bandomstuffsit

Title: Tonight (We Are Young)
Author:

eledhwenlin
Pairing(s): Ian Crawford/Ray Toro
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Word count: 3.8k
Summary: Ian and Ray celebrate their anniversary.

Ray loves working at a record label. He gets to tell young bands that they'll be recording their first albums, can see their joy and sheer energy in the studio. He loves helping them figure out riffs and melodies and drawing up tour schedules.

He likes his job a lot less when everyone decides that it's definitely Ray's job to deal with the baby band whose lead singer is currently having a breakdown over not being able to sing the line the way he thinks it should sound like.

By the time Ray's managed to calm everyone down, he really needs a break. The bakery across the street from their offices has these awesome cupcakes—they're called Snow White, Rumpelstiltskin, and Bambi, and they come with icing in colours that only large amounts of food colouring can create, but fuck it. Right now Ray deserves a cupcake with bright red icing and a cherry stuck on top.

So, of course, right then his cell phone rings. Ray almost doesn't take the call, but then his professionalism wins out. "Sing It Record Label, Ray Toro speaking."

There's silence on the other end of the line. "Bad timing?" Ian asks.

Ray sinks back into his chair. "Perfect timing," he says. "As long as you don't use the words music, record, or label in the next five minutes."

Ian laughs. "I think I can manage that," he says. "I just wanted to remind you about tonight."

A thousand butterflies come to live in Ray's belly, and he smiles. "As if I could forget about our anniversary," he says. "Am I allowed to know the big secret yet?"

"Nope," Ian says. "Only if you come home on time tonight."

"That's harsh."

Ian snorts. "It's our anniversary," he says, "Mr Oh-I-just-wanted-to-reply-to-one-more-email. Either you come home on time tonight, or you'll sleep outside."

"Well, then I'll have to try my best to get home early," Ray says.

"That's the right attitude," Ian says. "Listen, I gotta go, Mary-Ann's here for her lesson. See you tonight."

"Bye," Ray says. He stares at his phone long after Ian's hung up. He's startled when someone bounces into his office.

"Did the boyfriend call again?" Frank says. "You look twitterpated."

"Fuck you," Ray says. "You're jealous because I'm going to get laid tonight and you won't."

Frank sits down on Ray's desk, mindless pushing the papers littering it aside. "I have three kids," he says. "I get laid plenty."

"Stop sitting on top of contracts!" Ray tries to push Frank away, which makes Frank just lie down on Ray's desk for real.

"But it's so comfy." Frank grins. "By the way, I was thinking of going to see Travis again. Wanna come with?"

"I already have a boyfriend," Ray says.

"Yeah, but remember how close it was last time. You almost didn't meet him."

Ray thinks this is wildly exaggerated. Or maybe not as much as he would like. "But I did meet him—that's the important part," he says.

"All because of me." This is the thing that Frank's been utterly irritating about. The problem is, though, that he's right.

"Yes," Ray says. "It happened all because of you."

~~~***~~~

It was another of those days when things just seemed to pile up in front of Ray. He desperately needed a break, so when Frank announced that he needed to go and see Travis, it was as good an excuse as any to get out of the office for a few hours. Frank had a tendency to not come back to the office, but they had a board meeting to prepare for. This time, Ray was determined, he would not be the only one beside Gerard to present something just because Ray was the only one who'd actually prepared slides.

Ray was only affirmed when Mikey got up, too, and said, "I'll come with you. I haven't seen Pete in a while."

Which was how Ray found himself chauffeuring both Frank and Mikey to Pete's tattoo parlour.

And there he met Ian.

~~~***~~~

"So what did you have in mind?" Pete asked. "Another bird?"

"A tree of sorts," Ian said.

Pete cocked his head. "Similar style to the bird?"

"Yeah," Ian said. "I figured—"

The door to the shop opened and fell closed. "Hi, Pete," said the least excited voice Ian'd heard in a while. It reminded him of Ryan, a little bit.

"Mikey!"

A friend, Ian thought. Then he looked at Pete's face and corrected it to "boyfriend". Mikey seemed amused, somehow, although he wasn't smiling, not exactly.

Mikey was accompanied by two guys. The shorter one was of Ian's height and covered in tattoos. The taller one was hot, with a shock of wild hair that reminded Ian of one of his own bad hair days.

"What are you doing here, Frank?" Pete asked. And, yep, he was holding Mikey's hand.

"I need a touch-up," Tattoo Guy—apparently Frank—said. "Ray's just here to supervise."

"For a moment, I thought I was going to get to tattoo your virgin skin," Travis drawled from the back door. "All that skin and no marks."

Frank giggled. "You haven't seen Ray after he's gotten laid."

Travis grinned and Ray blushed slightly. "Just because I'm not into pain—"

"I doubt that," Frank said. "I saw those bite marks."

