Who: Tony DiMarco and Alexi Winters, then Tony DiMarco and Pickles When: Couple days ago Where: London Why: Drinks and food and sex, why else?
Tony's getting used to his new body, and Pickles is loving every minute of it. Warnings for implied sex, sex, brainsex, sex with musicians, sex with stoners, demonic sex, and sex some more.
The nightclub was dimly lit, but amply enough where faces could be recognized and music was playing - but not so loudly that people had to shout over it. The music itself was old Rock & Roll - To the tune of Ozzy and AC/DC and all the gods of the scene. In the VIP section on the second floor was a lithe young man, barely in his twenties it seemed, poured into a chair as if he were meant to be there. A beautiful young prince, looking over his kingdom. In one hand was a clove cigarette, and in the other, a snifter of brandy. His clothes were posh to say the least, the pants alone could have fetched a thousand dollars, and don't even start on the shoes. It was an all black ensemble, as stark comparison to the milk white skin and the almost-ridiculously long strawberry blonde hair. He was waiting patiently as ever.
Tony looked about. Right-this was the place. The now-guitarist moved inside the club. He was assaulted by the Oz man, he shook his head. Give him Dio any day. And so, he walked to the bar and asked the keep to direct him to the stairs for the second floor: "There's over-near the back. Wind up y'know?" "Yeah. Thanks." He was a sight to behold himself: No shirt. Save, say, a jacket? Leather from head to toe, his favourite.
Tony walked up the flight of steps, and looked over the railing for a moment. "Whoa." Nice view...
The curls gave him away, frankly. Alexi slipped out of his chair in a fashion more suiting a cat than a man, and stretched, setting his snifter aside and taking a drag of the clove, "Mm, isn't it lovely? And I'm sure they're all excited you're here! The famous Tony DiMarco, the handsome guitar player - and bass player, right? Of the most illustrious band in stadium rock." He turned to the musician and held out a long-fingered hand. "Pleased to meet you in person. Come, sit down, have a drink."
Tony looked over to the voice in his ear, brows raised. "..Oh you." And he walked over and plopped down on his rear, feet kicked up on the small table set up. The snifter fell off the table and spilt, the glass cracking. "Whoopsie." And Tony crossed his arms, and ankles. "So, you don't look over 1000 years old assfucker."
Alexi chuckled softly and sat down, not minding the spilt drink. In fact, he just waved to the bartender and ordered another, and one for his companion, "No, but I can tell you everything you remember. I'm psychic, you know. And since you've been planted firmly here, I'll pick your mind, and not the one you replaced. Let's see... Mama's boy, though that's only natural for a bassist, went to prison, OO, here's a tasty morsel, you really walked the streets and rocked it out? Oh, honey, you shouldn't have. Little stint in prison, did some naughty things there, very very naughty. Mm, and then we get to Pickles. I was right, you are with him. Tch, looks like I'll have to call it a night, then. Unless, of course, you're thoroughly unconvinced, then I may have to settle on my other talents as well."
Tony's eyes were wide: "I was fuckin'..!!" He looked around in some shame. "I was raped!! I didn't want that fuckin' prison shit! Don't you fuckin' dare tell!! Okay!?' He growled, jaw tight, eyes filled with fire. "If you fuckin' tell anyone anything about when I was in prison-I will fuckin' kill you!!" He huffed, nostrils flared in his rage.
"And I won't, either. We've all got reasons for doing what we do, and yours was wholly justified." Alexia's voice was like a song, soothing, mellow, only the slightest bit concerned. He nodded once. "And I understand now, how hard it is for you. And to tell you honest, luv, it's as good as fiction here. You never were in prison here." He took the drinks and handed one off to the musician. "And I'll never speak a word of it, a man keeps his promise." It was almost tempting to seal it in blood, and if he had to, he would.
"....Still. That was me. In my body. And even if this body doesn't remember.. my mind makes me remember.. and.. oh god. It hurt so much." He sighed, and took a drink. "The guards.. would.. stand and watch." His eyes had a far-away look. "..and gave the guys.. their nightsticks.. to.. to.. put.. inside me. Because I was a homo anyway. Because I.. Because I deserved it.. they said. Again.. and again-and again.. over and over. I bled so much. Thought I lose my mind." He sniffed sharply, and rubbed his eyes. Like watching a movie he didn't want to see anymore.
