Work Text:
Ronnie stumbled out the backdoor of the club, already reaching for another cigarette as he dropped the one he had just finished, squashing it with his heel. He leant against the wall, breathing in a momentary respite from the smoke, glad for the fresh air.
Being a Wednesday (or maybe Thursday) night, it wasn’t very busy, mostly Stones sycophants and people with too much time on their hands. Ronnie fitting the bill for both. Still, there was something about the quiet and emptiness of these alleys he enjoyed after the manic energy of being inside. The contrast was poetic, or something. This was a nice one, very secluded, only a few dim street lights that did nothing to hide the darkness, and a cool breeze that made Ronnie acutely aware of how hot and sweaty he had gotten. Maybe he would sketch it.
He brought the new fag to his mouth, lighter ready in the other hand, only to hear the door open again next to him.
“Ronnie! There you are.”
And who else could it be but Mick Jagger, looking significantly more wasted than when Ronnie had seen him a few hours ago. He all but tripped over the door and leant next to Ronnie, far too close for anyone’s definition of personal space. Although Ronnie had found after a couple of years in the Rolling Stones that personal space was a concept that disappeared after a little while, and especially with a drunk Mick Jagger.
“My God, you look absolutely trashed .” Ronnie laughed around the cigarette still in his mouth, hands occupied with trying, and failing, to ignite his lighter.
“You can fucking talk.” Mick pouted.
“Well, I wear it better.”
“If you say so.” Mick said, pointedly smiling at Ronnie’s repeated cigarette lighting attempts.
Ronnie squinted at his lighter. Maybe Mick was right. He could barely see the lighter in front of him, let alone get his fingers to do that well practised act, the wind offering no advantage. He laughed again.
“Here, let me try.” Mick offered, moving from the wall to stand, again far too close, in front of Ronnie.
Ronnie looked straight at him, and finally took the cigarette out his mouth, smirking. “Michael, you are far too drunk to be dealing with faulty lighters.”
Ronnie handed it to him anyway.
Mick took the lighter, flicked it two or three times, and suddenly there was light.
“Fuck you.”
The fag went back to it’s rightful place, and Ronnie gestured for Mick to give back the lighter, but instead Mick brought the flame up to Ronnie’s cigarette himself, holding Ronnie in place with a hand under his chin. They locked eyes and annoyingly, Ronnie’s pulse quickened.
Ronnie didn’t want to admit that Mick’s games were getting under his skin, but after yet another encounter where sneaking away to a bathroom stall together to do a couple lines turned into making out against the door, hands riding up under shirts, soft moans and twisted tongues - and then Mick would leave. And Ronnie would stay and deal with the inevitable hard-on Mick had given him. It was very hard to deny Mick was getting to him.
He didn’t know how it had happened. He supposed it had started on nights out, Mick giving him a peck on the cheek or getting overly cuddly. Short giggly kisses while Mick sat in his lap and Ronnie was too out of it to care. And now it was their new normal, worse than that, for Ronnie at least it wasn’t enough.
“I can feel the fire, burning, burning, burning, burning…”
Mick was whisper singing their song, waving the lighter around slowly, the cigarette having now been lit.
Ronnie took a drag, coughing as he laughed. “I can’t believe you still remember doing that.”
Mick gasped and put a hand to his chest in Mick dramatics. “You would me. How could I ever forget?”
“I bet you don’t remember scamming me out my money though.”
“As I recall it…” Mick said slowly, stumbling his words slightly, “we made a very fair and equal exchange.”
“Twat.” Ronnie said, blowing smoke into Mick’s face.
Mick waved the smoke away, and leant forward. “Gi’us a kiss.”
Well, Mick had had more than a couple lines tonight. It was bound to be coming. But, to be fair, so had Ronnie.
“Only if you give me the lighter first.”
Mick tossed him the lighter, and Ronnie foolishly tried to grab it with one hand, but of course failed, and the lighter clattered to the ground somewhere to the side of him.
They both looked at it, then suddenly Ronnie was being pressed against the wall, Mick holding onto his jacket while he slammed his lips against his. Ronnie kissed back, shutting his eyes instinctively. He moaned as Mick slipped his tongue inside his mouth, and lazily brought one hand to grip at the back of Mick’s hair, his other still holding the cigarette, dangling at his side. He missed Mick’s long hair, he thought.
Mick pulled away, biting on Ronnie’s lip as he did so, and Ronnie followed, making a little noise of annoyance as he realised Mick had stopped kissing him. He opened his eyes, and saw Mick staring at him. He was breathing heavily, eyes dilated and lips parted.