"Shut up," Ray said.

"Lemme just finish up with Ian and I'll be with you in a sec," Pete said. "So, Ian, is next week good enough for you for that design?"

Ian shrugged. "Sure." Pete knew just as well as Ian that Ian had to save up to get that tattoo. There were drawbacks to being on your own, Ian thought. But then he remembered the last days of the band, the fights and quarrels, and no, he really didn't want that, either.

"See, even that tiny boy is more courageous than you," Frank said. "First tattoo?"

"Fourth," Ian said and shrugged his shirt off to show off his bird. Frank immediately bounded over and took a look.

Ray, Ian noticed, pretended not to look, but his eyes kept returning to Ian's chest. Ian smiled broadly at Ray. He enjoyed being looked at.

"I just don't like needles," Ray said. He was staring at Ian's bird, though, like he thought it might come to life any moment now.

Ian couldn't help himself—he stretched out his arm to showcase the tattoo there. Ray's eyes followed the line of Ian's arm. Ian grinned. This could be interesting.

His phone rang and Ian made a show of pulling it out of his jeans pocket. It was Mary-Ann, asking for another guitar lesson before her middle school talent show, and Ian really couldn't turn her down. For one thing, Ian couldn't say no to ten-year-olds with serious brown eyes and amazing guitar skills; for another, he could really use the money.

By the time Ian was done with his phone call, everyone had moved on—Frank was with Travie, both chattering over the sound of the needle, Mikey was talking with Pete, and Ray was still pretending to not look at Ian. Ian spared him a smile and then turned to Pete. "I gotta go, P."

"Come back next week," Pete said. He looked expectantly at Ray, but Ray looked away. "Give me a call when you drop by, okay?"

"Sure," Ian said. He put his shirt back on and glanced one last time at Ray before he left. "Bye, Ray."

Ray visibly startled. "Goodbye," he said.

Ian wished he could stay longer, but he had exactly 30 minutes to get to the Guitar Center where he usually gave lessons, and in L.A. traffic, he needed all the head start he could get.

~~~***~~~

"I still don't get why you didn't give him your number," Frank said. Ray was ready to throttle him. "He was hot."

"He was hot for Ray," Mikey added. Ray hated them both.

"Who's hot for Ray?" Gerard peered out of his office.

"Nobody," Ray said.

"A pretty young thing at Pete's caught our Ray's eye," Frank said. "Love is in the air."

Ray decided to just leave them to it and get back to work. There were slides to be made.

Later, Gerard leaned against his doorjamb just as Ray started to shut down his computer. "So why didn't you give the kid your number?"

Three hours of fighting with Powerpoint had worn Ray down, so he just sighed. "I don't have the time to date," he said. "It's better this way."

Gerard gave Ray that look Ray absolutely hated. So Gerard had Lindsey and Mikey had Pete and Frank had Jamia. That didn't mean that Ray also needed someone. He was perfectly happy being single. But somehow his friends were convinced that Ray was slowly wasting away for want of love. They were going to start match-making soon, Ray knew it.

"Well, you know your needs best," Gerard said. "As long as you're happy."

"I am," Ray said.

The problem was that Ray might have been a bit optimistic. It was true that he wasn't truly unhappy, but the fucking domesticity all of his closest friends exhibited was difficult to take sometimes.

~~~***~~~

Due to a strain of luck hitherto never experienced before, Ray actually manages to get out of the office by 5 p.m.

Well, his office at least. It's nearly impossible to sneak by his friends' offices unnoticed, though.

"Did he threaten to make you sleep on the porch?" Gerard says. "Again, I mean?"

If Ray didn't love his friends so much, he would hate their fucking guts. But as it is, it's Ian and Ray's anniversary, Ray's going to get laid tonight, and he's not stuck in the office until 7 o'clock. He couldn't be in a bad mood if he tried.

"No," Ray lies cheerfully. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Think of me tonight," Frank yells down the hall. "I want to be your best man when you marry!"

"I'd rather not think of you," Ray yells back. "I want to have sex tonight, thank you very much."

Frank shouts someone indecipherable. Ray thinks he'd rather not know.

"I deserve to be your best man, though," Mikey says. "I was the one who got you Ian's phone number."

Ray sighs loudly and leaves before his friends really do destroy his good mood.

~~~***~~~

Ian met Mikey in the Guitar Center. Besides giving him a place to hold his lessons that wasn't either his apartment (messy) or his students' homes, it paid well. Okay, not particularly well, but Ian didn't have that many guitar students yet.

"Hi," Ian said, when Mikey came in to buy new strings for his bass. "You're a friend of Pete's."

"Yes," Mikey said. "But I guess you're more interested in knowing that I'm also a friend of Ray."

"Tall, awesome hair, great thighs?" Ian asked.

Mikey grinned. "Gimme your phone," he said.

