by K. C. Wells
“I’m so used to worrying we’ll get caught,” he whispered when they drew back to take a breath. “This is nice.”
Danny dragged his shirt over his head and went to pull Elliot’s off too. “I know.” He leaned back over, pressing their chests together and taking Elliot’s lips in a slow, deep kiss. They’d never gone much further, even if they talked about it constantly in breathy whispers and frustrated moans. There’d never been the privacy or time back at the house. But he wanted to… so much. It would be new territory for them both. Elliot lifted his hips into Danny’s, slow and grinding. His breath caught on a moan and he arched back, dragging his hands to Danny’s butt to pull hard.
“C’mon,” he groaned.
“What do you want?” Danny asked. He didn’t want to presume.
“What can I have?”
Danny squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Elliot’s neck. Visions hot and fast flashed through his mind—him and Elliot naked and locked together, sweaty, slick; Elliot’s tight body around his. He coughed.
“Danny?” Elliot asked. When Danny raised his head, he was met with eyes, big and brown and concerned. “Did I freak you out?”
“Not at all.” He pushed a loose springy wave off Elliot’s face. He’d never get sick of being able to do that. “It’s just I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, waiting, wanting, but neither of us have done this before. Not like this.”
“And I never have at all.” Elliot’s head flopped back onto the bed. His eyes shut.
“Hey.” Danny nudged him.
“What?”
“That doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out together, okay? Take it slow.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow. “How slow?”
Danny reached for the button on Elliot’s shorts. “Not that slow,” he said with a chuckle. He leaned over and kissed the smooth skin of Elliot’s belly. “Do you know what it used to do to me when you’d come out of the shower all half-wet with that tiny towel around your hips?”
Elliot grinned. “I know what I hoped it would do.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re a jerk.” Danny pulled Elliot’s zipper down and tried not to let his heart flutter right out of his throat when Elliot bit his lip and lifted his hips to help Danny push his jeans off. Danny slid his palms up slim legs until he was cupping Elliot through his briefs. “But you got what you wanted. It drove me insane.”
Elliot groaned. “Just like your swim trunks drove me insane. I swear sometimes it looked like they were barely holding on by your ass.”
“It’s big enough to hold them up,” Danny muttered with an eye roll.
“It’s perfect.” Elliot pushed at Danny’s shorts. “Off.”
They just stared for a while, long moments of quiet before Elliot reached out and touched his fingertips to Danny’s chest. “No one’s gonna come in here,” he whispered.
“I know,” Danny answered. He knew what Elliot was asking. The answer was yes. Of course, yes. He’d been wanting it for so long. “C’mere.” Danny crawled to the top of his bed and pulled back the light covers.
Elliot followed him under the covers, then gave Danny a nervous grin before he reached down to pull his briefs off. Danny did the same and with a long shudder they came together, skin and bodies and limbs brushing from head to toe, entwining, colliding—becoming one. As it should be.
“El,” Danny whispered. He cupped Elliot’s face and kissed him. He didn’t know what to say, how to tell Elliot how much it meant to him, how much they meant to him. I love you so much….
Elliot returned the kiss, hands on Danny’s face, hands running down his back, “This…,” he whispered into Danny’s kiss. “You. You’re the most important thing in my life. How did it happen?”
Danny kissed Elliot’s palm. “I don’t think it could’ve not happened. Somehow, we would’ve met. We would’ve ended up together.”
“I—” Elliot swallowed hard. His eyes went wide but instead of talking, he took Danny’s lips in a desperate kiss. Danny had been waiting for the day when he’d have Elliot’s body all to himself, when long lengths of skin and soft curls and curves of muscle would be his to touch without interruption. He’d been waiting.
But none of that waiting and imagining could’ve prepared him for Elliot’s smile, tucked into the curve of his neck, for shy, breathless kisses on unexplored skin, for the taste of Elliot’s mouth when there was the luxury of time to notice it. They were a tangle of lips and fingers and long, slow shivers.
