Fic: Freeze

Title: Freeze
Pairing: Alan/Dave
Rating: NC-17
Era: 1984
Beta: milsanneboone


Dave was rummaging through his luggage in a search for an appropriate outfit for the night, which, ironically, should’ve been pyjamas. Preferably warm ones. He had found a few pairs of tight jeans and leather trousers, but he’d flinched at the mere thought of sleeping in them.

He was becoming more and more frustrated as he got closer to the bottom of his suitcase. In fact, he was fully aware that there were no pyjamas to find – he hadn’t bought a pair in his entire life – but he was looking for at least some substitute. The night called for special tactics.

The gig hadn’t been particularly good, and there had been little to celebrate, so they’d decided to pass on the party. They came back to the hotel, only to find out that the heating system was broken and wouldn’t be fixed until the next day, which – in a cold nordic climate – wasn’t a promise of a very cosy night. The receptionist could only offer them an apologetic smile and extra blankets, to their utter dismay, and by that point they’d been too tired to even think of moving to another hotel. They’d obediently took the blankets, and trouped up to their cold, unwelcoming rooms.

Dave cursed under his breath, regretting that he hadn’t let his mum pack the suitcase. She would have thought of damn pyjamas, for sure.

Finally, he felt thick soft cotton under his fingertips, and pulled it out with a triumphant smile. Well, maybe the old ketchup stain right at the crotch wasn’t particularly appealing, but beside that, the sweatpants were exactly what he needed. That, and a couple of little vodka bottles from mini bar. He drank their contents quickly and went to bed, hoping that the alcohol would warm him up quickly.

Half an hour later, Dave’s hands and feet were still ice-cold, and he could feel the steely touch of the sheets with every restless turn. As the frustration grew steadily with each and every passing minute, an idea started to form in his head. When the clock on the wall showed 3 am and Dave still hadn’t slept a wink, the idea turned into a decision. He got up and left his room, heading for the far end of corridor. Alan’s room.

Apparently Alan also hadn’t packed his pyjamas either, because when he opened the door, he was wearing uncomfortably tight trousers and a long-sleeved shirt. He looked tired and not exactly unlike someone pulled out from the depths of sleep. The sheets and blankets on the bed were rumpled, and indicated his obvious attempt to get some rest.

“What’s the problem, Dave?” he asked dryly.

“It’s fucking freezing, Al” – Dave sneaked into the room, shivering.

“No kidding” – Alan rolled his eyes. “And what am I supposed to do about it? I’m not going to give you my blanket, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No… I just thought I could sleep in your room tonight” – said Dave casually.

Alan’s jaw dropped. “Are you out of your mind?” he asked incredulously. “What makes you think that my room is any warmer than yours?”

Now it was Dave’s turn to shoot a disbelieving look at his bandmate.

“Don’t be daft, Charlie. I know it’s cold in here too. I just remembered this documentary I watched on TV last week – y’know, about those guys lost in the mountains – and it said that when it’s cold, people should stay close to each other and share their body heat. Y’know, to avoid hypothermia and frostbite and all that…”

“There’s no frost here, Dave” – interrupted Alan impatiently. “It’s only a little colder than usual. You’ll live.”

“You’re heartless…” – said Dave with exasperation. “We’re having like, what, another three gigs this week? And they won’t get any better if I end up with the bloody flu. If any of us do, for that matter. How are you going to wipe your snot whilst playing your precious solos, huh?”

“I’ll get Fletch to wipe my nose on stage” – Alan muttered. “He doesn’t have much else to do.”

Dave grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“So it’s decided, I’m staying here. We can’t overload poor Fletch with work, can we?”

He walked to Alan’s bed, unceremoniously fluffed the pillows and made a show of making himself comfortable. Then, he looked at Alan expectantly.

“Are you coming or what? And turn off the light, please.”

Alan, who had been watching Dave in stunned silence, shook himself out of the stupor. “You’re one cheeky bastard, Gahan” he said, flicking the lights off. “Not to mention pushy.”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way” – came Dave’s reply from the darkness. “Now stop bitching and come to bed. I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep tonight”.