~~~***~~~

An unknown number was calling Ray, but that wasn't unusual. They had just signed a new band and Ray only had the lead singer's number. "Sing It Records, Ray Toro speaking," he said, while clicking on a new email.

"Hi." Ray didn't recognise the voice, although it seemed familiar. "This is Ian. Mikey gave me your number."

"Ian," Ray repeated slowly. Was there an Ian in Flames Alive or—a memory flashed up, a shirtless guy with a bird tattoo and—"Pete's Ian?" Ray asked, trying to keep his voice level.

Ian laughed. "I'm not Pete's, but we met in his shop."

Ray took a deep breath. "Hi, then," he said.

"I met Mikey the other day," Ian said, "and he told me to call you."

"Well, you just did," Ray said.

"And he said you're in desperate need of a date."

"Oh, god," Ray said.

"Tomorrow at 8 p.m. work for you?"

"Uh, what?" Ray was entirely lost. "How do you go from saying hi to agreeing on a date?"

"Because it doesn't look like you're gonna make a move," Ian said. "So, 8.pm.?"

"Okay," Ray said.

"Awesome! Come pick me up at 8 p.m., I'll take care of the rest." Ian rattled off an address Ray had the mind to copy down, and then he hung up.

Ray stared at the address and wondered what the fuck had just happened to him.

~~~***~~~

The date went well. The second date went even better. After the tenth date, Frank started talking about being the best man.

~~~***~~~

The apartment's suspiciously quiet when Ray comes home. He puts down his keys and phone, but neither Ian nor Skywalker appear. It's too early for Ian to be out walking Skywalker.

Ray starts to walk to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. It's their favourite Thai take-out guy, handing over a huge bag of food. "Thanks," Ray says and pays him.

Just as Thai guy is leaving, Ian comes back in his car. "Sorry," he says. "Brendon offered to dog-sit Skywalker tonight and you know how Brendon gets."

For a moment, Ray considers the fact that whatever Ian's planned requires them to be entirely alone. He suppresses a shiver. Then he realises what else Ian said and groans. "Brendon's going to turn up tomorrow with a pink 'You got laid!' cake, isn't he?" Ray says.

Ian grins. "Come on, let's eat."

Because Ian is a stubborn little motherfucker, he won't tell Ray about the mysterious package that's sitting on their kitchen counter. He's also a fast little motherfucker and grabs the package before Ray's even gotten up after they finish eating.

"I thought it was time for the surprise now," Ray says.

"Not quite yet," Ian says. He reaches for Ray and kisses him softly. "I have a plan," Ian whispers, as he kisses along Ray's jaw. "Don't spoil it."

Ray presses Ian against their kitchen counter, arms bracketing him in. "And what's the first step of your plan?" He raises a hand and tugs a little on Ian's hair, getting Ian to bare his throat. He sucks at the skin just underneath Ian's ear.

Ian moans quietly. "You naked on the bed," he says. "That's where we start."

"Okay, I can deal with that."

Ian puts the package down on their night table and takes off his clothes. Ray watches him, the easy grace with which Ian moves, and almost absentmindedly undoes his shirt.

"God, you're so slow," Ian says and reaches out for Ray.

"But we have all night," Ray says. Ian's nimbly unbuckling Ray's belt. "We can take our time."

"Yes, when we're naked," Ian says.

"You've been hanging out too much with Brendon," Ray says.

"Shut up, Brendon is where I get my best ideas from." Ian tugs Ray's pants down and sinks down to his knees. He noses Ray's boxer shorts, making him whimper.

"Can we stop talking about Brendon?" Ray says. "Or do I have to write him a thank you card?"

Ian once made Ray write a thank you card to Spencer for giving Ian the idea with the lace scarves. Ray thinks he's never quite recovered. Spencer Smith is one kinky motherfucker, and Brendon's not any better.

Ian laughs. "That's for you to decide later," he says. "But relax. It's not even that kinky."

"Okay," Ray says. He steps out of his shorts.

"On the bed," Ian says. "On your stomach."

Ray lies down and by now it's easy for him to close his eyes and relax. It's taken him a while to get to his part, to trust Ian enough to just let go.

He hears Ian open the package, but doesn't open his eyes. He's waited this long, and from the sounds of it, he's going to know in a few seconds what exactly his surprise is.

Ian settles on Ray's legs, bending over Ray's back. "Ready?"

Ray nods. But at the first brush of something cold and liquid against his back, he yelps. "What is that?"

Ian laughs. "Don't worry, it's just paint."

Ray blinks and looks over his shoulder. Ian brandishes the brush in front of Ray's face. "Body paint," Ian says. "Tonight I get to mark you."