Alexi quietly sipped his drink and, in a low, almost baritone, voice, he asked, eyes closed, "I can take that away. I can make it disappear. I can replace it, I can change it, I can make it so that you'll never have to feel it again. I'll marry you to the idea that your time in prison was swift and simple, with no pain, no loss. You don't even need to remember that you went, if you don't want. But it's that pain that drives you. It'll break you or make you, you just have to decide which it'll do first. I'll give you a choice. Momentary pleasure, or lifelong forgetting. I'll do it, Tony. I'll do it for a musician, because that's what I do."
"..Whats the point of even living.. if someone can take those memories away. If.. I hadn't been in jail.. when I was released.. I never would have.. I wouldn't have met Pickles." He sighed. "..It was raining. I was walking-limping toward the only home I knew at the time.. my friend's house. Sam's house. I saw something shivering-I thought it was a cat.. and.. I didn't want to leave it. So.. I pull back a tattered blanket.. and there he is." Tony took a big gulp.
"..One painful memory.. for the memories in my head I have of Pickles and my friends.. I have to stay strong and keep holding onto them. They're all I have in this body."
"Then I won't take it from you, because it's a beautiful memory to you, if painful. Now, I'll do one thing to help this momentary rememberance, because I was the one to bring it up?" He sat up and looked at Tony, sizing him up, before nodding and closing his eyes once more, mentally weaving away the sorrow, the sadness that was temporary, the anger and rage that had come of it, and replaced it with hope. Inspiration. And, since it was his job, and everything (mental sigh), a heapin' helpin' of good ol' fashioned sexual pleasure. He sat in his chair, quiet as could be, for just another moment. After that, he spoke. "Jagger had a helluva lot of fun with that, I was his fucking drug of choice when I knew him."
Tony's eyes opened wide. ".....Y-Yeah." Whoa-his testosterone was dancing~ Tony smiled, and took another drink. "Yeah.. thats a cool trick. There. Demon-boy." He finished off his drink and sat back in his chair. "..If you are old as old as you.. say you are.. aren't you tired of humans beatin' around the bush when it comes to things? Like.. perfection. Since.. I guess you think you're perfect. I guess."
"I am by no means perfect. I may look it, but no." He smiled wryly, "I was once. But that changed suddenly and without hesitation on the part of the one who cast me down, so I said fuck him and went about my way. Humans are great though. Really. Very fun, as a matter of fact, I love that you can have inspiration, that you have the power to create! I can't create, I can only change what's already there and give inspiration to those that need it. That's my job. Okay, other than the runway model thing, that's more cover for what I really do." He chuckled, "I'm not exactly covert about it either, but there's demon hunters, you know? And even if I was a very good boy here? I've been a very, very bad boy in other realities, and I don't want to have to pay up my bill just yet." He lit another cigarette. "So, mister grouchy-pants, you enjoying yourself?"
Tony raised a brow. "...Uhh.. yeah. I guess. I been here roughly ten minutes. And I'm not ready to bolt. So.. I guess I'm cool." He shrugged. "Yeah. I guess I'm having a good time. What-you think you're bad company or something? If you're so old.. you could go on and on about how amazed you are with we humans.. blah blah blah." He shrugged again. "That sorta thing." He tutted and shook his head. "I could, but I'd prefer not to, it's boring. Really, very boring. I'm the most boring person you'll ever meet. I want to know about you, honestly. And the old fashioned way, none of the mind-trick mumbo jumbo. I'm a fan of the old-school. Tell me, how're you finding things in this crazy world so far?"
"...okay. I.. uhh-things are cool. I suppose. Thats how things are. I'm good with.. y'know.. being Slash. I.. it.. well, it's distrubing I'm good at guitar-when I was myself, I was never good at it. I.. hated Guitar. But now.. well.. you get the point." He sighed softly. "..Just.. weird. I guess.. but.. if I'm gonna be stuck as him, I'll have to get used to it."
