What Happens Backstage - Part 11

Ash’s POV

The roar of the stadium is deafening, but all I hear is River’s breath in my ear as he leans into me during the chorus. His hand brushes my hip, subtle enough to look accidental, hot enough to send a shiver through me. The crowd erupts.

They’ve already seen it—the new ship. Ash + River. They scream our names in the same breath now, demand us with glowing signs, paint our initials on their faces.

I flash a grin, grab River’s chin mid-song, and sing the line inches from his lips. He blushes, plays it up perfectly. On cue, I kiss him, tongue deep, messy, the cameras catching every angle. The arena shakes with noise.

On the other side of the stage, Micah and Jett flank Leo. They’re shameless, grinding against him, trading the mic back and forth as they sing, Jett licking Leo’s jaw just to hear the fans scream louder. Leo smirks like he planned it, like he’s the mastermind pulling us all like strings.

The tension is unbearable. Every move on stage feels like a dare. My fingers slide under River’s shirt when the lights dim. Micah bends Leo over during a dance break, humping him through their pants while Jett blows a kiss to the cameras. The crowd eats it up, no idea how real this is.

By the time the confetti rains and the last notes echo out, we’re all hard, sweaty, trembling—not just from the performance. From holding back.

Backstage, we collapse onto couches, laughing breathlessly, shirts clinging to our bodies. Everyone’s high on adrenaline and something darker.

“Well,” Leo says, running a hand through his hair. “That was the last one.”

The room goes quiet. Last show. Last tour stop. The end of something insane. The beginning of something else.

River looks at me. His eyes burn. Before I can think, I’m kissing him again, needy, rough, pushing him back until he’s flat against the armrest. Our cocks rub through our jeans, hot and desperate.

Micah’s laugh cuts through the room. “Guess we’re not the only ones wound up.”

I glance up, and he’s already on Leo’s lap, kissing him hard, tongue down his throat, while Jett straddles them both, grinding his hips into Leo’s stomach. The three of them moan together, a mess of hands and lips.

River tugs at my shirt. “Focus on me,” he whispers, bucking his hips up. I bite his lip, stroke him through his jeans until he’s gasping.

The room fills with sound—Leo groaning as Jett sucks his neck, Micah rutting against Leo’s thigh, River whimpering my name as I shove my hand down his pants. It’s like we’re two mirrored scenes, two ships sinking together, fucking inches apart.

I drag River’s pants down, freeing his cock, dripping already. I stroke him fast, grinding my own against his thigh. He’s beautiful like this—flushed, needy, shaking. He claws at my back, moaning loud enough the others pause to watch.

Leo chuckles, breathless, lips swollen from kissing. “You’re all animals.”

Micah licks his lips, jerking himself while Jett bounces on Leo’s lap, moaning. “Takes one to know one.”

I don’t stop. River’s close, thrusting into my hand, panting my name. I kiss him deep as he cums all over his stomach, hot and messy. The sight pushes me over—I spill across his skin, mixing with his, collapsing on top of him.

Across the room, Leo roars as he empties inside Jett, while Micah strokes himself to climax, spraying over Leo’s chest. They all collapse in a heap, sweaty and laughing.

Silence hangs in the room, broken only by our ragged breaths.

Then Leo sits up, wiping his chest with a towel, eyes glinting. “Before we go our separate ways… we should do one more thing. Together.”

We all look at him.

“What thing?” I ask, heart pounding.

He smirks, cock still half-hard, dangerous. “You’ll see.”