When Elliot touched him for the first time, curled fingers around straining flesh, Danny thought he’d explode. When Elliot’s lips and tongue followed his fingers, wet heat and groans and hesitant suction, he did explode, back arched in shock and biting down on his hand.
Elliot grinned yet again and crawled up from underneath the covers to kiss Danny, his mouth quirking on the side with a lazy, satisfied smirk.
“I didn’t think you’d do that,” Danny murmured to him.
“Why?” Elliot asked. “I’ve been wanting to.”
Danny got another kiss and a wriggly, squirmy Elliot, hard and rubbing up against him.
“You know what?” Danny asked with his own smile, less smirky, more indulgent.
“What?” Elliot asked.
“I’ve been wanting it too.”
“You have?” There was a hitch in Elliot’s breath, excitement and maybe a bit of fear.
Danny nodded. It was his turn—his turn to kiss and lick and taste. His turn to watch Elliot’s back bow, to groan in satisfaction when Elliot grabbed at the blankets, at his hair, desperate for purchase. To shiver when a quiet “Oh God, Danny,” broke the near silence. He didn’t stop, not until he got what he’d wanted, what he’d needed—watching Elliot unravel until he lost all grip on control. Until he could surface from under the blankets, satisfied, and flop into Elliot’s arms and look his fill at the boy who’d taken over his entire soul.
Sunlight splashed on pale skin and dark curls, Elliot’s beautiful smile, usually bright and cheery was soft, sleepy, something meant only for him. Languid touches trailed along Danny’s spine, kisses brushed across his nose, and those thick-lashed brown eyes, the ones he dreamed of in his sleep, were right there in front of him, heavy lidded and full of awe. This was what had come to mean everything to Danny, not his dream of being a singer, not his growing career. He and Elliot. They were what mattered most.
Danny Bright @DannyBoy94
@EPriceisRight Morning sunshine! Breakfast is ready :) #jealousladies?
Elliot Price @EPriceisRight
@Dannyboy94 Coffee!! I need coffee!! <3
Mrs. Price @Elliot4evah
@Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight Cream and sugar, boys?
Elliot Price @EPriceisRight
@Elliot4evah Who needs sugar when there’s Danny? ;)
Reece Beaufort @SouthernBoyReece
@Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight You two are so cute… where’s MY breakfast?
Tate Ryan @TateRyan_RL
@SouthernBoyReece Sorry honeybear! On my way ;) @Dannyboy94 @EPriceisRight
DELLY IS ON!!
A Candy Scoop Exclusive
You heard it here first, girls! DANNY BRIGHT and ELLIOT PRICE, two of our favorite hotties from STATIC are off the market—with each other!!
Just kidding of course… wink, wink.
While they may not be exchanging vows any time soon, it seems like our boys have taken their raging bromance to the next level and are looking for an apartment in the city together!
OMG, how adorbs is that?!?
Neither are keen to stay at home with the ’rents, and the daily drive in for meetings, interviews, and oh so glamorous photo shoots was just too annoying—either that or they just missed their snuggle time. We’re voting on the second option and still hoping for pictures!
No news on the whereabouts of said love nest, but as soon as we know, you will!
—CS
“I’M NOT wearin
g this,” Reece growled. “I look like a fucking dork.”
Elliot tried to hold in his laughter, but he couldn’t. They all looked like dorks.
Reece, badass Southern boy Reece, who typically wore faded jeans and band T-shirts had on a fitted pair of khakis, a cable-knit sweater in a light minty-green, and a button-up underneath it. He looked supremely uncomfortable and yes, pretty damn dorky. Webb’s shirt wasn’t quite as bad, but it was still pastel, and it coordinated with Reece’s sweater. Danny had on a pale-colored denim jacket. He’d gotten off the easiest; they’d stuck Elliot with a button up of a different color and effing suspenders, like, really? Suspenders? Tate had a polo with the collar popped ’80s style and slim-cut white jeans. They had on matching white Converse. All of them. Matching shoes. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so damn embarrassing.
