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Pas de Deux

Joe Elliott/Rick "Sav" Savage (Def Leppard)

Written for Chrissy for the 2009 xmas_rocks exchange

This story is a work of fiction and therefore completely untrue. No harm or libel is meant or implied about any of the individuals named within this work and it was written without their involvement or permission. No profit is being made.


(Paraphrased from The Ballet.com: Pas de Deux is French for "Step of Two" and is what partnering is called in ballet. By dancing with a partner one dancer can jump higher, take positions he would never be able to on his own, and "float" about the stage as he is carried by his partner.)

*

He slides his arms around the trim waist and pulls the naked body back against his. It fits. It fits so well that he wonders how he ever thought it wouldn't. Lips curving in a small smile, he bends his head to bury his face in the cloud of blond curls and breathes in the scent of freshness. A soft sound of appreciation purrs past his still-smiling lips then he bends his head a little more until his lips touch skin, the soft skin at the curve where neck meets shoulder.

He tastes.

"I thought you'd never get here." There's a low, deep thrum under the softly-spoken words and he feels it tease its way down into his balls with pleasant warmth.

"Things to take care of." He murmurs against the soft skin, continuing his easy tasting along the line of the shoulder.

"There are always things to take care of with you." A faint chuckle of fond resignation accompanies the running of warm hands along his forearms as they encircle the slender torso. "Good thing I'm a patient man, mate."

"You've had years of practice." He nuzzles back into the curve of Sav's neck.

He loves coming to Sav and finding him like this, naked and warm and waiting. He remembers the first time it happened, back in the house in Dublin, the house they all shared during that marathon and life-changing trio of years as they made Hysteria. He had been so hesitant inside, wondering if accepting the invitation given by his friend was the biggest mistake he'd ever made. By the time the sun had come up, he knew it hadn't been.

And now, five years later, he still knew it.

"Do you want to take a shower?" Sav's head leans back against his shoulder, turning slightly so he can look up at him with lazy, blue eyes.

"Not yet." Joe smiles.

His hands begin to move over Sav's body and he's rewarded with a soft sigh of pleasure as Sav relaxes against him, his eyes closing to mere slits. He knows just how to stroke his lover's skin, slowly easing him from anticipation upwards into desire and need. One hand glides over the taut, slightly quivering belly with its thin trail of hair leading downwards, while the other hand lightly skims over Sav's chest with its own faint smattering of downy hair. He can feel Sav's breathing begin to speed up, hitching just a little as he teases the tightening nipples with his fingertips.

"Been thinking about you for hours." He murmurs, his mouth close to Sav's ear. "Wanting you." He cocks his hips forward, rubbing his denim-covered erection against Sav's bare arse, smiling at the low moan the motion elicits. He pinches one taut nipple and is rewarded with another throaty gasp as Sav's whole body moves against his.

"Must... must have made getting through... oh, fuck... yes...," Sav's arm reaches up to curl around Joe's neck, his lean frame stretching openly beneath Joe's roaming hands.

"Yeah, it made talking business very difficult." His fingers slide downward into the wiry curls below Sav's belly and he bites his lip to stifle his own groan of desire.

The rough feel of the hair surrounding his fingers has always excited him; it has since the first time Sav allowed him to slip his questing hand into his jeans. He pulls lightly on the curls, threading his fingers through them over and over again, the intimacy of the action both exciting and soothing him at the same time. His hand curves, gently covering Sav's balls, rolling them, teasing them as he continues his petting and stroking. He could spend hours just playing with Sav like this and indeed has upon many occasions to their mutual enjoyment.

"Oh, that's good, Joe... real good." Sav's voice is a throaty purr, his head rolling languorously against Joe's shoulder.

He's so beautiful like this, Joe marvels, continuing to hold Sav's naked body against his, letting his hands explore and excite. His lips are parted and full, his eyes closed, his face slack with pleasure; it's a totally sensual picture that Joe carries with him in his memory, able to harden him any time he chooses to think on it. And he does think on it often.

"Joe...." There's a thread of urgency underlying Sav's breathy moans. Both arms are up around Joe's neck now and his body is writhing sinuously against Joe's fully-clad form. He's so open and wanton that Joe catches his breath and firmly tells himself not to rip open his jeans and thrust his aching cock into Sav. That was not what he wanted right now.

"Need to come, Sav?" His teeth tug gently at Sav's earlobe. "I think you need to come." He curls his fingers around Sav's cock and squeezes just enough to get Sav to groan and melt against him.

