is he supposed to resist that? “I-I— What else should I do here?” 

“Well, sit with us, obviously? Talk to your bandmates? That's what the meetings are for.”

“B-But—”

“No buts, sit your ass back down.”

Rob obeyed, sitting down on the couch next to Zubin, who then wrapped his arm around him. Rob tried to fight away the blush creeping onto his face, but failed— at least it wasn't as obvious as a few minutes ago. 

They seemed to completely ignore what Rob had just done and continued talking, this time actually including Rob. Talking and talking until Rob decided to leave, the others staying behind and deciding to talk about him. But not in the shittalking way, of course. 

“He has to be in love with at least one of us.”

“One of us? It's all of us, are you guys stupid? I thought we established that earlier!”

“Okay, okay, calm down Andrew— all of us, then. But what should we.. do? Should we even do anything about it?”

“We could test him. Make sure of it.”

The others nodded, landing in silence until Ross spoke back up. “What do you guys think about him, though? I mean like— do you feel the same, or..?”

“He's cute.”

“Agreed, he's really adorable. And nice. Generally just a great dude,” Joe added. 

“I'd totally take a chance with him.”

Meanwhile, Rob was nearly falling asleep with his outside clothes still on, laying on his bed and thinking about whatever just happened. This was probably the most embarrassing thing he has encountered due to his crush(es). He then woke himself up, deciding to change and brush his teeth before falling asleep, pushing himself up with his arms and kicking his feet onto the floor. He did so— eating something small, taking a shower, changing, then finally collapsing onto his bed, warm under the blanket. Warm until he kicked it off a bit, his torso showing. He turned to his side— then slowly ran his own hands under his shirt, rubbing his own body and breathing heavily in and out of his nose. He imagined his hands being Zubin's, Ross' or Joe's—because Andrew probably wouldn't do that— and slowly rubbed his nipple, muffled noises nearly leaving him. He squealed and squirmed underneath his own touch— embarrassing, really. There's no other way to describe his actions, it's just embarrassing. He flipped onto his back again and let go of himself, trying to go to sleep, sighing and hoping he'll get over this soon.

Chapter Text

Rob jolted and woke up due to a ringing coming from his phone. It was Bora— he groaned tiredly and picked it up, flipping on his back and looking at the ceiling. 

“Mm—Hello?”

“ROB! Surprise, buddy— we got a gig at some bar or something for the week, wake up and get yourself ready.”

“Are you serious?” he drawled.

“Yes, wakey wakey, come on! I'll see you later, Bobby. Meeting at Joe's house.”

Rob didn't get to respond before Bora hung up. He groaned again before sitting up, rubbing his eyes, running his hands through his messy hair before eventually getting up. He shuffled over to his bathroom, splashing water on his face to wake himself up, before drying his face and putting on his glasses. He yawned, and stumbled his way back out, then grabbing some clothes from his closet and throwing them on. He did the same with packing, taking random ass clothes and chucking them in a bag, not making sure he had enough of anything at all. He probably just forgot half his things, but he's too tired to care. He only made sure he had his guitar, tie, dress shirt and the pants + belt he always wore, and looked at the time— 7 am. Why is Bora like this?

He collapsed back onto his bed, his phone vibrating once more, and he took it out of his pocket to check— a message from Joe. 

“did bora just call u too?”

“yes. and im so annoyed.”

Rob nearly fell back asleep before Joe texted back. “should i pick you up?”

Rob's stomach fluttered, for whatever reason. It's a fucking text Rob, why are you like this, he told himself, before texting back “sure”. His chest rose and fell, and he got himself back up, going to the kitchen to make himself a coffee, because like this he won't survive a day. Quickly brewed himself some— probably not doing it properly, but oh well— adding whatever the hell to not make it taste so bitter, nearly chugging it before going back to text Joe to ask when he's coming— right when his door knocked. Rob was now wide awake. He walked over to the door, unlocking it and peeking his head out, seeing an also tired Joe. 

“Your hair's wet,” Rob mumbled. 

“Great observation, yeah— I just showered.”

Rob nodded, opening the door a little more and rubbing his eye with his palm, before grabbing his bag and guitar and going back to the entrance. Joe led the way, walking out the apartment and to his car, opening the door for Rob and bowing like some kind of waiter. Rob chuckled before sitting down, allowing Joe to take his stuff, yawning and rubbing his eyes one last time. 

“You didn't have to do this, y'know? I could've gone by myself, it's like 5 minutes,” Rob said as Joe started driving. 

“Yeah, but you already came late yesterday, we don't want that happening again.”

Rob chuckled again, dragging his gaze to outside the window. He stared out of it, a few good minutes, before he felt a hand on his knee. Then his thigh. It didn't take a lot of thinking to know it was Joe's. He flinched, but didn't move— god knows why he didn't— until they arrived and the hand pulled back away. He shifted his head to look at Joe, and asked, “What the hell was that?”

Joe said nothing, only winked and made a clicking sound before getting out of the car. Rob's cheeks flushed right back up, staring at the empty spot Joe was just in, before he scrambled to get out because Joe tapped on his window. Joe carried his stuff inside, like he couldn't do it himself, again opening and holding the door for Rob. The van was already parked outside, and Bora was already there, making him, Joe and Rob the first ones there. 

