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It had been a bit of a struggle to get backstage this time around. Normally, you were accustomed to coming to Piers’ concerts along with him, needing only to cling to his arm to get led through the hectic environment. This time, however, Piers had been swamped with about a billion errands right before the concert, so the plan became to meet him there before he went on. This had been easier said than done. Despite having a legitimate backstage pass, you had been getting doubtful eyes on you all night, and spent far longer than you’d intended to caught in the whirlwind of trying to find the right set of concert hall employees to allow you through backstage and tell you where exactly to find your boyfriend.
Finally, you found yourself in the white artificial lights of the dressing rooms. On your way to Piers’, you made a point to pause and fix up your hair and clothes in a mirror. You had taken advantage of the extra time to yourself before the concert to doll yourself up a little bit, figuring that this night would be a great excuse to finally toss on some stylish leather clothes that had been sitting in your closet waiting for a chance for you to work up the confidence to don them. As you checked yourself out, you admitted to yourself that you did look quite sexy. The outfit you’d picked out hugged the shape of your body well, and the cool leather number was something that fit right into the punk style that is often on display at Piers’ shows.
When the dull, distant roar of the idling crowd that served as the white noise to the backstage happenings was intercut with the distinctive metallic clunking of your boyfriend’s iconic boots, you snapped out of your thoughts and spun excitedly to face him. He stalked down the hall, a stick of eyeliner hanging from his mouth as he listened to the words of a band member who walked along him. You met his eyes, loaded with stage makeup, and watched as they widened. A tiny, plastic clatter sounded as the eyeliner fell soundly out of his slack mouth.
“So, I look good? Good,” you said, giving a little spin to show yourself off. “I was a little worried, you know. It’s out of my comfort zone.”
Piers stood stock still. His bandmate stooped to pick up the dropped makeup and stuck it into Piers’ pocket, chuckling a bit. When a beat passed with Piers still in stunned silence, his buddy sighed and looked your way with an apologetic face. “He’s noibatshit. Don’t worry, you look great.” He elbowed Piers in the side in an attempt to wake him up before shrugging and heading off, back to business.
Piers seemed to slowly start back up, sucking a long sigh of breath in and straightening his back for a moment before settling back into his normal posture. “Good god,” he said, placing a hand on his chest. “I wasn’t ready to see that.” With a weak laugh, he scooped up your hand and twirled past you, openly admiring. “Sure you don’t want to come out and perform with us?” he offered, pulling himself away to fix a part of his makeup. “You would fit right into the band.”
You laughed and shook your head. “Don’t think today is the day for that,” you said. A little wisp of pride fluttered in your chest as you noticed that Piers glanced away from his reflection to watch you every time you moved. It was hard to tell through his foundation, but you were fairly sure that he was blushing hard. “I just wanted to wear an all new outfit today.”
Piers’ eyebrows quirked as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. “So all of it is new, then?” His voice, low and rumbling, was dripping with suggestion.
A blush crept up your neck. “Well…” you hummed bashfully.
A sound resembling a growl rose out of Piers. With a flourish, he capped his eyeliner, stuffed it into his pocket, and pulled you towards him, wedging you between him and the wall. He loomed over you with a piercing look in his eyes, his hands placed against the mirror on either side of you, forming a cage around you with his arms. The air around you crackled with tension as you shrunk to fit into the tiny space that Piers was allowing you to take up.
“You are so bold ,” Piers languished. “Wearin’ somethin’ like this… you tryin’ to mess with me in front of all my fans?” The smirk that crept across his face was uncharacteristically ravenous. “I dunno if I can play properly while I’m worked up like this.”
You found yourself shivering, despite the overwhelming heat surrounding you. What had taken over Piers? “Sh-should I be apologizing?”
Piers scoffed. “Darlin’, sayin’ sorry ain’t gonna cut it.” He leaned in close, bringing a hand down to grip you on the wrist. “You oughta be more careful. This kinda stuff can have grave consequences .” His breath dripped hotly across your neck.
You were about ready to pass out from your shock at Piers’ behavior when a bell sounded in the overhead speakers. A call for performers to be ready to go onstage. Piers clicked his tongue. Before pulling back, he planted a kiss on your neck that sent a wave of electricity through your whole nervous system. Voices from down the hall called for him, and he yelled back: “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be there in a sec!” Sighing, he touched his forehead to yours and locked eyes with you. “This,” he said, flicking his eyes up and down your form. “Ain’t done yet.”