"Yes... yes... I fuckin' need... oh, fuck... Joe...."

"I thought so." Joe smiles as Sav's hips roll, thrusting his cock into the circle of his fingers.

One arm firmly banded around Sav's chest, he begins to slowly pump Sav's cock, appreciating the rigidity and weight of it in his hand. He knows just how to stroke, just how to squeeze, how to tease his thumb over the moistened slit, exactly how to make the naked man in his arms moan and cry out with need as he coaxes him closer and closer towards release. That he's able to do this; able to be the one to make this most beautiful of men surrender to his caresses; to make him call his name with such desperate need as he tenses and shudders in the circle of his arms; it all makes Joe feel more powerful and more humble than he ever thought he could feel without being on a stage in front of thousands of people bringing them his songs.

"Joe! OhmyGodJoe!" The beautiful face tightens, the arms behind his neck spasm and the long, slender body arches against him.

"That's my lad," Joe croons, "my beautiful lad." His own almost-painfully hard erection is forgotten as he continues to stroke Sav through his orgasm, making Sav's blissful surrender as complete as possible.

"You're a marvel, you are." Sav purrs at last, his head lolling back on Joe's shoulder, blue eyes dark and heavy with satisfaction.

"What was it you said earlier?" Joe eases Sav around to face him, bringing one hand to rest along the line of his lover's jaw. "Years of practice?" He bends his head slightly to kiss Sav's warm, pliant lips.

"Love you," he whispers.

*

Sav settles on his knees at the foot of the bed and drops the last of the bath towels to the floor. He and Joe have left a trail of them from the shower and one of them is going to have to call room service for more come the morning. One of the perks of being a hugely successful rock band is that no one will even bat an eye at the request.

But that's for the morning.

Right now, all he's concerned with is the man stretched out on the bed in front of him, skin still rosy from the heat of the shower, eyes half-closed as he gazes at Sav, the hint of a smile curving his lips.

It seems to Sav that he's always had feelings for Joe Elliot beginning with the day the tall, gangly eighteen-year old missed a bus and ended up auditioning for Sav's band. It was the dimple; the single dimple that creased Joe's cheek each time he smiled. Even now, so many years later, Sav still loves that dimple.

"You planning on joining me up here any time soon?" Joe asks, patting the mattress next to him and Sav grins a little.

"Just admiring the view." He pushes still-damp curls back over his shoulders but doesn't move from his spot. "I like looking at you."

"Good thing we're alone here," Joe shifts ever so slightly against the mattress. "I'd hate to see you arrested for voyeurism." One eyebrow arches and Sav senses his pulse beginning to speed up in response. Joe's looks have always had that kind of effect on him.

"I could get arrested for a lot more than just voyeurizing." Sav inches over towards Joe's feet and parts them with a firm yet gentle touch.

Joe's smile widens and Sav stifles a chuckle. Joe thinks he knows exactly how this will play out; he can tell by the satisfied glint in his green eyes; but Sav has other ideas. It does Joe good to be shaken up from time to time and tonight is going to be one such time.

Sav cups a hand around Joe's heel and raises the foot to rest on his thigh then begins to slowly run his thumb along the line of its arch. He increases the pressure slightly until Joe's toes begin to curl and flex with enjoyment. The man was a sucker for a good foot massage, always had been. Sav figures it's a perfect place to start.

He strokes and manipulates with hands and fingers made strong by years of guitar playing; moving from one foot to the other and back again, past the moment that Joe's breathing turns from low and regular and becomes soft sighs of pleasure.

"Oh, man, nobody does this as good as you do." Joe's voice is relaxed and when Sav looks up, he sees Joe's eyes are closed, his head resting easily on the pile of pillows with his damp hair spread tousled against the pillowcase.

God, he's so gorgeous like this.

Sav feels a tightening in his groin--a most pleasurable feeling--and a low purr almost escapes him. He tells himself to keep his mind on the bigger plan, then bends to run the tip of his tongue along the arch of Joe's foot.

"Sav." His name is but a breath of a moan from Joe's lips.

Oh yes, a very good beginning indeed.

There are those that would be surprised to know that Rick Savage possesses a single-mindedness of purpose and that when he chooses, he is able to put it to good use. This is one of those times.