“I'm tired,” Rob groaned, collapsing on the couch where Bora already sat. “Then sleep.”

“Okay.”

It was silent for a few minutes until Rob started quietly snoring. 

“Wait, I was kidding,” Bora whispered to Joe. “C'mon, leave him be— he wasn't prepared to wake up this early.”

“It's not that early!”

“It is for him,” Joe concluded, getting close to Rob, and crouching before playing with his hair a bit. He combed it with his fingers, smoothing it out, making Bora stare at the both of them in confusion. “Why are you doing that?”

“His hair is messy.”

“It looks gay.”

“Oh, Rob is gay. He's in love with all of us, apparently.”

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“That's so Rob, oh my god.”

Joe continued running his hands through his hair until the others eventually arrived. Joe gently shook him, waking him up, whispering to him that they'd be leaving now and standing up to exit. Rob followed, again yawning, making his way to the van with his stuff in his hands. The others were putting their things and instruments inside, Ross and Rob just standing next to them. Ross looked at him, said “You look cute today,” patted his back, then left him standing there to get inside. Rob sputtered, his face again flushing up— the 2nd time this day, and it's only around 8— mind rushing but still not being able to make out a thought. He ended up in the very back with Andrew next to him— Joe was driving, Bora next to him, Zubin and Ross being in the middle. Rob threw his head back, humming, still incredibly tired and just wanting to be back in bed. 

Eventually, about 30 minutes later, Andrew scooted closer to him, laying his head on Rob's shoulder before intertwining their fingers. Rob jolted, and looked down at him, questioning everything and having quite the obvious puzzled look on his face. “‘m tired,” Andrew drawled, before slowly falling asleep on Rob. He felt his hand become sweaty, and tried to remove them— but whenever he pulled, Andrew squeezed tighter. Rob eventually accepted it, his face still abnormally red, falling asleep as well with his fingers still intertwined with Andrew's. Why were they all so.. lovey dovey today?

The atmosphere was calm, at least Rob and Andrew's. It was disrupted once they arrived, by Bora shouting “wake up, sleepy-heads,” and slapping them playfully. They piled out of the van— Rob was now a little less tired after basically cuddling with Andrew— and made their way to the hotel Bora booked. Nothing special, nothing expensive, just a hotel. Average one. Little small, maybe, but whatever. As long as they could sleep, it's okay. Bora checked them in, and they were all in one room— not ideal for Rob, but being alone with somebody else would probably be worse, so he'll take this. Once arrived at the room, Rob managed to snag one of the beds near a wall— basically in a corner— avoiding being next to more than one person. Rob threw himself onto it, right before Bora spoke again— “Nuh uh, no time for sitting, get ready for the performance.”

“What? Already?”

“Yes, now come on, boy,” Bora commanded jokingly. Rob sighed, digging for the shirt n' tie somewhere in his bag, eventually finding them with his pants. He debated going to the bathroom to change— figured he doesn't care and just prayed the others wouldn't look, deciding to just change there. He was kinda hurrying himself though, so he might look a little messy, but he didn't want to care and just rolled up his sleeves and straightened the shirt a bit by dragging his hands over it. He stood up, along with the others, going back to the van for just a 3–5 minute drive— for the sake of not carrying their instruments all the way there. 

~~

In the van, again— now that everybody mostly wasn't tired anymore, they were chatty. 

“We're just like the Beatles! Isn't this how they started becoming famous? By also playing at a bar?”

“That was a club, Andrew, and I'm pretty sure we're not gonna end up like the Beatles.”

“I'm obviously kidding, Joe, I know much more about the Beatles than you.”

“Hey! You wanna bet?!”

“Okay, okay— stop fighting over some British dudes,” Rob chuckled, patting Joe on his shoulder. Joe scoffed playfully and waved it off, going back to looking out the window normally until they eventually arrived at the place. 

“This place looks like it smells.”

“It probably does. It's a bar, after all.”

Brought their instruments inside, started preparing the stage— that everybody else did, except Rob and Zubin. They sat backstage— Rob was mentally preparing himself for the performance, Zubin was just there for emotional support, supposingly. They were both sitting down, next to eachother, Rob desperately trying to ignore and pretend that he didn't know Zubin was staring at him. “Your tie isn't straight,” he spoke, flicking his eyes from his face to his chest then back up. 

“Eh,” Rob muttered, waving it off. “No, let me fix it,” Zubin said, getting up— really close to Rob. Like, abnormally close— which then became even closer when Zubin sat on his lap, now straddling him. Rob could feel Zubin's breath on his neck, and freaked the fuck out internally, silently panicking and being speechless at whatever the hell Zubin was doing right now. Zubin undid his tie, slowly tieing it again, adjusting Rob's collar and making sure he looked good. He cupped Rob's cheek, gently patting it before getting up and walking to the others. Rob was just left there, completely dumbfounded. Memories from earlier that day flashed through his mind— Joe putting his hand on his thigh, Ross complimenting him, Andrew holding his hand and now Zubin. How do you even describe what he just did? His thoughts were interrupted by Joe calling him to go onstage. 

