Toxic Valentine. (Fransykes)

Josh and Oliver had been friends for many years, ever since Josh was still in his “Emo kid,” phase, and had hair like curtains that would never really sit right around his face, and the ruffled hazelnut hair would always flop in his face. Now he simply looked like he belonged in a pop band with his rough stubble and prep kid haircut. Those were the days. Now they spoke on rare occasions and kept that one night that most certainly did not happen between them and no-one else.

That night when Oli had accidentally confessed that he had possible feelings for the other British boy; with his ebony hair hanging in enticing, wide hazel eyes dipped in honey and burning with want. It was the second that their lips touched and hands wandered that they agreed that this would never be spoken of to anyone else. This decision wasn’t limited to the fact they didn’t want to tell people, because their hearts and breathing synced was enough of a symbol that they belonged together. It was reliant on them being two men, two men who were both pressured into an image of stern and brutal, of which neither of them were; it was because their careers would’veen ruined.

Only the Sheffield born boy knew, however, of Josh’s want for something most men couldn’t give him, an intense need for being controlled and ordered, to have someone to look up at whilst he was on his knees and begging. He liked to be pushed and pulled, held down and choked and cuffed. If it weren’t so painfully obvious what is trying to be said; Josh was a submissive, and in his eyes there was only one man who could serve his needs.

That night sort of determined the rest of their lives, or the skeletons they slept with in the closets did it for them. With Oli in the know now of what it was the "love of his life" did with other men, and now that the boy from Weybridge knew that his “soulmate” could sustain those needs without even hesitating, no worries or regrets…it was harder, so much harder to stay away from each other.

“I love you,” he said.

“I’m complicated,” The other replied, “I’m messed up Oli,” But the onyx haired man hadn’t cared, he’d pushed forward, kissed him and pressed him down against the bed, hands pinning the other’s hands above his head, nails scratching down forearms and across the muscle space of backs. One look from those hazel eyes had Josh consenting, his ruffled curtain of hair falling into out of his eyes as his head hit the pillow.

“Can I…?”

“Yes sir,” It had slipped out, mostly by mistake but the cerulean eyed boy couldn’t pretend he wasn’t relieved. Surprise overtook Oliver, who was hovering over the younger’s body at this point, staring down with those wide doe-eyes. Instead of pressing it, he leaned down to kiss Josh again, except it was fierce and harsh. He shouldn’t, he realised he should’ve stepped back and discussed it, but he just couldn’t…he wanted Josh to know he wasn’t messed up. “Do you know what you’re doing…?” Trust, unspoken, but there between best friends.

“Sort of, File under: crazy shit I did in Chicago,” He muttered, “Take off your shirt,” And it went on from there, starting with a firm command in his voice, to a click of handcuffs and bruises on the other’s thighs.

Now, it was 2015, and since that night the others had barely found it in themselves to look in each other’s eyes. Until now, now they’re forced to, because their band members don’t know and they’re fed up of watching the two dance around each other (as if it were that easy to push away the thought of the other’s naked body writhing in arousal) and expect them to talk. For the fans, for the band…not because they’ve longed for each other every night since that one…no, not at all.

Notes

Ok, so I read 50 Shades of Grey. I know for a certain that that is an abusive relationship, not a D/S one. However, I'm curious, so here I present: That one fic where I couldn't think of my own characters but I feel like exploring BDSM culture.

Title comes from the song title Toxic Valentine by All Time Low.

If I ever get something wrong then please tell me, I prefer to be enlightened. I won't ever be offended.