Alan sighed and walked to the bed. He laid down, turning his back to Dave, and in a second found himself embraced by the strong arm of his uninvited guest. He felt Dave’s cold nose buried in the nape of his neck, and stirred uncomfortably. Ironically, it only resulted in Dave tightening his embrace.

“Good night, Charlie” – whispered Dave, causing the goosebumps to rise over Alan’s neck.

“Good night” – he mumbled in response, wondering if he’d get any sleep, with Dave on his back – literally.



* * *



Dave woke up in the morning, half-frozen. He looked around to identify the source of his misery, and found it snoring on the other end of the bed.

During the night Alan had somehow managed to escape from Dave’s tight embrace and rolled away, together with all of the blankets. He was buried under the covers up to his nose, and Dave only just resisted the urge to pinch it. Instead, he moved closer to Alan and sneaked under the blankets, putting his arm around his sleeping friend. He drifted off again, only to be woken up ten minutes later by Alan stirring in his arms. The cuddling time was over.

“Good morning, Charlie” – said Dave, reluctantly letting go of Alan’s chest.

“…Mmm… morning” – Alan stretched his long limbs and rubbed his eyes. “How did you enjoy my body heat?” – he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm despite the wide yawn which followed the words.

“Yeah great, ta very much, thanks for sharing” – said Dave unmoved. “Although you really should put on some weight, mate. You got me all bruised, you bony sod.”

“-Only a small price for avoiding frostbite, Dave” said Alan innocently. “I daren’t imagine what might’ve happened if you’d stayed in your own room…”

“Aww, that’s sweet of you, Charlie” – Dave ignored the obvious mockery in his voice. “But enough with the pillow talk – we should get up. We’re supposed to be leaving this polar circle at 9, thank fuck!”

Neither of them moved.

“Charlie…?”

“Yeah…?”

“I said we should get up.”

“I heard. Feel free to do so.”

“Oh, come on Charlie… You could at least call room service and get us some coffee first…”

“Yeah, and some fucking strawberries and champagne while I’m at it” – muttered Alan, as he got up and furiously threw the blankets off the bed.

Dave felt compelled to whine about Alan’s brutal treatment, but suddenly he caught sight of his hair- and immediately fell into a hysterical fit of laughter.

Alan was positively baffled, seeing his bandmate rolling on the bed and giggling insanely. Surely that was not a symptom of hypothermia?

“Charlie…” – Dave managed to catch his breath. “Just look at your hair… It’s…” – another fit of laughter interrupted his speech.

“What’s wrong with my fucking hair?” – asked Alan, irritated. He turned to look in the mirror – and froze. His new hairspray must have been really extreme stuff… and he hadn’t had even had a shower the previous night. It had been too cold.

Now, his hair looked like a bird’s nest after a tornado.

Dave had stopped laughing by now, and was examining Alan’s hair curiously.

 “I wonder if you’ll ever be able to make it look normal again” – he said. “Or maybe you’ll have to shave it off. Completely.”

Alan gave him a murderous look, but Dave didn’t notice it, his complete attention still on Al’s hair.

“It wouldn’t help the band’s image, though. I think we’ll have to replace you until your hair grows back… Or we’ll get you a posh wig – although you’d have to be extra cautious with girls, you can’t get too excited, y’know, so it doesn’t fall off your head…” – Dave was clearly enjoying himself, unaware of Alan’s furious state. “And be careful with calling room service in the morning, someone could see you before you put your wig on… we wouldn’t want it in the newspapers…” Struck by a sudden idea, Dave started to laugh again.

“Oh, Charlie…” he gasped. “Now I understand why you didn’t want me to spend the night here. You didn’t want me to see your hair in all its morning glory!”

Alan snapped.

“No, Dave” – he said angrily. “I just didn’t want to see your dick in its morning glory – and wake up feeling it pressed into my goddamn back!”

He marched into the bathroom and slammed the door, leaving Dave startled by his outburst.

It took Dave a while to come to his senses.Mental note to myself, he thought, never tease Charlie in the morning. Especially not about his hair.