With that, Piers pushed off the wall and made his way to his calling bandmates with a brisk swagger. Left alone and stirred up, you slid down the wall and stared at the ceiling as you sorted through your feelings. You had certainly been hoping to surprise Piers a bit with your bold look tonight, but you didn’t think that you were going to completely change his personality like that. He was usually so calm, and the intensity from that scene was something you had only ever seen in glimpses while he performed. A buzzing excitement rose in your chest as you gathered yourself enough to head out and mingle with the crowd.
You scooched your way into the VIP section, flashing your backstage pass and, for once, getting a positive response from the staff. The section, roped off and right up against the stage, was filled with spiked punks and screaming fangirls. You weren’t usually one to take part in the chaos that was the mosh pit, but you were more than happy to see the warring sides in this area go at each other. A certain sort of camaraderie always surged through the rowdy crowds at these concerts, full of grinning faces, colored hair, and pure, unadulterated enthusiasm. As the concert started up and churned through some songs, loud and vigorous, you saw fans alternate between butting heads and taking selfies. You always ended up with a feeling of pride that you were able to end up in a relationship with someone who causes such a community to form.
The concert carried on, and you made a point of keeping an eye on Piers through all of it. You were used to falling for him all over again just about every time you saw him putting on a show, as his energy and grace was deeply captivating. Tonight, that energy was pumped up to another level. The tempo was up, and Piers’ voice rang with a volume even higher than you were used to. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he bellowed and strutted and swirled across the stage.
One thing that you were missing during this performance, however, was eye contact. Normally, Piers had a sort of rhythm to his gaze as he sang. He would look out over the crowd, then back to his bandmates, then he would find you in the masses, always close to the front, and linger on you for a few beats before continuing on. This time, his eyes never found their way to the front of the crowd. Sure, the songs were still plenty enjoyable without the looks, what with the amplified levels of moxie in his mood, but you couldn’t ignore the feeling in the back of your head that something was actually wrong tonight. He wasn’t actually mad at you, was he? You shook your head. Maybe he was just having trouble finding you this time.
The song at hand came to a close, and, after the roaring applause of the crowd finished, a silence set in on stage as each member of the band let out a collective sigh, releasing their tension. The bassist and drummer passed a water bottle back and forth as Piers squared himself up at center stage. He set the previously loose microphone into the stand, and smiled at the crowd.
“You doin’ well tonight?” he said, clearly catching his breath. A clamor came from the crowd that shook you to your core. “Fuck yeah! I feel like I’m goin’ through the songs real fast tonight, hah.” Piers chuckled and leaned down to take a swig from the water bottle at his feet. “Hope that’s cool with you guys. It’s just, I’m a little excited to get done.” Some jeers came from the most vocal sections of the crowd. “Hey, no offense meant! It’s not you guys. I love you guys.” The crowd bellowed back with the obligatory cheer that follows any compliment from the lead. “Y’see, I’ve got a little treat waiting for me after the show. Got a sweetheart who decided to tease the hell out of me tonight, wearin’ the hottest outfit on the planet. You know who you are.” For the first time of the night, Piers looked right at you. Your heart was at risk of bursting on the spot. Even though you knew that no one around really knew that he was talking about you, you couldn’t shake the flush of heat that took over your whole body.
“So,” Piers called out, sauntering across the stage while letting the microphone stand drag behind him. “This next one’s for the little cocktease in the crowd tonight.” His eyes fell on you again as the crowd responded with cheers and laughter.
The band rallied with an enormous sounding song, all drums and bass and heavy, thrumming sounds. Piers’ vocals cut through with a sexy growl of a melody, and boy did he make a show out of this one. Piers was all winks and squats and pelvic thrusts, practically grinding on the microphone stand as the lyrics of the song described all the dirty fantasies that one could ever think of. The crowd was discord around you, absolutely eating up the performance, and you felt like you were going to die on the spot. Was this Piers’ way of getting revenge? His eyes landed on you whenever he had the chance to look your way, and you wanted to hide with all your might, but you couldn’t tear your attention off of him. The whole experience was hellish, but so delightful in a selfish, prideful kind of way.