"Bullshit you do. If you want to play bass, who's to say you're not a bassist, hm? You've got the power of the masses behind you, who'd support you in all you do. I'd be glad to see your work here, in fact. Oh, how delightful it'd be to have a talented bassist around in the rock scene again. And if you want to play guitar, do that as well, the world knows you for your incredible solos, ones which shiver up your spine and give you goosebumps." He bit his lower lip and then smirked, "Sorry, bit of a music lover."
Tony nodded. "..Yeah. Thats uh. Thats cool." He raised a brow and shook his head. "..The other day.. I was.. just waking up, and thought to myself: "Hey Tony, can things get any weirder?" I'd.. been sick for a while. Not my liver.. it's already dead. But.. I was thinking about.. second changes. I was throwing blood up everywhere.. and I.. I couldn't move much. I swore I was dying.. but now. It's like someone hit the reset button.. and.. yeah." Tony ran a hand through hid fluffy locks. "...and I missed Pickles so badly. I would've.. done anything to see him again."
"And now there's this second chance you got with him, and with your liver, and all things are bright and sunny for Tony DiMarco. Good to hear it." He smiled, "Pickles is younger than you, then? As in, timeline-younger? I don't think he knows that, but frankly, if you don't care, neither would he." He tapped his chin in thought. "You're a good man, Tony. Truly a good man. For all the sins? You've still got a good heart. I love that." He took a sip of his drink and sighed. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep the redhead waiting if I were you, I know how he is when he gets kept waiting up for somebody. Don't... don't ask why I know." He got another wry smile. "I'd like it if we could meet again sometime, hm? I've got a flat here in London, east side of town." He offered Tony a business card. "Call me, let your friends know. If you know a particularly lovely rocker who wouldn't mind a trophy husband, point her my way, hm?"
Tony took the card, brows raised. "...yeah. I guess." He shrugged. "Never saw much good in myself. It means alot to hear that. Thanks." He stood up. "..We're going out for Chinese. 'Swhy I was in a rush. But I'm sure you knew that." He looked at the card, and set it on the table. He put his hands in his pockets. "..Prolly knew I was gonna do that too huh. Later man." And Tony turned on heel, and walked down the stairs, and out of total site.
What a weird meeting..
Pickles was practically flipping out by the time Tony arrived back home. "Dude, man, I knew you'd be gone, but seriously..." He paused and scowled, then pouted, "Were you crying?" He asked, "Or are you just stoned? I can never tell, you get puffy eyes when you get stoned, too, not that I can see 'em very well through that shaggy mop on yer head. C'mon, I'm starvin'? Who'd you meet? Was she hot?" Yes, these are all important questions, thank you.
Tony laughed softly, and walked out with Pickles. "..Eh. She was okay. Small tits thought. Pity. Had a pretty face. And.. I.. yeah. I was. Just.. thinkin' back to a memory from.. my body. Y'know..? When we met." He chuckled, and wrapped an arm around Pickles' shoulders. "Just thinking gets me like that. I guess."
There was a smile from the redhead as he put his arm around Tony's waist. "Sappy ol' Tony. Man, I wish I could show emotion like that, I suck at emotion. Dude. like... I don't think I've cried about anything emotional or anything since I was twelve when my dog died." He smirked and looked up at the man, still slightly jarred to see a different face. "So, chinese? Wanna take yer car? I mean, mine ain't that great."
"Sure. And thats a lie! Remember when my liver gave out? You were cryin' like a baby." Like him-though, not as much as he was seeing how he had been in horrible.. horrible agony. Tony chuckled softly. "..Yeah. W'll take my care." Seeing how it was hot fresh off the lot and customized for optimum law-breaking/fun. Tony and Pickles rode down the elevator to the bottom floor.. and walked to the garage. Tony had to smile how nice things were.. it-this life.. just one big breath of fresh air-dispite the doubts lingering in his mind as to who he honestly was now. "So-what do you want.. I mean, where. I crave MSG.. but there are certain.. suttle levels." He laughed, and hopped into the driver's seat and revved the engine. "C'mon babe."
"Let's get the most MSG we can out of the deal. That shit's great." Pickles said, hopping into the passenger side and leaned back into it. Fuck seat belts, he knew Tony was a safe (if ridiculously speedy and fucking crazy) driver. "An' I might have been cryin' but it's like, dude. I couldn't help it, alright? You scared me, dude. An' okay, I broke down in the recovery room, too. Tony, yer my fuckin' rock dude, I ain't gunna let you go out so easy." He smiled and lit a cigarette before they blasted off. "You get in touch with yer band yet? Told 'em you need to expand yer horizons?"