~~

They performed for what felt like forever, what also basically was forever— once they left the building the sun was set. It was awful, honestly— it reeked of alcohol, the place was abnormally warm, and it was really loud, only around half of the audience were even listening. Basically torture. Well, torture, except for when Rob looked at the others again. The sweat dripping off of Joe, Zubin constantly flipping his hair back, Andrew adjusting his glasses and Ross' focused face in general whenever he played drums. God, they were perfect.. so perfect. 

They all collectively let out huge sighs of relief once they exited the building. “Oh my fuck, finally— fresh air at last,” Zubin moaned, running his hands through his hair and slightly brushing his bangs out of his face. “We're out, it's okay, Zubin,” Joe assured, wrapping his arm around Zubin with him then returning the favour. They threw themselves back in the van after loading their instruments in, Joe laying down across both Zubin's and Rob's laps, his head very specifically on Rob's. Zubin was constantly fingerdrumming on Joe's knee, and Rob very hesitantly, slowly put his hand on Joe's hair, sweating and terrified even though he knows nothing will happen. Gently massaging his scalp, Rob was proud of himself for doing so, smiling to himself and gazing back into Joe's eyes. Until Joe looked back into his. Then he quickly tore the gaze from him, quickly looking out the window and pretending nothing happened— although he was horrible at pretending. Joe just chuckled, and went back to talking, gently raising his hand and placing it on the back of Rob's neck. His stomach fluttered, again, and he tried ignoring it, which did help a little. 

“Sorry to bother you, but remember we're doing this for the week,” Bora reminded, grinning an evil smile while looking back at the band. They all groaned in sync, muttering complaints all at the same time. Bora chuckled at the unamusement— Schadenfreude, Rob thought, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back against the head-rest.

Eventually arrived at the hotel, again— they all collapsed onto their beds, Ross and Andrew sharing one, because “they were the shortest”. Rob didn't really understand that or how it made sense, but he accepted it— again, better than him sharing a bed with anybody else. They collectively unwinded, taking turns in the bathroom, Rob choosing to be last because he wanted to see the others after showering, which was a little weird, he'll admit— but he can't help it. Eventually after about 2 hours or so—why did they need so long to just shower?— they were all finished, except Rob, he was struggling a bit. 

“Fuck,” he scream-whispered. “What's up?”

“I don't have a shirt to wear to bed! I knew i forgot something,” he complained, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to figure out what to do. “You can have one of mine,” Joe recommended, before rummaging through his bag and finding one rather quickly, tossing it to Rob with him catching it. “Really?”

“Yeah, I overpacked anyway.”

Rob put it on, feeling warm again already, before finally letting himself rest in his bed. The large light was turned off— and after a bit of chatting, the singular lamp was then off, and they all fell to rest. Rob was again, having a bit of troubles, not getting Joe's scent out of his mind. Since he had his shirt on, it smelled like his cologne, and generally just like Joe, and he couldn't stop thinking about it. It's so weird, really— enjoying the smell of somebody else who isn't your partner a little too much. It's as if he were some crazy stalker who just cut off a lock of their crush's hair, admiring the scent and being just weird about it. He was so weird about Joe and the rest of the band. The memories flashed through his mind again— plus Joe giving him his shirt now— and to that he fell asleep. After a long, long day— with odd events, and a concert slash performance thing, which unfortunately will also be tomorrow. And the rest of the week. Rob cannot wait for this to be over. 

Chapter Text

To his surprise, Rob woke up first. Groaning and rubbing his eyes, he wanted to do everything except wake up, but still he did— sitting up and resting against the head of the bed. He decided to try and not get sexual thoughts about the others today, quite the pathetic and odd challenge— still hard for him to do. He'll just try to suppress them, and hope that the others won't do anything to feed into his imagination, which will.. hopefully be easy. He got up and went to the bathroom, doing his little morning routine, and once he got back out the others were already awake and chatty. He waved and let out a quiet “morning”, the rest then returning it. Once sat down on his bed, Ross got up and sat next to him, slinging his arm around Rob's shoulder. There's no way that Rob just woke up 20 minutes ago and already started to blush. He returned the favour, though— trying to ignore it and hoping it'll go away. 

This morning they had a lot more time, due to not needing to pack and drive all the way there, and everything was a little more relaxed. Apparently, also— they didn't have to perform for that long today, either. Maybe today won't be so bad, Rob thought, before getting snapped out of his thoughts by somebody out of the 5 other people calling his name. He really needs to work on that..

“We said we're gonna get breakfast, if you didn't hear,” Bora said, standing up with the others following. Rob trailed behind them and eventually caught up, resting his hand on Zubin's shoulder. Zubin raised his hand and squeezed Rob's arm in return, only for a short amount of time and after that he immediately let go. Rob found this odd, maybe in a good way— well, probably in a good way; any kind of touch from Zubin is great. Always, no matter what. 

The hotel's food wasn't the best, in Rob's opinion— the eggs he had were soggy, and the toast was a little rubbery. The others didn't seem to mind all that much, though, they were eating normally and again just chatting like they always did. It was a wonder how they always had something to talk about— that's just the good part about being friends. They were discussing something stupid, Rob wasn't exactly paying attention, like always— just distracted in his thoughts. He only heard how Bora had the last word then told them to shut up and eat a little faster, all in a joking matter— he's never actually rude. It's always just playful, Bora's a nice guy. 