🤘🤘🤘
You found yourself carrying yourself higher than normal as you crossed the halls of backstage. You tried not to grin like an idiot the whole way there, but the effort failed anytime you made eye contact with someone. You crossed by a couple of band members, who gave you knowing looks in return for your excited smile. When you arrived upon Piers’ dressing room, you didn’t bother knocking and let yourself right in.
He looked up with a smirk, hunched over the mirror with a makeup wipe in hand. “Good, you’re here.” His hair clung to his face where it was loose, wicked with sweat. When he saw you, he glanced back at the mirror and gave his face one last pass with the wipe before straightening and starting to approach, slowly, trepidatiously. “C’mon, doll, close the door.”
You hesitated. “Wait, really?” Images of the heaps of band and crew members mingling just down the hall crossed your mind. The look you saw in Piers’ eyes confirmed your fears. “Right here? But, there are still people here--”
Piers’ pace picked up until he was upon you, hand pushing past your shoulder to shut the door behind you. He towered over you, eyes heavy and leftover eyeliner smudged. “I don’t give a damn,” he declared, his face inches from yours. “I’m not gonna hold back any longer.”
The air was knocked out of your lungs as Piers yanked you into a hard kiss. His tongue found its way right into your mouth, and his hands had no reservations about feeling you through your clothes. He was rough and intense, palms groping you in just about every sensitive place you had. Breathless, you pulled away a bit with the intent to allow him full access, but he pulled you back hastily.
“Not yet,” he breathed. “I need to fully ravish you in this outfit first.” Before you could respond, he grabbed your jaw and went right back to kissing you. Pressed firmly against the door, you struggled to find enough room to breathe between it and Piers’ roaming hands. Heat made you sweat, and sweat made your clothes cling tighter to your body, adding to the overall constriction that you felt. Piers only became more intense as things got more sweltering.
Eventually, Piers broke away from your mouth, a thin trail of saliva bridging the gap for a moment before breaking as he dipped his head down to devour your neck and collarbone. You took the opportunity to catch your breath, but the sensation of Piers sucking on your skin made your heavy breaths turn into moans. The thought crossed your mind of how anyone outside the room would easily be able to hear you, but you couldn’t stop the noises from coming. The embarrassment you felt just made the heat grow even more intense.
After what felt like an eternity of groping and dry humping, you felt like you were going to go crazy. “Piers,” you cried out with as little desperation as you could manage. “Piers, when can I take off my clothes? I’m getting so hot. ”
Piers gave your rear a squeeze. “Hell yeah, you are.”
You squirmed against his hands, groaning. “ Piers!”
Finally, Piers moved away enough for you to fill your lungs all the way. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “But first.” He put a hand to yours to stop you from shirking your clothes right away. You watched as he found a chair to flop into, shimmied his pants down a fraction, and pulled out his cock. “Okay,” he said, leaning back and looking at you with piercing eyes. “Go on, now. Strip. ”
You felt your brain short circuit for a second as he stared at you, stroking himself slowly. You weren’t prepared to be under such pressure immediately after getting out from under his hands. With a gulp, you tried to push past your awkwardness enough to look decent as you started to undress. When you started, Piers made a noise that made you freeze for a second. You could see him pick up the pace on himself, biting his lip as he surveyed your form. Seeing him enjoying himself so thoroughly made you completely forget your reservations. You started to strip again, a newfound confidence making your actions smoother and more seductive. You weren’t sure how you knew how to undo a button sexily, but you found a way to do it so well that Piers had to clap a hand over his mouth. Eventually, you were in nothing but a set of dark, lacy underwear, damp with sweat and hiding very little.
“You were right,” Piers growled. “ All new.” You somehow blushed even more.
You started to hook your fingers into that new underwear, shimmying slowly out of it, when Piers cried out. You watched as he threw his head back and finished, cum spewing over his still-clothed torso. He looked up at you through half-lidded eyes as he shuddered, almost hard enough to fall out of his chair. He looked a complete wreck, sweaty and breathing raggedly, and it was the sexiest you’d ever seen him. Weakly, he motioned you over. You stepped obediently up to him, too thrilled to feel exposed in your nudity. He grabbed your hand, kissed it sweetly, then pulled you down to kiss your lips. You could feel heat radiating off of his body as he slowly caressed your bare form. When he pulled back, his eyes were big and his expression loving. “Alright,” he sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “Now, what should I do for you? ”