"..I-" Tony sighed. "Not yet. I need to." He wanted to, he wanted to quit, but.. something held him back. He didn't honestly know what. Tony nodded in agreeance to the MSG-he wanted some to forget this confusion in his heart. How womanly, pigging out over emotions he didn't know what to feel about. Tony looked over to Pickles when they stopped at a stoplight. "It'll be weird. Me, Slash, going back to my true passion of Bass Guitar.. when people know me for Guitar here." He chuckled softly. "..And even then I wouldn't be.. who I used to be. I guess." He looked back to the road and started off again. "But.. I'm me, right? How.. how can you tell it's me?" If anyone would know who he was.. it was Pickles.
"Yer the only guy I know who has the balls to call me a fag, an' mean it." He looked over at Tony, one hand propping up his head as he rested his elbow on the door. "That an' it's the way you laugh. You might have a higher voice now, but you got this easy laugh, it's real.. y'know, it's you." He smirked, "An' what, you think anybody would come into this dude's body, immediately seek my Irish pale ass out an' listen to my bitchin' all day? Iunno, man." He winked at Tony, taking a drag of his cigarette. There were other little reminders, other tiny things that clued him in. Even though the kisses were more plush, they were still the same.
Tony sighed softly. "They're a plus-I mean.. Theres more to you than that. I thought I.. I thought I drilled that into your thick skull?" Tony laughed softly. "Like-Wanna freeze frame this moment right now. Like-where we can talk, and no one else can see us.. can hear us. Just.. us. Nothin' else. Doesn't matter if I'm in this body-my body.. your body, that body? ...just us again." He stopped at another light and flipped on his blinker-then tore off down the street with a loud tire squeal. "Hey-there we go. Panda Garden. Hope it's open." He pulled into a parking spot and tapped Pickles' shoulder. "Go see if it's open dude."
Pickles smiled and turned to the older man, leaning over and kissing him. It was deep, long, and important. "There is more to me, s'just buried under the perv." He jumped out and wandered over to the door, tugging it open. He flicked his cigarette out to the parking lot and nodded to Tony, before wandering in. "Two, smokin' if you got it." He said to the host, who nodded and waited for the other man to arrive before seating them in a booth with an ashtray. Pickles ordered a beer and the host just stared at Tony, unbelieving that such a high-profile star was in HIS restaurant.
"Uhh.. I'l have a beer. Strongest you got?" "Yessir Mr. Tony! Right way." The man ran off giggling to himself, Tony watched him with a raised brow. "..What was that about.." And looked at the menu, he began to read over what was what-that General Tso's chicken looked good.. with some steamed rice, spicy chicken and steamed veggies. He had to stay (somewhat) fit y'know! Tony set his menu aside when he was done, and a whole bottle of vodka and various Chinese wines and beers were brought over to their table. "Pick what like Mr. Tony. You think what to eating?" "..Uhh.. Yeah." He nodded, and relayed what he wanted while the man wrote it down on a small pad of paper.
Pickles rambled off a similar order, with a side of beef and broccoli, which he ordered as beef brocorri, and then some pok fly rye and an order of wonton soo. He was a dick, he knew it, but it didn't make the waiter flinch, or give him an upset look at all. "Yessirs right way be cook." With that, the man disappeared and Pickles snorted, amused. "Damn dude, you could get away with murder an' they wouldn't fuckin' say peep." He dragged one of the beers over to himself and proceeded to guzzle.
"I guess so." Tony laughed softly, and took up the Vodka and began to drink it down. "I can't even taste anything anymore. God. My taste bugs are fried by this shit." He laughed again. "Isn't their English adorable? It's cute. Like.. like they're kids. Y'know? I'm always like: "Awww~" More so when we went on our tour in Japan? You remember how wild that was." More so the Japanese "love potions" that kept them fucking nearly 90% of their time there.