Rob's fingers were less than mere inches away from Andrew's. He watched as Andrew's fingers twitched, and their pinkies touched. Andrew's hands were so soft.. so pretty, Rob wants to hold them fully. He brought all the courage in his body just to bring their hands even closer, until Rob's was on top of Andrew's. The others noticed this, but just looked at eachother— they know why Rob is doing this, so they'll just leave it be. Rob used his other hand to cover his completely red face— he was so proud of himself, but also really worried that Andrew would pull away, but he didn't. Just kept it there. Fuck, Rob loved this. 

“O-kay, enough of— whatever that is, let's get up,” Bora announced, and Rob removed his hand, slightly pouting because he had to. They all collectively stood up, and walked back to their room— hanging out there, changing, and getting ready for the concert; just like yesterday. Basically the exact same, actually, they left to load the van at nearly the same time as yesterday and took the same amount of time to set up the stage and such, before they knew it they were performing for another day. 

~~

Today, after the concert— the sun was only half set; doesn't sound like that much of a difference, but it was. They cleared the stage, went back, and since they weren't that exhausted this time they decided to change and do some other stuff. 

“Gonna go and get some drinks, call me if you need anything,” Rob said, grabbing his headphones and putting on his shoes, also taking one of the 6 key cards they had for the room. “Bring me one too!” Zubin called. 

“Me three,” Joe added. Rob nodded, then waved goodbye, closing the door behind him and walking down the long hallway of their floor. He counted his money on the way there, making sure he had enough to get 3 drinks, which he also did, luckily. In the store, he just chose 3 bottles of coke, basic but the easiest option— paid for them, then made his way back. Quite the short trip, it was— on the way he was just humming to the songs that were playing in his ears and maybe even dissecting the instruments, figuring out what is playing and how, just for the fun of it. Rob opened the door, pulled down his headphones and placed the three bottles of coke on the first platform he found— seeing Joe and Zubin sitting on one of their beds, chatting. “Hey, Bobby,” Zubin cooed, tilting his head. “Hi. Where are the others?”

“Bora went somewhere, I don't know where exactly, and he made Ross and Andrew tag along. I'm glad you're here, though— come sit next to us,” Zubin said, patting the empty space between Joe and Zubin. Rob just sat down on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes and looking at the both of them. They had smiles on their faces— pretty smiles on pretty faces, Rob thought. “We want you here. Right here, next to me and Zubin.” There wasn't that much space, in Rob's opinion— but he still listened, crawling to them and placing himself right where they wanted him to be. Their thighs met— Joe's against Rob's right, and Zubin's on his left. “It's hot, isn't it?” Zubin said. 

“U-Uh, maybe.. yeah.”

“Do you want to get comfortable?”

“I'm.. I am comfortable.”

“You have long things on, surely you aren't.”

“Yeah.. fair.. point,” Rob mumbled, rolling his sleeves and pants up. He tensed up once he felt Zubin's hand on his thigh, with Joe's hand slowly tangling in his hair, both the men smirking. He could not fight the blush one bit— his face instantly became red, and they were both pressing themselves against him, not helping at all. They got close, really close, close enough that he could feel their breaths against his neck and face. Zubin began to whisper into his ear— “Have anything to tell us, Rob?” 

“No,” Rob lied, trying to figure out what to do. 

“Are you sure? Not any feelings for anybody, really?” 

“I—” 

Rob's voice trailed off, and he sighed, his mind scrambling to find words to say. 

“Not even for us?”

Zubin's voice was deep and quiet, a tone he had never heard, even in their years of friendship— the first time this was used and also the way Rob found out he was even capable of such. Way to feed into his imagination. Joe's hand ran to his neck, and Zubin's hand slowly creeped upwards, making Rob tense even more. “Maybe,” he managed to blurt out, the answer barely even making sense. “We want an honest and clear answer, Rob,” Joe added, again smiling. Rob sighed a faint ‘fuck’, and decided to be honest, who knows why— “Yes. I do have feelings for.. some of you.”

“Some?”

“...all of you.”

“That's more like it.”

With that, Zubin let go of him, sitting up, Joe following— Rob letting out a sigh of relief once he felt that nobody was pressed against him— both now looking at him from their positions. 

“Do you want anything from us? Y'know, any fantasies to come true?”

Rob opened his mouth, but closed it again, feeling that the words he wanted to speak were too.. whatever. Just not something good. 

“Speak your mind, Rob.”

He stayed silent, again, his eyes widened and looking at his own hands. Then Zubin's. Then Joe's. “If you don't want anything, we'll just stop— won't we, Zubin?”

“Mhm.”

The tone of hum and voice was a little too intimate and seductive for Rob to not say anything. “Wait—”

They looked back at him, Zubin raising his eyebrows, still smirking— knowing exactly what Rob was thinking. “What’s up?”

“I do, have fantasies of you..”

“Like?”

He sighed and again looked at his hands before looking back up at them, then finally spoke— “Your hands all over me..”

“Aha,” Zubin began, getting back closer before placing his hand on his inner thigh— “like this?”

