Other stuff I've written can be read at http://mattbuck.sixwinter.com/?fiction-av
Usual disclaiming sort of stuff, I don't know McFly, I don't know their sexualities, this story is not in any way based on real life events. Oh, and it contains gay sex, so please make sure you're 18.
Six Feet From Heaven -- Part 1 A McFly story by tsunami@london.com
Appearing in another teen mag -- it got old quickly. There were only a certain number of questions you could be asked, and Danny had been asked them all. Still, he'd learned to deal with it -- the game was to come up with the biggest load of bullshit and pass it off as the truth. Not as if the readers could see how badly he lied -- they just saw what he said, and took it as gospel. The ones who might be sceptical -- the ones he wanted to meet -- well, they were all at the back of the crowds, only the brainless idiots got to the front. The preteen girls who thought they were in love with him, the young teens who thought he wanted to see their tits, and the very occasional older girl who hadn't really grown up yet. Dolts. All of them. They'd commit mass suicide if he asked them to, but probably couldn't add two and two. It sickened him. Why couldn't they put that devotion into actually DOING something with their lives -- make something of themselves. But no. They were too busy hoping they'd be able to touch him, speak to him, heck, even just see him. It was a waste, and it pissed him off. Sure, he was famous, but did that make it right for people to interrupt him eating in restaurants? He'd almost taken to never leaving the house it had got so bad. That was why he'd loved the US so much -- not because it was particularly nice, but because he could walk the streets as just another person again. Go somewhere popular without a horde of screaming fans dogging his every step. Go into a newsagents and buy porn with nothing but the tutting of the old lady behind the counter to worry about. Though admittedly he had had to search about five before he found what he was looking for. Bloody vanilla conservatives.
But, back to today, and the questioning. He was sitting on a sofa with the rest of the band, answering questions about their sex lives asked by some dumb blonde who probably got her position more by giving blowjobs than any talent for journalism. Same old routine. Lie about how many girls he'd slept with, call Harry a stud, laugh, move on.
"Would you ever go out with a fan?"
Ah that one again. Favourite of the unimaginative, the only sex question he'd ever answer truthfully. Well -- partially anyway.
"Sure, why not?"
He didn't bother qualifying his statement -- they'd be cut even if he did say it. The music industry lived on their stars being single and convincing the masses they had a chance. They didn't. The masses were stupid and deluded if they thought he'd go out with them. That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted... well... someone who had at least some spark of intelligence would be nice.
His attention wandered from the interviewer -- she was making eyes for Dougie anyway, running her tongue over shiny pink lipstick, so he was safe for now -- and onto the people setting up the photoshoot in the background. It looked like they were putting together a large, white, chipboard box. Strange. There wasn't any backdrop, just the box. Well -- promised to be interesting at least.
The interview wrapped up fairly quickly, and the boys wandered over to see what was going on for the photoshoot.
"Boys -- shoes OFF for the shoot!" The photographer shouted. Danny groaned. He hated shoes off shoots. Well, he loved them... hated them... he never knew which. Loved watching, hated the effect it had, probably. Loved it afterwards though.
It was fun, he thought, being a bisexual living in a house with three other incredibly hot boys who were at least interested in guys, if not fully into. Most nights, there were only two beds being slept in. Well... slept didn't really describe it too well. Suffice to say every bed had some sort of lube within easy reach.
He sat on the floor and pulled off his shoes, stuffing the socks inside them, watching the others do the same. Time seeming to slow down as the socks came off, exposing those gorgeous feet that he loved...
He shook himself. Not yet. They'd let him satisfy his cravings later. His cock was starting to twitch -- it was a good thing he'd worn jeans today, otherwise the cameraman would get more than he wanted. The box was on its side now, open towards the camera -- the photographer called them forward and explained that they'd do solo shots inside the box on its side, then stand it upright, and take photos of the whole band in it from above. Tom, meanwhile, had draped himself between Danny and Harry, and was running his toes up the back of Danny's heel. Danny shivered in pleasure, his eyes half lidded as Tom teased him. He was definitely hard now, and kept stealing glances at Dougie's feet, the bassist shuffling a bit.
"So who's first?" The photographer concluded. Harry volunteered, so Danny pulled Dougie off to the side. The bassist let out a yelp, but quickly followed Danny to an empty office down the hallway.
"Babe," Danny said, pressing Dougie against the door. "You know I love feet. I'm so horny... help me, babe?"
Dougie smiled, "You want these, do you?" He asked, rubbing his foot against Danny, who moaned lustfully. "What will you do for me later to get what you want?"
"Anything Doug, anything. Please..."
Dougie smiled wickedly - "Lie down, and you'll get what you want."
Danny lay down on the hard floor, Dougie sitting on the tops of his thighs. He stripped off his shirt as Dougie fumbled with his flies, and dragged his feet up his chest. He watched them come closer as Dougie finally pulled his cock out, then the feet were covering his face and he was in heaven. He took a long sniff, loving the odour of Dougie's sweat, and dragged his tongue up the underside. His cock was now being ribbed, and he knew it wouldn't take long to cum. He held his friend's feet together, and put both big toes into his mouth, sucking happily as the pace increased. Dougie's hand tightly gripping his cock, the sounds of flesh on flesh and the feet in his face conspired to bring him to a crashing orgasm, cum spurting over his chest, some even landing on his friend's feet. He relaxed, satisfied -- for now -- but knowing he'd get more later. He dragged fingers over his chest, scooping up the cum and putting it on Dougie's feet, then licking it off happily.
"Thanks." He murmured, as he sucked the last of the cum from Dougie's toes.
The bassist stood up, and Danny noticed a few spots of cum on his trouser leg.
"Remember, Danny -- you owe me." He walked out quickly, leaving Danny to put his clothes back on in peace. Danny couldn't help but wonder what Dougie wanted from him.