"Dude, if I could have taken those twins home with me? I so woulda. My gad, they were cute and goddesses in bed. Who'da thunk, right? I mean... Dude. An' they were my age, fer chrissakes. I felt kinda overwhelmed, but I did learn a thing or two." He recalled fondly, getting a wholly satisfied smug smile. "Damn dude, I effin' love Japan." Weeaboo wut? Pickles finished his beer and moved onto the wine. "I wanna ask you a serious question. Real serious. You ever think y'know, you an' me, we'll make it? I mean, fer the long run? Fer reals? Cuz I'd like to think so. I mean, I know I'm young an' I ain't got much experience, but dude. I think this could be it, y'know?" Aww, tiny little Pickles, bearing his soul.
"...Sex?" Tony knit his brows. What was Pickles yammering about? What-the band, he and Pickles as a couple.. or fucking? Cause he knew for a fact Pickles was good. "..What.. uhh-whatcha mean exactly."
"No, not just th'sex, you nympho." Said the redhead who nearly jumped Tony's bones at least four times a day, "I mean, us... I mean, y'know... us." His eyes darted either way before looking down into the wine bottle. "Together. Don't make me spell it out fer you, I'll fuckin' kick yer ass if you don't know what I mean."
Tony's plush lips curved into a distinct smile: Teasing time. "..No.. I.. what do you mean? I mean-we're right here. Together now. Indulge me." He took a drink of vodka, and hissed at the sting rushing up his nose. He gurgled, and held his nose. "Nnnaaugh. Nasty shit." How'd it do that?? Damn vodka. He wiped his nose and blew. "Nnaughky."
"Fuckin' jackass. I mean us!" Pickles hissed. "Not just now, you stupid fuckin' spic, I mean fer, y'know, longer'n now. Fer... y'know..." He scowled and huffed, crossing his arms and curling up into the corner of the booth, taking a pull of the wine. "Nevermind. An'... you okay there? Yer not s'posed to use vodka as a nasal douche, y'douchebag."
"Yeah. I'm okay. Came up my nose for some reason." He snorted and rubbed his nose to clear out the smell. Tony looked over to Pickles. "..I know what you mean. I just.. I like to fuck with you is all man. You know that. Don't be a bitch." He took up a bottle of wine, and guzzled that down.
Their food arrived a few minutes later, the chef delivering it himself. "Can-I to get autograph?" "..Yeahsure. Gimme a pen. and some pa-" Three autogragh books were shoved into his face. "...Uhh-awesome." And he signed them all. He got hugs, pictures, the works.. and was finally left alone.
"...My fuckin' food is cold now. God-damn it."
Tony's assurance made Pickles uncurl from the seat, and after the giant mob rush of holyshit chinese fucktards, Pickles started eating. "It ain't cold, it's just now reached edible temperatures." He looked up at Tony. "But my question, dude. You didn't answer it. Do you think we'll last?" He shovelled as much beef and broccoli into his mouth as he could, apparently more hungry than he'd first thought. Had he even eaten in the past couple days? He couldn't remember.
Tony stopped for a moment, and looked up to Pickles with a blank expression. "..Lemme ask you a question, and you think about this if you want to..." He took another drink of the wine, and opened a beer. "..When I asked you that question so long ago.. why didn't you answer me?" And he went back to eating quietly.
Pickles furrowed his brow. "You never asked me that question. I woulda remembered." He didn't seem to have gotten the fact that Tony was farther down the timeline than him. And frankly, he wouldn't care. He wanted Tony there, and Tony was there. What more could he ask for? "Babe, I don't know what the hell yer talkin' about," He reiterated. "But if you think you did, well, I ain't gunna argue. All I know is that it's as good an answer as any. I wanna stay with you." He took another swig of the wine, and proceeded to work on his soup. He was a messy eater, but made sure it didn't get all over the place. Slob.
Tony finished his food soon enough and patted his stomach. "Mmmm. Chemicals and American made Chinese food. None better. I wanna hurl." He prolly was going to too. Tony finished off his third beer, and looked to the small pile of liquirs and alcohol they'd made. "Huh. Maybe we got a problem.." He raised a brow, and shook his head. "Nah." He wasn't drinking as much as he had in his old body-wow. That sounded like.. fuckin'.. invasion of the body snatchers or some shit.