Rob nodded, and nearly whimpered, his pants feeling ever so slightly tighter. Zubin started circling his hand, watching Rob nearly squirm at just that— Joe joining in and getting close to his neck before attaching his lips to it. Rob jolted at the action and shuddered, clenching the bedsheets under the three of them and quietly moaning. Joe placed a hand on his chest, rubbing his thumb against a nipple through the long sleeve Rob had on, placing the other on his waist. Zubin's hand moved back up, again, this time ending up fully on Rob's crotch before lightly pressing down, rubbing his palm against the head of his dick. Rob's moans became louder, and once Joe bit down he basically screamed before rushing his hand to silence himself. Zubin and Joe both chuckled lightly, watching him break down just because of their hands and kisses. The poor people in the room next door. Now Rob indeed felt hot, but it's hard to take off anything when there are two bodies pressed against your sides, basically trapping your arms. No other choice but to ask. 

“Please— Clothes— off, it's too hot—”

Zubin hummed, and listened, slowly starting to unbutton his tight slacks and dragging the tab of the zipper down, sliding them off and tossing them off the bed. Joe, having already let go of his neck, noticed the darker spot in Rob's grey boxers, and couldn't help but tease him— “So eager already, aren't you? You've been waiting for this since forever.” 

Rob nodded profusely, tightening his grip on the bedsheets until his knuckles turned white, watching as Joe climbed onto him and towered over him. “I'll fuck you in this exact position, alright?”

“Mhm..”

“Zubin— could you go through my bag? There's some lube in there, if I remember correctly.”

“Damn, you're always prepared, aren't you?”

“You never know what opportunities could come up,” Joe chuckled, pulling Rob in for a kiss, sliding his tongue over his. Zubin eventually found the bottle— placing it on the bed as he sat down and Joe let go. “Oh, you'll definitely need preparation for me— is it alright if Zubin does it?”

Rob nodded once more, so Joe rolled over in some weird ninja style nearly falling off the bed— making Zubin chuckle but also look at him in some puzzled but pleased way. Joe smiled back, and laid down next to Rob, tangling his hand back in his hair and grabbing his left hand. Zubin slid off Rob's boxers, watching his cock bob against his stomach, red and leaking— smiling before evenly lubricating his fingers. Rob wrapped his legs around Zubin, lifting his hips for him. 

“Ready?”

“Mm,” Rob mumbled, pursing his lips as he felt Zubin's cold middle finger inside of him. Zubin slowly slid it in and then back out, basically finger-fucking him— whines and moans leaving Rob's lips. He added another finger, making Rob's hips stutter once more, the precum of his already staining his shirt a little. Damn, he planned to wear that at least one more time this week— well, that plan is out of the window. He felt Zubin's fingers curl and ghost against his prostate, making him moan and squeeze Joe's hand. After a few more moments of Zubin curling and scissoring his fingers, he pulled them out— Rob wincing at the absence of something inside of him. Wiping his hand clean on the bedsheets— asshole move, Zubin, you're at a hotel—he slowly slid Rob's shirt off, tossing it off the bed, the clothing then hitting against the hardwood floor. Joe, next to him, had already taken off his pants— cock fully exposed and hard, and from what Rob saw, also twitching a little. Zubin moved back away, filling in Joe's spot but from the opposite side, now running his right hand through Rob's hair. As Zubin struggled his pants off with just his left hand, Joe was applying lube onto his dick, slicking it up, lowering the chance of any friction coming up with every stroke of his. Joe also wiped his hand on the bed, before using it to grip Rob's hips, lifting them so he'd have better access to him, using his other to slightly spread him out. Rob let out a noise, a noise which was a mix of a gasp, moan and some unknown word, using that to signal Joe to get on with it. Joe slowly pushed himself into Rob's hole— at the same time, Zubin was gently stroking himself next to Rob, also pursing his lips and holding back groans, until he felt Rob's fingers curl around his dick. 

“Awh— I didn't even have to tell you, you're so sweet,” Zubin cooed, slowly starting to pant, rolling his hips into Rob's hand. Damn, he was usually never this weak— guess Rob's hand was just.. different. Joe's thrusting into Rob and Rob slowly jerking Zubin off, they all had a matching pace, somehow— perks of being in a band, presumably. Rob gasped and moaned even more, only getting louder once Joe's hand moved from his hips to his cock— now also gently stroking it. The pace was again, perfectly matched— but way too slow for Rob's liking, so he let out a long, quiet, pathetic “faster”, dragging his words and whimpering even more. His flushed skin and faint bruises appearing on his neck— fuck, this was exactly what he always imagined. Joe's thrusts getting rougher along with the movement on Rob's dick, getting him to also jerk Zubin off faster, him biting his lip and clenching one eye shut— the other watching Rob's thin fingers around his dick, slightly squeezing him and rubbing his thumb against the head from time to time. His gaze averted to Rob's forearm— the veins that were visible were beautiful—then his body, inspecting the little amount of hairs that covered it; basically nowhere except his arms, legs and around his cock, just a little on his chest. So beautiful, like he was barely even real. 