“Is that my jacket?” He said.
Ronnie looked down at the leather jacket he was wearing. Yeah that was definitely Mick’s. Mick quite liked that jacket too. Oops.
“Well, Mick,” Ronnie realised he was breathing quite heavily too. “I prefer to think of it as our jacket.”
Mick rolled his eyes and pulled him back into the kiss. Ronnie moaned in agreement again, his head hitting the wall behind him, gripping his arm against Mick’s waist now, who seemed to be trying to press every bit of his body against Ronnie’s. Ronnie’s tongue scraped against Mick’s diamond, the one that he had put on his tooth a few years ago. Ronnie smiled into the kiss. He fucking loved that tooth diamond. Mick’s hands had now found their way under Ronnie’s (Mick’s) jacket and were busying themselves with travelling downwards. Ronnie shifted a little as Mick got to his waistband and started trying to lift his shirt up from where it was tucked into his trousers, inadvertently rubbing their crotches together. His breath hitched and his cock twitched against Mick’s. His grip on Mick’s waist tightened.
He could feel it was Mick grinning against him now, and he finally lifted Ronnie’s shirt up, running his fingers along and inside the waistband of his trousers. Ronnie’s hips jerked forward at the touch of his skin and Mick gasped, biting Ronnie’s lip again. Then Mick was palming Ronnie’s dick and Ronnie’s knees buckled. He groaned, and took one last swipe at the diamond before breaking their lips apart. “Mick…”
Mick had taken the opportunity to start licking at the side of his mouth instead. Mick was a big licker, Ronnie had found. He was moving down his jaw now… Still a lot of licking, some nibbling… Ronnie moved his head to the side to accommodate. “Mick…” he said again, breathlessly. His cock was straining against his jeans now.
“Too far?” Mick mumbled into his neck, sucking and biting and creating what Ronnie was sure would become hickies.
Ronnie paused. “No.”
Without him even needing to say it, Mick started trying to unbutton his trousers, and they chuckled as they knocked heads together, both trying to look down to get at it. The cig was still (hopefully) burning in his hand, but he tried to use his free one. Ronnie’s hand brushed against Mick’s as they both fumbled with the button, then the zip, Mick battling Ronnie’s hand away - then finally, finally, Mick was reaching into Ronnie’s pants and pulled his cock out. It sprung up. If Ronnie wasn’t completely hard already, he definitely was now.
“I think he likes you,” Ronnie chuckled nervously.
Mick cocked his head, gave him a look like. Really? While I’ve got your dick in my hand? Which Ronnie thought was fair. But it was a softer look than was usual from him.
Mick gave an experimental tug. Ronnie felt on fire. On the list of things he would never have guessed would happen in his life, Mick Jagger giving him a handjob behind the back of a club had to be-
Mick dropped to his knees. Oh. Maybe not a handjob then.
Mick took hold of his cock again and grinned up at him as he slowly started licking along the shaft. “I’m very good at this, you know.”
Ronnie could barely think, let alone answer Mick at this point. He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. “Yeah, I bet.” He said hoarsely. God, he’d had more fantasies about this than he’d like to admit. With lips like those, how could he not have? He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to last, when even the sight of Mick on his knees looking up at him felt uncontrollably hot.
Mick was holding the base of his cock with one hand, and still slowly licking round the rest of it. He turned his attention to the tip, flicking his tongue over the slit. “Fuck.” Ronnie whispered, and looked down at Mick again. As if he was waiting for Ronnie’s gaze, Mick finally wrapped his lips around his cock.
Mick Jagger’s famous lips, all pillowy soft and heavenly around Ronnie’s cock, feeling as good, no better, than Ronnie imagined. Not only did Mick know he was good, he seemed intent on proving this to Ronnie too, moving over his cock like it was the only thing in the world he cared about, fervently sucking. He’d come up for air, drool trailing from his mouth, and swirl his tongue around Ronnie’s cock in a way that made his insides curl, but then Mick’s mouth was right back on his cock again, head bobbing up and down.
Without thinking about it, Ronnie clutched his hands in Mick's hair. Still breathing heavy, his eyes squeezed shut, the back of his head against the wall, looking up, as if in prayer. It would be too much if he looked down.
But what with Mick’s big mouth (figurative, not literal, although-) he did end up having to do just that. “Get that fucking thing away from my hair.” Mick mumbled around his cock, in presumed disgust, attempting to give a truly devastating side-eye to Ronnie’s hand gripping his hair, where Ronnie was still holding the cigarette between his fingers. Oh, Ronnie had forgotten about that. He was fairly sure it would’ve gone out by now anyway. Still, all the more reason to chuck it.