It was a good thing, in Pickles' mind. They were... better somehow. It worried him to see a small fortress of bottles at the end of each day, needles everywhere, roaches in the ashtray that weren't his... it was really all depressing and he didn't want things to go down that road again. Not with such a bright future ahead of them. He finished his food shortly after. How one little man could pack away such a big order was something of a miracle, and still not gain a pound besides! "We'll be hungry again in like, an hour." He stated simply, slipping out of his side of the booth and into Tony's, leaning against him. "Don't be upset with me, baby, Iunno what happened, maybe you asked that an' I don't remember it 'cuz I was too fucked up at the time to remember." He looked up with big, worried eyes. "Babe? You know I wouldn't fuck with you fer reals, right?"
"You fuck with me for reals babe." Tony chuckled. "Last night you did.. and the night before-oh! And for breakfast this morning.." He laughed and nuzzled close to Pickles. "I know. I know-I figured.. well, I.. what I can remember: I was in a hotel room.. 'n you were fuckin' some broad? I come in, and she's moanin' like hell.. all fake. And I ask you if.. y'know, we'd stay together. And you were fuckin'.. wasted. I was too. But you say yeah, we are gonna. And then you go back to fuckin' here-and I stole your stash." Thats how it went.
Pickles shrugged, still smirking at the joke, "Iunno, I musta been outta my gourd or somethin'." He smiled then, slipping closer and pressing a kiss to Tony's cheek. Fuck it if anyone saw. He lit a cigarette and smiled. "So what you wanna do now that our guts are bustin' an' we got nowhere but that skanky crash pad to go?" His fingers trailed across Tony's arm, from elbow to wrist, and back up. "Could go hit up a couple nightclubs, or a bar, or, y'know... just find us a back alley somewheres..."
"What about the back seat of my car? Thats fun!" He grinned-and paused. "Wait a minute.. one of my now bandmates'll... they might find us." He bit his finger hard, brow knit together. "..Mother fucker!" Tony hissed and looked around. "I mean-I wanna quit. But I don't want them to catch me fuckin' the love of my life. Okay?"
Pickles raised a brow. "What's so bad about that? Is it 'cuz I look like that douchebag Axl? I mean, y'think he might think it's cuz you got a thing fer him? C'mon, dude." He nudged Tony. "I'll think'a somethin, London's a big city, it ain't like they'll all be like, oh hey, let's go get some Chinese food all of a sudden an' wind up here, too." Pickles slipped out of the booth and offered his hand to the other man. "Fine, y'big baby, we'll go home an' find new an' interestin' uses fer livin' room furniture."
"I guess we will." He slid out himself, and laid money on the table, more than enough for tips, and the meal itself. "Thanks." He waved to the waiter, and walked outside.
"Wow. He's weird for a star. Don'tcha think Jing?" "Yeah. But you know those Hollywood type. Not real." Jing, and the waister laughed-who knew community college english could be so much fun!
Tony sat in the driver's side, and watched Pickles flop in. "..If you really do wanna go out, tell me. I.. I'm just a lil worried they'll find and out me."
"Nah, I just don't wanna go home yet. That place is depressing. I mean, to think that was what that guy I replaced thought of as home, as... y'know, his life. That was someone's like, whole life there. Porn mags and shitty furniture, an' a snake. Good fer him - not." He sighed as he got in as well, "But hey, it ain't as bad as gettin' outted if you think you will be. G'on an' get us home. I'll think'a somethin' when we get there." Pickles leaned back in the passenger seat, "Could drive to the ocean, see what the atlantic looks like from this country, or completely ignore it."
"See the Atlantic? I remember this guy--" He pointed to himself. "Saw the Atlantic here." He smiled. "Let's go do that." He looked to Pickles. "You really wanna? Hell-we could fuck in my backseat too, if you wanna." He raised a brow, and lit a cigarette. It dangled from his pouty lips as he awaited Pickles' answer.
"Classy, I say we do it." He smiled, "Both at the same time. I don't see much harm in either option, much less both." He looked over at Tony and shook his head, "Christ, babe, what the hell. You look fuckin' hot enough I could take you right now. Better gun it if you don't wanna have to pull over somewhere random."