Now, Rob was reaching his limit— he already thought about just denying it, but no, if he cums now it'll be more intense than anything ever before. Tightening himself around Joe and squeezing Zubin a little more, he lost control, moaning and babbling everything that came to mind, mostly Joe's and Zubin's names, before he came— spurts of cum shooting onto his chest, plus Joe's hand. It was only shortly after that Joe came, pulling out and adding to the puddle of cum on Rob's chest, Zubin also eventually following and cumming onto Rob's face. Quite the embarrassing situation. Rob was a mess, and he silently giggled at himself— Joe and Zubin also doing the same, laughing as they cleaned Rob up. They covered themselves with the blanket, close together due to the lack of space— both the guitarist and bassist whispering praises into Rob's ear, kissing him a few more times on the neck, his face then lips, admiring the marks they left. 

“Took us so well..”

“You did wonderful, Bobby.”

“You look so pretty when you're a mess.”

“You're beautiful in general, don't forget that.”

They laid there, cuddled up and still showering Rob with kisses and affection— until they heard a voice speak up. 

“Well, hope you 3 had fun,” Bora mocked, Andrew and Ross behind him— their cheeks warming up as they thought about what Joe, Rob and Zubin just did. 

Chapter Text

Rob woke up in the arms of both Zubin and Joe— very specifically, his back to Zubin and his face buried in Joe's naked chest. All three leg pairs were tangled, the only one who didn't have boxers on was Rob, which felt a little weird— but he could live with it. Both Joe and Zubin had the faint scent of sweat— which was, for whatever reason, nice at this moment; probably because it's them. If it was anybody else, he'd probably find it disgusting. Rob hummed, the faint sunlight that was shining through the small gap between the curtains was specifically shining on his face, and after blinking a few times he noticed Ross staring out the window. Not wanting to bother him, he left Ross alone, not exactly wanting to change his position in fear of waking up the two men clasped onto him. 

He heard the sound of a bed creaking, alerting that somebody woke up. It wasn't coming from Bora's direction, so he knew it was Andrew who now woke up. Now that he thought about it, since 2 beds were free right now, why didn't Andrew sleep in one of them, and instead stayed with Ross? 

He lifted his head up carefully to try and whisper a good morning, but instead, he watched as Andrew stood up and went over to Ross— grabbing his chin before pulling him in for a morning kiss. 

Ross and Andrew were dating?!

Not that Rob had anything against it. He just knew that now, his chances with them became much, much lower. He knew they probably wouldn't be as open as Joe and Zubin, so they probably weren't looking for a third anytime soon. Rob couldn't lie— he did feel a little heartbroken at the thought. One might call him greedy for that, which Rob also slowly started to think he was, because he already fucked two men just the night before— but his fantasies were about all of them, not just those two, so it's only fair that he feels a little bad. 

He heard Ross and Andrew chatting a bit, but didn't want to listen, because they might be talking about something personal, or something. He only made out a few words— like “love you”, “sweetheart” or other nicknames— until Joe woke up. Rob sighed, Joe stretched and yawned, letting out a “morning, Bobby” in a tired voice. Rob said good morning back, finally stretching out his legs after what felt like forever— now Joe's face was at Rob's neck. Joe chuckled, and breathed against it before leaning in to give a kiss right there— Rob jolting, being quick to push Joe away as he laughed in return. The playful fight seemed to wake Zubin up, and he was quick to sit up to judge the two other men on their bed. 

Rob mirrored Zubin, sitting up as well— and when he glanced at Ross and Andrew, they seemed to be acting all normal again. They seem to be good at hiding secrets. 

“Did you three sleep well?”

“Yea, Andy, thanks for asking,” Zubin replied, moving his hand to Rob's naked shoulder and patting him there. “Please put clothes on,” Ross sighed. 

Zubin laughed, but still listened and got up to change— Ross quickly looked away, and blocked the sight with his hand, absolutely not wanting to see Zubin almost naked. Andrew giggled at him, and Ross only smiled back. 

Joe looked at them and hummed—seems like he also suspected something between them—before throwing the blanket off him and walking over to his bag somewhere sprawled out in the room. He grabbed a few clothes and put them on, not really caring about the fact that the others could see him. 

Rob still sat in bed, eyeing everybody around him—he was surprised how Bora was still asleep—kind of trapped in bed. 

“Why aren't you getting up?” Joe asked. 

“I don't have any clothes on, idiot,” Rob grumbled, straightening his messy hair with his fingers. “Oh.”

Joe waited a few seconds until Zubin got out the bathroom to respond. “Zubin, help your boyfriend out,” he said, pushing him aside to get to the bathroom as well. “With what?!”

“Give him his clothes,” he answered, closing and locking the door quickly. 

Zubin obliged, going over to rummage through Rob's baggage to find clean clothes, which he also did— walking over to the bed and handing him his clothing, sitting down next to him right after. 

“Uh— me and Andrew can go out so he can change comfortably,” Ross requested, already standing up and pulling Andrew with him by the hand. Zubin just gave them a thumbs up, before turning back to Rob and kissing him on top of his head. 

The door closed, and Rob finally removed the blanket off his hips. “Your dick looks nice,” Zubin teased, earning a nudge with the elbow from Rob. He pulled his boxers on, then his pants, putting his shirt on after. 

“Nice shirt,” he said, pulling at the thin fabric just to specify what he was talking about. “Are you just saying that ‘cause you gave me it as a gift, Zubes?”

“Maybe.”

They both laughed, before eventually pulling each other into another kiss. Joe finally exited the bathroom right after, too— going back to his bag, searching for something, and when he found it, he pulled it out. It looked an awful lot like an airhorn. 