His hands are warm as they smooth their way up Joe's long legs, pushing them further apart with each stroke. He can feel the lean muscles tightening and relaxing under his fingertips, feel the slight quiver of Joe's skin as he bends to brush his lips against it. There's that one special spot, right at the top of Joe's inner thigh; it makes Joe moan every time he even touches his lips to it... so he does it often because the sound of Joe's moans are sweeter to his ears than even the applause of twenty thousand screaming fans.

He moves higher; nuzzling into the musky heat between Joe's legs; kissing and nibbling. The mingled scent of soap and Joe fill his senses and he allows himself to indulge his own pleasure for a few moments; stretching out along the mattress between Joe's legs and sliding his arms beneath his thighs, coaxing them further apart as he lets his mouth roam at will.

"Bloody hell, Sav." Joe groans out, one hand tangling in Sav's hair, the other twisting in the sheets as his hips rock upwards. The sound of a loud, ragged intake of breath as Sav slides his mouth up the rigidness of Joe's cock tells Sav that Joe is reaching that point he so seldom reaches; the point where he loses all will to control and just gives over to the pleasure of the moment.

Sav smiles. "Enjoy it, luv." His mouth slides over Joe and he feels Joe shudder past the wish to control.

He takes his time making love to Joe's cock despite Joe's barely intelligible pleas for release. His hands are as busy as his mouth, roaming over Joe's sweat-covered body, teasing and caressing, slowly urging Joe ever deeper towards a state of complete surrender.

It's definitely not all one-sided; the fact that he's making Joe writhe against the mattress while making all those needy, guttural sounds is making his own blood run hot; his own desire high.

At last, when Joe's body is straining and trembling beneath him; when Joe's voice is hoarse, his moans near to desperate sobs; when Joe has plunged past his last need to control, to direct, to lead; Sav rises up over him, reaching for the tube on the nightstand. Joe's eyes are dazed, glazed with a near overload of sensation as they follow Sav's moves, in their depths an unspoken question.

"Trust me." Sav leans over, his face close to Joe's now, his tone low and reassuring. "Let me take you where you take me," he whispers as his fingertips rest lightly against Joe's pucker.

Joe swallows and nods.

Sav licks his way past Joe's lips, coaxing them to part for his gently questing tongue; swallowing Joe's soft cry as he slides a slick finger into him. He continues to kiss Joe, stroking and exploring the tender insides of Joe's mouth with his tongue, holding his finger still until he feels the muscles relax; then breaking the kiss slowly, he raises his head and looks into Joe's eyes once again.

"Trust me." He repeats and his finger begins to move. Joe's arms rise up and curl around Sav's neck and at that moment, Sav knows that Joe is his, totally and completely.

Still, he takes his time; as much for himself as for Joe. Only one other time in the history of their relationship has Joe given him this much and that night they had both been so drunk that neither of them could remember it clearly. Sav is determined that they both would remember every bit of this night.

The moment that he raises Joe's hips and slides into him, groaning with pleasure at the tightness around his cock, he hears Joe cry out his name. He pauses, thinking that he's hurt Joe, but the low moan of needy urgency that follows the harsh cry reassures him as does the flexing grip of Joe's fingers on his arms.

Sav's hips begin to move.

Time dissolves into sensations; skin slick with sweat sliding against skin, fingers digging and clawing with need, the mingled scent of their two bodies, the taste of Joe, the sound, the feel of him.

And then Joe is arching beneath him, calling out for him, his body shaking, buffeted by wave after wave of release. Sav holds on, biting his lip until he tastes blood, the involuntary contractions of Joe's muscles around his cock pushing him relentlessly towards his own orgasm.

"Oh, bloody hell, Joe!" He can't hold it back any longer. His fingers dig into Joe's shoulders hard enough to leave bruises as he slams into Joe, again and again until his body melts into a warm, tingling mass of bliss over his lover's spent and breathless form.

"Sav?" A long while later, he feels a light tapping on his shoulder and stirs, lifting his head. His hair is hanging down in front of his eyes, but he can't seem to summon up the strength to raise a hand and push it aside.

"Yeah?" Is that his voice sounding so faint and rough? He clears his throat and tries again. "Y-yeah?"

A large hand smoothes the tangle from in front of his eyes and strokes down his cheek. He manages a crooked smile and blinks to clear his gaze.

"Thank you." There's an infinite tenderness in the low voice as it rumbles quietly in Joe's chest.

Sav smiles.

"I love you," he whispers.

~FIN~


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