Ray looks at the brush. The paint's deep red and— "Mark me?"

Ian strokes his fingers over Ray's side. "Think of it as a temporary tattoo," he says. "Tonight you're completely mine."

Ray wants to say that he's Ian's every day of the week, but then Ian pushes against his shoulder. "Lie back down, I need to concentrate on this."

It's been a long time since Ray was this naked for such a long time without any sex. But Ian's adamant and Ray tries to guess what Ian's painting from the brush strokes. The brush is soft, but also a little bit scratchy, and after a while Ray's skin starts tingling, little bursts of sensations whenever Ian starts at a new spot. The paint is cool, almost soothing, but it dries quickly.

Ray carefully catalogues each sensation. For the moment, he's content to just lie here. His cock is getting hard slowly, like a itch waiting to be scratched.

Ian moves to Ray's arms and covers them in swirls and straight lines, curves and circles. His cock drags over Ray's ass when Ian moves, hard and already leaking.

"Now you're done," Ian says softly after a while.

"Tell me," Ray says.

"This is a tree," Ian says and runs one finger over Ray's spine. "These are the branches..." His fingers spreading over Ray's shoulder blades. "And these are birds and—"

"To match yours?" Ray asks almost inaudibly. He remembers the tree Ian got when they first got together. He watched Ian while Travis tattooed him, and Ian's always called that tree his "Ray tattoo".

Ian stills for a moment. "Yes," he says, and he sounds a bit hoarse. "And this—"

But Ray has enough. He turns around, almost throwing Ian off him, but he grabs Ian's arm and pulls him firmly on top of himself.

"You're smearing everything on the sheets," Ian says.

"Fuck the sheets," Ray says.

Ian laughs, but Ray shuts him up with a kiss. Ian's hands are covered in paint, and when Ian puts his hands on Ray's cheeks, he leaves streaks of colour on Ray's skin.

"You look amazing," Ian says.

"And you are amazing," Ray says. He flips them again and presses Ian down against the mattress. The paint has indeed soaked into the sheets and now it's transferring onto Ian's skin as he wriggles and writhes.

"Less talking, more action, please," Ian says.

Ray thrusts experimentally against Ian, who doesn't make him wait and spreads his legs. He reaches for the lube, but Ian shakes his head, laughing breathlessly.

"I won't last," he says. "I want it just like this right now. Later."

"We have all night," Ray whispers against Ian's skin. "Right?"

"Yeah."

Ray reaches down between them, circling both Ian's and his own cock with his hand.

"God, I love your hands," Ian moans. "Tighter, come on, faster."

Ray goes slow on purpose, taking time to flick his thumb over the tips of their cocks. Ian whimpers. Ray is delighted by him being like this, noisy and shameless, not shy of letting Ray know exactly what he likes. This is what makes it easy to be with Ian—Ray's never unsure of them.

Ian pushes his hips up. "You're not good with directions," he growls. "Come on."

Instead of going faster, Ray leans down and kisses Ian softly. Ian sighs and wraps his arms tightly around Ray's shoulders. "You're a sap," he mumbles.

"Just don't want it to be over yet," Ray says and bites down gently on Ian's shoulder. Ian bucks up and pants open-mouthed against Ray's throat.

"I love you," Ian says. "Not just your hands, I love your everything. Your stupid hair—"

"As if yours is any better," Ray says. They've had hilarious mornings when they both looked like they'd stuck their fingers into an electric outlet. "I love you, too," he says more quietly.

Ian smiles and wraps his legs tightly around Ray's waist. They kiss gently, while Ray speeds up the motion of his hand.

They're both leaking copiously now, and Ian keens quietly. "I won't last much longer," he says.

Ray adds a twist at the end, rubbing his palm over the heads of their cocks. "Gonna fuck you later," he says.

Ian groans. Ray knows that Ian loves getting fucked slowly after he's already come. Ray himself is way too sensitive, but Ian enjoys the overload of sensations, can't get enough of it.

"Later," Ian says. "Oh, my god, I need to come now."

Ray presses his mouth against Ian's temple.

"I want you to fuck me like this," Ian gasps. "I want you to hold me down and fill me and—"

Ray pants. He doesn't know where Ian gets these words from. Ray's world has entirely shrunk down to Ian and Ian only, his skin, his touch, and the only noises he can make are non-verbal.

It doesn't matter, though. Ian breaks off mid-word with a strangled cry and comes hotly all over Ray's fingers and their bellies. It sets off Ray's own orgasm.

Ray collapses on his back, his arm flung over Ian's chest.

Ian hums and wriggles around until he can wrap himself around Ray. "Happy anniversary," he says. "Nap before round two?"

Ray kisses Ian's forehead. "Happy anniversary." Ian's asleep before Ray can say anything else.