He went up to the sleeping Bora— getting real close to his ears, right before pressing the button; the comical noise causing everybody in the room to flinch except for Joe. 

Bora was definitely awake now— and he wasn't hesitant when he slapped Joe right across the face. “Fuck you, dude— Who brings an airhorn to a hotel?!”

“Me. Just for this very situation,” he laughed, tossing the thing back in his bag. “If you don't see it in there anymore and find it burnt in the woods don't be surprised.”

“Oh come on, Bora— it's not that bad.”

“My ears are ringing!”

Rob and Zubin were just holding back wheezes from the scene, nearly failing to do so as Bora flipped them off with a very pissed off expression. 

When Ross and Andrew walked back in, their hairs were slightly messier than before. Rob was quick to notice this— he knows exactly how their hair looks like when they wake up and when they actually style it. This did not look like either of those categories. 

“What did you guys do out there?”

“Nothing,” Ross smiled, his and Andrew's cheeks a slight pink. Zubin raised his eyebrows and hummed, glancing at Joe before looking back at Rob. 

Now they weren't so good at hiding secrets anymore, apparently. 

Bora was still rubbing his eyes and groaning, so incredibly pissed off he didn't even want to look at anybody. “Cheer up, guy,” Joe smiled— Bora close to standing up and punching Joe in the face. Instead of harming his friend, he muttered a quiet “fuck off”. 

Rob got up to use the bathroom long after Joe came out. Meanwhile the others were speaking. 

“If I ever did anything with Rob,” Andrew questioned, “would you guys get mad?”

“No. I mean, he's probably still in love with all of us, he just got lucky with me and Joe. Not like we're official yet— but I still love him!”

Andrew nodded and turned to Ross, again smiling as he raised his eyebrows— an obvious smug expression showing. Ross seemed to read his mind, the others not so much— he nodded, and then the two went back to normal almost immediately. Just a few minutes after that interaction did Rob exit the bathroom. 

Joe, Zubin and Rob all found their behavior and their way of communicating with each other odd— Bora being too busy being angry to give a shit—constantly sharing confused glances every time they got too close or acted a little too friendly. 

“Gonna head to breakfast. Don't wanna miss it,” Joe called, grabbing one of the room keys and already nearly heading out the door. The others were quick to follow, Bora just muttered “I'll catch up eventually”, Rob giving him a small wave before closing the door as the last person to leave the room. On the way, Zubin grabbed Rob's hand, and he was quick to start blushing— still accepting it, letting out a deep breath. 

He gave Zubin an awkward smile, Zubin returning the gesture— and they continued walking normally until they eventually found a table where they could all sit together. Bora arrived about 10 minutes after the others— being forced to sit next to Joe, because every other seat was taken.

“You guys didn't even offer to wait for me!”

“Well, you said you'd catch up, so why would we?”

“To be nice, Joseph, do you not have common sense?”

Joe laughed, others only quietly snickering, and Bora just looked at him in pure disgust before getting up to get something to eat. 

-

After breakfast, they did their usual routine before the concerts during this week— getting ready and hanging out before driving there. It'll be the same every day, really, because it's always the same thing. Soon enough their performances will only consist of covers because they already performed all their songs at least once there. 

During the concert, it also felt quite boring for Rob, because there was nothing new and really just some new faces. The place itself didn't change one bit, and it probably wouldn't— so, no point in looking at everything inside for the 3rd time. He stared at the others again— getting lost in their beauty, their hands; oh, maybe a bit too much in their hands. He was so lucky he memorized these songs, and could basically play them with his eyes closed— if he couldn't, he'd be done for right now. He turned his head, now instead of facing Zubin he was glaring Andrew up and down— his imagination running, running through thoughts of Andrew, Ross and himself. Running too much, in fact. 

His slacks felt tighter. 

Oh, please— not again. 

His face became red and he pursed his lips, trying to discreetly lower his guitar, his fingers still somehow playing almost perfectly. A few missed notes won't kill anybody, will they?

Fuck, it was hot, so damn hot, his tie was choking him and the shirt was sticking to every part of skin it found. Sweat was dripping down his face, just like Joe's usually does, and his glasses were slightly foggy at the edges, just because of the immense heat on his cheeks— it was basically unreal. 

After they finished playing the song, Rob had to switch his guitar— meaning his boner could've been seen by somebody, but luckily for him; the others were being introduced by Zubin—which they for some reason haven't done there yet—so attention was drawn away from him until he finally strapped his acoustic guitar around himself. 

But also unluckily for him, Andrew saw him. Saw how worked up he was. 

Now, he can't just leave him alone, can he?

Andrew didn't comment right there, just turned back to his keyboard as they already started playing the next song. Rob had to sing, which he also did, basically forgetting about his hard-on as he got lost in the lyrics. He was trying to only focus on his guitar-playing and song-singing, which worked, and he was distracted for a good while— until, again, the set ended. Now he had to sneak past everybody else, and he has done that before— so, how hard can it be?

He packed up his guitar, and was the first to leave— before he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. Does this have to be now?

“Bobby,” the soft voice cooed, “you okay?”

Rob refused to turn around and look at the guy talking to him, and he just mumbled “Yeah. I'm okay.”