“Shut up, suspenders.” Reece shot Elliot a glare, which only made him laugh harder. “And what did they do to your hair?”
Elliot’s messy curls had been styled into a shape he had no name for, swooping off to the side and flipping up. He’d gotten subtle highlights too. He kept trying to shake his hair, to get it going the way it used to, but the stylist had known how to cut it just right so he’d never look exactly like he used to again.
“Look at Tate,” Reece snickered. Gone were the sandy, shaggy surfer locks. In their place was a towering quiff, more bleached blond than anything. “He looks like a cross between Jimmy Neutron and a douche.”
“You’re mean.” Elliot still laughed behind his hand.
“Why did they leave Danny alone?” he asked.
Elliot shrugged. “Danny already had an expensive haircut. Guess he didn’t need as much help as the rest of us lowlifes.”
“But they did stick him in a pink jacket, and those pants? They’re so tight he’s gonna be singing soprano.”
Elliot had noticed the pants. Damn. They were tight. And on Danny, tight was a work of art, hugging his thighs and that perfectly round—Oh my God….
“Are you drooling at his ass?” Reece asked.
“Mmmhmmm,” Elliot answered absentmindedly. His gaze never left Danny once.
Reece shoved him, laughing. “Keep it in your pants ’til we’re done with the shoot, please.”
Elliot rolled his eyes.
AFTER they got over their humiliation at being overly styled and coiffed within an inch of their lives, the photo shoot wasn’t bad. Fun, in a tiring kind of way. Sure, they had to pose and act like they were laughing when they weren’t and jump up and down and land in piles of elbows and knees and feet flying in the air, but it was them, and Elliot was glad to be with his friends driving the photographer nuts and making everyone smile.
Elliot was dragging by the time they were done with the photo shoot, though. It had been fun being dorks with his friends, cheesy outfits or not, but they’d been there for hours. He was more than ready to go home, get in bed with Danny and never get up again. They were all packing up to leave when they heard the screams coming from outside, faint but growing.
“What’s that sound?” Webb asked.
All the boys froze. “I can’t tell,” Tate answered. He went over to the window and looked out. Tate’s eyes slowly widened. “You gotta see this,” he murmured. “No way.”
“What is it?” Danny asked. He joined Tate at the window. “Holy crap. Guys, come here.”
Elliot, Reece, and Webb made their way over to the window. When he looked out, Elliot’s stomach dropped.
There were hundreds of them. Screaming, waving signs and cameras, and jumping up and down, pressed against the building in a raging hormonal sea of teenage girls. It was both really exciting and terrifying as hell.
“We gotta go out that way to get to our van, guys. They’re right in front of the parking lot.”
“What are we going to do?” There was no way they’d make it through that crowd without getting ripped to shreds.
The photographer came back into the room. “Wait here, boys. We’ve called the police. Somebody must’ve tipped off a radio station to your location. They announced it on air.” The photographer made a disgusted noise. “What did they think was going to happen?”
“I guess not this.”
The boys all looked at each other in awe. “Can you believe they’re all out there to meet us?” Reece asked, voice quiet.
“Us…,” Webb echoed. “It’s crazy.”
“Should we just go and talk to them?” Tate asked. “Maybe it’ll be okay.”
“Absolutely not,” boomed a voice from the corner. Peter, one of the team from White Star, their new management company, strode into the studio. “It’s not safe out there, guys. We don’t want any of you to get hurt, and we don’t want the fans to get hurt either. The police will put up a barricade so the girls can see you. We have to wait.”
Elliot sank down the wall until he was sitting on the floor of the studio. Screams still echoed from outside, intensifying. Sirens blipped. The police must’ve shown up. He stood to look out the window, watching while the cops barricaded a walkway for him and his friends to get by and wondered how any of it had happened. Just a few months ago they’d been standing in Sasha’s office, not even sure they had a contract.
“Okay, gentlemen. Let’s go. They have it ready for you.”