Tony grinned, and jetted down the street, foot to the metal. He calmly put his cigarette in the tray while speeding between two cars, and pulling a sharp turn toward the coast. He knew the other's memories-Slash's memories.. where telling him where to go. How to get to the coast.. one spot.. Tony had a seisure on the road-he called it driving.. and soon enough they sat on top of cliffs that led down a rocky path to the water itself. Tony smiled and looked back to Pickles. "Well.. well.. well... Here we are."
"Yeah, good thing, too, because I was just about to do this..." Pickles muttered a second before he started unbuttoning the leather pants that Tony was wearing, licking his lower lip in anticipation. There was really no preamble - talking about it was enough foreplay for him - he just slipped over and slid his hand down to find the other man's member, stroking slightly. "An' I really don't trust you behind the wheel if yer gettin' road head. You fuckin' maniac." He said, stealing a kiss. He had thought about having Tony make the first move, he also thought during their drive about how odd it was for him not even to remember the slightest bit about that conversation they'd apparently had. He would have remembered something from it. He had already put it out of his mind as he moved his free hand to the lever at the side of Tony's seat, pulling it and dropping the back of the seat down into a reclined position. Easier access to the back, that way.
"Gah!" Tony held onto Pickles' arms, and laughed when his head hit the seat once more "Ow. Fuck." He let go of Pickles' arms and pushed his hair back. The (former) Latino smiled at Pickles, and lifted his hips up. "Baby-you're bad." Tony knew Pickles was a spoiled brat, and he'd take what he wanted.
"Y'think so?" He asked, continuing to stroke. He smiled, all teeth and smug, before dipping down and running a trail from root to tip with his tongue, flicking it across the head of the other man. "I don't think I'm that bad." He said in his defense, but that was all he said before his lips wrapped around Tony's erection, and he started to suck. It felt different, but not in a bad way. Just - different. He wasn't going to argue with the fact that he enjoyed himself immensely. He let out a little coo through his nose, fingers slipping up the other man's chest, his other hand lightly playing with his balls.
Tony gripped the sides of his seat, head hitting the back of the chair again.. and again. He moaned softly, his eyes closed.. those big dick suckers parted, gasping softly. "..Christ-he.. he must've been... sellin' himself. You're-" He moaned again. "..You're killer babe." Giving blow-jobs, he meant. No one was naturally born that good at them. It took lots of practice.
That brought up a rather interesting memory that Pickles was sure wasn't his. He continued to suck for a few more moments, tongue undulating over one vein before he slipped away, "Yeah. He was." He admitted, before going back down, and farther still. No way in hell he could've gotten this good at it so quickly. He didn't have this kind of skill before. Why he didn't realize it before was beyond him, but... damn, even he knew he was good. Pickles took Tony's arousal all the way, not even a gag, though he did tear up a bit, his eyes going misty due to the fact that his throat wasn't entirely used to this sensation.
Tony braced his legs against the dash board, his foot turning on the blinkers, headlights, and windshield wipers. Though, he hadn't put the break off, which was extremely good news for them-falling off a cliff to their doom.. well-it was appealing: If he wanted to commit suicide! Tony moaned deeper, like a rumble in his chest-like he used to in his own body-"Y-yeah babe.. you.. you-could suck chrome off a bumper."
He moaned through his nose at the groan the other man let out, it was perfect. Pickles continued on, wanting to have Tony cum, or to tell him to stop and take him hard and furious, like he used to. He sucked, more fervent than before, playing his nails lightly down Tony's chest. This was magic. He scrambled with his other hand to try and turn off the headlights, blinkers and windshield wipers, but only got the wipers to stop.
Tony bit his bottom lip hard, and pushed on Pickles' head. "Babe-Babe. Get naked." He tugged Pickles from his cock. "Gotta fuck you man. Get back there-" He shoved a thumb at the backseat, and opened his door. Tony reluctantly pulled away and undressed down to his skin. Tony opened the back door and slammed his seat up, pushed the back-seat back to lay flat against the floor. And he laid out himself. "C'mon babe. Let's fuck~"
Pickles smirked at that, slipping away and wiping the spit from the corners of his mouth with the back of his arm. He followed suit, tugging off his clothes and slipping into the back seat, laying flush against Tony's side, petting across the bassist's chest, "Fuck me, baby, do it like you wanna." He said into the man's ear, nibbling the lobe. He was already riled up enough with just the thought of it.