“Rob.”

He sucked in a breath and finally turned to face the green tie. He looked at Rob with puppy-dog eyes, making his face hotter in mere seconds. Rob's gaze wandered from his eyes to his freckled cheeks, which he found adorable. “Look at me,” Andrew spoke. 

He obliged, and moved his gaze back. “I know what's going on.”

Rob whined, letting his face fall into his own hands. “Please don't make fun of me,” he pleaded.

“Absolutely not— C’mere,” Andrew whispered, grabbing Rob by the hand— dragging him to a quieter, not very obvious spot in the backstage area. Andrew trapped him against a wall—as in, pushed him against one and placed himself in front of him; Rob wasn't the one to fight back—and smiled at him, leaning closer, wrapping his arms around his neck. Rob stammered at the lack of space between them, and scream-whispered— “W-What about Ross?”

“He'll follow up,” Andrew assured, before leaning even closer and pressing their lips together— Rob whimpering before immediately melting into it and grabbing Andrew's waist as his cock twitched in the confined space of his pants. During this kiss, during the sucking of lower lips— Andrew slowly undid Rob's belt with his right hand, making him jolt, and almost immediately whine again. Rob's ears perked up at the sound of his own fly unzipping, and not by his hands, which felt odd but also wonderful— and he, again, flinched at the feeling of a hand reaching into his boxers and rubbing against the head of his cock; he whimpered, and broke the kiss in a desperate attempt to catch his breath, because apparently they forgot that they also have to breathe. Andrew again chuckled at Rob's face, planting his other hand on his left cheek. 

In the same second did Ross come from around the corner. He was quick to spot them, and his eyes widened— but he smiled immediately, and said; “You were quick, Andy.”

Andrew's lips formed a smile again—for like the 4th time—, and he adjusted Rob's head to look at Ross— “Look how cute he is when he's worked up!”

Ross took a few steps closer, slinging his left arm around Rob's shoulder, before saying “He really is.”

Rob's lips pursed, and he bucked his hips into Andrew's forgotten hand in his pants— making both Ross and Andrew laugh. “God, you're really desperate,” Ross teased, moving his hand from Rob's shoulder to his hair, gently grabbing it. Rob whined, hissed, and clenched his eyes shut—again snapping his hips involuntarily into Andrew's hand as both the men around him continued laughing at his actions. 

Andrew took the hand out his pants before slowly getting on his knees, Rob's eyes widening once more. “Here?!”

Andrew nodded, and softly took Rob's leaking, rock-hard cock out of his abnormally tight boxers— Rob humming at the sudden feeling of fresh air against his dick, holding his hips back to not thrust into Andrew's face. Andrew then slowly but surely took the head of Rob's dick into his mouth, readjusting his tongue to be placed underneath his shaft before gently starting to move—Rob immediately whining, with Ross placing a hand on Andrew's head as support, rubbing his thumb against the soft, dark brown hair of Andrew's. “Making such pretty noises,” Ross whispered, lightly tugging Rob's hair as he continued moaning at the light contact, so sensitive and so horny. Andrew took more of Rob's cock in after a while of teasing the tip with his tongue—working on more, but not all of it, sucking not too hard but also not too soft. 

“Is he making you feel good?” Ross asked, “I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinion right now.” 

“Y-Yes—” Rob gasped, throwing his head back in pleasure, making Ross tug just a little harder— “Great, now I'm 100% sure he'd adore continuing after that.”

Andrew eventually took Rob's whole cock in, almost barely gagging—his movements slowly gaining speed, and strength; Rob's moans becoming a little too loud, making Ross release the grip on his hair and instead hold his mouth shut— “Too loud, Bobby— there are other people here,” he cooed, right before giving Rob a supportive smile. He nodded in response, and his hips stuttered— stuttered as Andrew's mouth engulfed his whole length in warmth, as he felt more precum leak uncontrollably out of his tip. Now Ross readjusted his hand once more— this time, he grabbed Rob's chin, and pulled him into a gentle kiss as more whines bubbled up in his throat that he had to suppress to keep the kiss intact, Ross also resisting the urge to smile wider than ever at the fact he (Andrew too, but that doesn't matter) had control over Rob right then. Rob's spit started running down his chin as his jaw became slack, his groans and moans becoming low in tone— his hips twitched, twitched once more; but now, only because he was getting close to his orgasm. 

"Close—" he moaned, letting both his hands travel to Andrew's hair instead of awkwardly grabbing pieces of clothing he found, grabbing it and lightly forcing him further onto his dick—which barely worked, because he basically had the whole thing in his mouth already—thrusting his hips into him, aggressively and rapidly before finally finishing onto the back of his throat. Rob panted, and wiped the spit off his chin, glancing at Ross and then Andrew— who was staring up at him through his eyelashes as he pulled off, swallowing every drop of cum Rob left. 

Andrew too wiped his mouth, also catching his breath, smiling at Rob. He slowly stood up, and gave Ross a kiss on the top of the head before giving Rob one on the lips. 

“You're both really cute,” Andrew hummed as Rob tucked himself back into his boxers and redid his belt. 

Rob smiled in appreciation, with Ross nodding as well. “You too,” he smiled. 

“I think that's enough fucking your bandmates, Rob,” Bora advised as he walked by.