Elliot exited the building to a wall of noise. He’d known there was a crowd outside, heard it from inside the studio, but nothing could’ve prepared him for what it was really like once he was standing right in front of it. The police barricades barely held them back, this rolling wave of screaming faces and arms and grabbing hands. There was barely three feet between the barricade and the building. It was tempting to hug the walls of the building just to escape the noise and the grabbing and the girls.
“Holy fuck,” Reece whispered. Even if they’d seen it from inside, none of them had really felt it, coming off the crowd in waves—desperation, mania, aggression, all of it shoving against the hastily erected wooden railings and the police who’d spaced themselves along the corridor. Elliot looked back at Reece. He knew Reece wasn’t good with crowds, learned that one night on the way out of a particularly crowded movie. This wasn’t going to be fun for him.
Elliot took a deep breath and started down the stairs toward the narrow walkway, their only way out. The girls surged forward, making the barrier shudder. Police pushed them back, as nicely as they could, but still…. Elliot felt bad. He waved at the girls, stuck his hand out to high-five a few of them. His hands were grabbed, and he got pulled off his feet toward the wave of girls grasping his shirt and his arms and even his waistband. Only a policeman’s arms, wrapped around him, stopped him from going over the barrier. He was disoriented, nearly fell to the ground. He stumbled toward the wall, away from the crowd.
“El, come here.” Webb tossed an arm around his shoulder. Webb’s solid presence helped steady him. “You okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just got a bit intense there for a minute.”
“No kidding. Stay back here. Wave.”
Elliot nodded. They walked, closer to the wall, waving and smiling at the girls until they turned the corner of the building to the fenced area where their van was parked.
It was better. Much better. There were still fans, crafty ones who’d figured out how to get behind the fence, but the main crowd hadn’t gotten that far. These girls were waiting, much calmer, quiet enough that the cops hadn’t noticed them.
“Guys,” he said quietly. “Let’s sign a few things for people.”
Reece threw him a panicked look. “Are you crazy?” he mouthed, but Danny threw an arm over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. Reece nodded, and the five of them stopped, reaching out to sign notebooks, pillows, a hard copy here and there of the single that had just been released.
“I love you, Elliot!” called a soft voice from the small crowd.
“Danny, Danny, Danny!” said another girl, trying to get his attention.
Others were calling f
or Tate, for Reece, for Webb. Everyone seemed to want a piece of them. It was intense and awe-inspiring, and even in much smaller doses, kind of terrifying. One girl had tears streaming down her face, black tracks of ruined mascara dripping from her chin onto her shirt. Elliot reached out to her.
“Don’t cry,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “It’s okay. Smile.” He wiped at her tears, and she dragged in another breath.
“I j-just didn’t think I’d get to meet you.”
He was overwhelmed. There was no other word for it. These girls were crying… over him and his friends? Elliot was pretty sure he’d never get used to it. “Do you want me to sign anything for you?” he prodded gently.
“Y-yes. Here.” She thrust a notebook out and a pen.
“What’s your name?”
“Sabrina,” she said. Her voice was shaky, but it had calmed.
Thanks for your support, Sabrina! We couldn’t do it without you. Lots of love
—Elliot
He hugged her one more time, then leaned back. Suddenly, Elliot realized he was the only one left out with the fans. The other guys had headed toward the van. Danny had his arm around Reece and helped him up into the van. But instead of getting in himself, he turned and walked back.
“I’ve gotta steal Elliot now, girls,” he called with a grin. Then he leaned in and whispered in Elliot’s ear. “Let’s go now, babe. Before they eat you.”
Elliot grinned. “Bye, everyone!” he called. “Thanks for coming!”
He didn’t think anyone could hear over the deafening screams that came from the place where the parking lot gate had just opened. Danny rushed him toward their van, and they jumped in, sliding the door closed and blocking out some of the noise. Their van rumbled to life and started to move. All of a sudden it jolted, bodies slammed against the outside.
“Dumb girls!” The driver swore under his breath. “Are they trying to get killed?”
The boys stared at each other, none sure of what to say.