What Happens Backstage - Epilogue

River's POV

It’s been a month since that last night—the one where we left it all on the floor, sweat, cum, moans, every last drop of tension spilled between us. I don’t regret it. None of us do. It wasn’t love, not for all of us—it was release. A final act of being tangled together, five boys who lived too close for too long, who knew every inch of each other’s bodies and secrets.

The band’s on pause. Maybe forever, maybe not. Leo, Micah, Jett—they’re good. Cordial, polite when we text, the occasional inside joke dropped in the group chat. But they were never really a throuple. Just fuck buddies who burned too hot for too long. They’ve gone their separate ways, chasing their own things.

Ash and I… we didn’t separate. We couldn’t. That night broke something open, and I realized the thing I wanted most wasn’t the crowd, or the stage, or the fanart of us—it was him. Ash, sweaty and laughing against my chest, calling me his in a whisper only I heard.

Now we’re on vacation, away from the chaos, sunburnt and happy in some hotel room that smells faintly of saltwater and sex. And we’re not kissing for the cameras anymore. We’re posting pictures of us tangled in bed sheets, of him kissing my cheek at breakfast, of our hands intertwined on the balcony. Not for fan service, not for a trend. For us. Because I want everyone to know this is real.

The sheets are already half off the bed, our clothes in a pile on the floor. Ash straddles me, cock hard and dripping onto my stomach, his lips swollen from kissing me raw. His hair sticks to his forehead, and he laughs when I grab his hips and grind him down.

“Still jealous?” he teases, biting my lip.

“Not anymore,” I growl, bucking up into him. “You’re mine now.”

He moans when I slide into him, slow, stretching him open until he gasps, his nails digging into my chest. Inch by inch until I’m buried inside, both of us panting, foreheads pressed together.

I hold his hips, guiding him as he rocks forward, taking me deeper. He throws his head back, mouth open, throat exposed, a line of sweat running down his neck. My hands roam his body, stroking his chest, tugging his nipples until he cries out.

“Fuck, River,” he pants, bouncing harder on me, his cock slapping wet against his stomach. Precum drips onto me, sticky trails across my abs. I grab him, fist pumping his cock as I thrust up into him, and he’s a mess already—moaning, begging, grinding down like he needs more.

I flip us quick, pressing him to the mattress, my cock still buried inside him. His legs wrap around my waist, heels digging into my back, dragging me deeper. I fuck him slow at first, savoring it, watching his face twist and his lips tremble every time I hit that spot. Then faster, rougher, the bed creaking, our skin slapping together.

He claws at me, pulls me down to kiss him—sloppy, hungry kisses full of spit and teeth. He moans into my mouth when I slam harder, his whole body jerking under me.

“Harder,” he begs. “Don’t stop—River, don’t fucking stop.”

I don’t. I grab his wrists, pin them above his head, and pound into him, his cock trapped between our stomachs, leaking across our skin. Every thrust makes him whimper my name, his voice cracking.

“Cum for me,” I whisper against his ear. “Make a mess on me.”

He does—his body tenses, his cock spurts thick white ropes across my chest, his stomach, even up to his neck. He cries out, shaking, still clenching around me so tight I lose control.

I bury myself deep and cum inside him, grinding through it, filling him until it leaks around me. I fuck it into him, groaning, both of us drenched in sweat and cum, bodies glued together.

We collapse, sticky and panting, his chest pressed to mine, my cock still pulsing inside him. He kisses me softer now, lazy and sweet, tongue barely flicking mine.

“Think we’ll ever get back together?” he whispers, voice husky, eyes half-lidded.

“The band?” I ask.

He nods, smiling weakly.

I stroke his hair, still inside him, still feeling him twitch around me. “Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. Right now… it’s just us.”

He smiles wider, eyes closing, and I know he believes me. The memories of the five of us will never fade—the kisses, the fights, the music, the nights where we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. But the future? The future is me and Ash.

And as he falls asleep on my chest, still full of me, I know that’s enough.

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