“Oh, sorry,” Ronnie giggled.
He dropped it down and squashed it with his boot. Habit.
He grabbed hold of Mick’s hair again and pulled on it slightly, as encouragement. Mick moaned, and enthusiastically got back to work, dragging his mouth along his cock, then picking up the pace again. Cheeks hollow, eyes looking up at Ronnie, always.
Mick kept one hand rubbing at the base of his cock, his mouth deftly working over the top, sucking and licking like his life depended on it. Ronnie was still having a hard time looking down at Mick down there on his knees, as if the sensation of his lips or his tongue or the warmth of his mouth or even the little hums of satisfaction he was making that sent vibrations all through Ronnie weren’t enough already.
Again, Ronnie succumbed, and locked eyes with Mick, who was palming his own cock over his trousers with his free hand. Mouth still intently focused on Ronnie’s cock, he slipped his hand into his pants and moaned, his eyes closing for the first time.
“Fuck.” Ronnie whispered, and tightened his grip in Mick’s hair, pushing Mick onto his cock slightly more. Mick moaned again, sending chills through Ronnie. A light scrape of teeth sent Ronnie’s hips jerking forward, slamming his cock into the back of Mick’s throat. Mick shot back, coughing.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry. Shit.” Ronnie winced.
“You’re good,” Mick said hoarsely, attempting a smile. “Just maybe give me some warning next time.”
Ronnie nodded.
“Here,” Mick grabbed Ronnie’s thighs and pulled himself on top of Ronnie’s cock again, “It’s your fucking fault if my voice is shot tomorrow, but let’s do it properly.”
And with both hands gripping onto Ronnie, Mick lowered his mouth onto his cock again, starting off slow, but building up speed as he travelled further down, till Ronnie felt his cock at the back of Mick’s mouth for the second time. But Mick kept going this time, no gagging, all the way with Ronnie’s cock down his throat and his mouth at the base, nose pressed into his pubes. By now, Ronnie was on the edge, breathing heavy and pulse quick, and he started thrusting into Mick’s mouth, who was prepared this time and slowed down his own movements, letting Ronnie take over sliding in and out of Mick’s throat, his eyes glazed over.
“Fuck. Mick. I’m so close.”
Mick pulled off, mouth wet and lips flushed, barely taking a second to breathe before taking the tip of his cock back in his mouth, and with a few well placed tongue movements Ronnie was coming, jerking into Mick, who kept his lips wrapped around his cock, swallowing everything.
When Ronnie had finished, Mick finally leant back, after licking off a few drops of cum still left on the slit, which burned on Ronnie’s sensitive skin there. Leant back, still on his knees, Mick looked a mess. His eyes were watering, his hair was all out of place from where Ronnie’s hands were running through it. His lips were swollen beautifully and there were still the traces of spit. Mick was staring at him, breathing laboured, and Ronnie was entranced in his post-orgasm haze.
Mick stood up shakily, wiping his mouth. Ronnie watched him through half-lidded eyes, still coming down. He tucked his dick back into his jeans, and his eyes flicked down to Mick’s, where he was now noticeably hard.
“You need any help with that?” Ronnie asked.
Mick grinned. “Nah, think I can get one of the girls inside to sort me out. You wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
Ronnie’s experiences with guys prior to Mick hadn’t gone beyond quick handjobs and drunken fumblings, but it’s not like Mick’s was the first cock he’d ever encountered. Whatever. He’d let Mick believe that if it pleased him.
Mick stumbled back to the door, and Ronnie found himself saying “Isn’t your wife here?”
Mick stopped, and looked back at Ronnie. “You didn’t have a problem with that ten fucking seconds ago. Where’s yours?”
Ronnie shrugged, and looked down.
After a couple of seconds, he saw Mick bend down out of the corner of his eye. “Here,” Mick said, and tossed him his lighter. Ronnie caught it. Shit, he had forgotten about that.
He’d also forgotten that anyone could have walked in on them while they were getting up to what they were. The thought briefly crossed his mind of that being sort of hot, but fuck that would be way more trouble than it’s worth. They were very lucky. He’d have to be more careful next time - assuming there was. He didn’t want to think about that now.
“Have fun.” He said back to Mick, who smiled.
“I will,” he said, and left, back into the pounding heartbeat of the club. Ronnie stayed, and lit another cigarette.