He could hear the low noise of the shower, and hoped that water and shampoo would be enough to rinse that devilish stuff from Alan’s hair. He laid back on the bed and tucked a pillow under his head so he’d be able to watch the bathroom door, stifling a giggle as he waited for him to emerge.

Five minutes later, and Dave was bored. The stuff must have been like cement, and he wondered if there was enough shampoo in this entire hotel to dislodge the glue from Alan’s hair. His thoughts began to wander, and he glanced down at his crotch, a flash of red visible in the corner of his eye startling him.

Oh… so… Charlie was right.

The red stain on Dave’s pants was even more visible now, proudly uplifted by his morning erection. The soft cotton fabric did little to conceal it.

May as well do something about that while I’m waiting, I suppose…

Dave sighed and shifted, pushing the sweatpants down, just enough to expose the hard flesh. Cold air hit his skin, but it didn’t cause the erection to go away. Dave closed his eyes and gripped his cock firmly, his other hand reaching under the shirt, touching his nipples. He knew he only had a few minutes to take care of his hard-on before Charlie came back from the shower, and that thought, surprisingly, was more of a turn on than he cared to admit.

Poor bastard, I hope he can get that crap out of his hair. He’d be unbearable if he really did have to shave it off… and he’d blame me for it somehow. He’ll probably never let me spend another night in his room anyway. It’s a shame… it was so nice… really nice…

Dave’s thoughts trailed off to the image of Alan, sleeping peacefully in his arms, the warmth radiating from his skin, the feeling of his slender body pressed against his own… Dave moaned and sped up the movements of his hand. He was sweating now, and could smell his own arousal mixed with an inexplicable scent of freshness… A scent that hadn’t been there before…

Dave’s eyes sprang open, and there was Alan, who had just walked out of the bathroom and was staring at him wide-eyed. He was half-naked, water dripping from his wet hair, looking all clean and strangely vulnerable…

-and so fucking hot.

“Charlie…” gasped Dave. And he came.

He was panting heavily, coming down from the high of his orgasm, trying to come to terms with the contradicting feelings that had attacked his senses. He was spent – satisfied – embarrassed – and he wanted more.

He was looking at Alan like he’d been hypnotized, and was rewarded with a gaze of similar intensity. They locked eyes – then Alan blinked and shook his head, droplets of water sprinkling around.

“You’d better go back to your room, Dave” – he said darkly. “I bet you’re warm enough now.”

Dave bit his lip and pulled on his pants with trembling hands. He knew he should have been mortified by the whole situation, but all he felt was a strange sense of disappointment. He shuffled his feet, intending to leave the room, and made the fatal mistake of taking another look at Alan.

Alan was standing motionless, hands on his slim, towel-clad hips, wet skin glistening in the pale morning light. He didn’t seem to mind the cold air any more, and was looking at Dave intensely, narrowing his eyes. It made him look downright sultry.

Dave’s rationale was gone in a second. He approached Alan in three long strides and stopped mere inches from his naked chest. Alan stepped back until he hit the wall.

“I can’t go to my room, Charlie” – whispered Dave. “I’m not done with you yet.” He dropped to his knees, snatching away the towel covering Alan’s body in one swift move, and looked up at his friend’s face.

“D…Dave, stop…” – said Alan uncertainly.

“Stop? I haven’t even started!” – Dave smirked, and gently stroked Alan’s half hard cock. It twitched under his touch. Dave gripped it more firmly, enjoying the feeling of Al’s obvious arousal, and licked a path from his balls up to the head of his cock.

Alan banged his head against the wall and moaned.

“Do you want me stop now, Charlie? – asked Dave in a hot whisper. “Tell me…” – he gave Al another teasing lick, “and I’ll stop…”

“N…nno, Dave… please…” – came Alan’s stuttered response.

Dave grinned and wrapped his lips around the head of Alan’s cock, sucking it gently. He gripped the base of it with his one hand, clutching at Al’s hip with the other, steadying himself. When he got more accustomed to girth of Alan’s erection, he slowly dived further, being careful not to choke. It was a new sensation for him, feeling the hot, hard flesh, sliding in and out of his mouth, tasting the drops of precum on his tongue. He felt controlled and in control, all at the same time. He knew he was by no means a pro at giving head – in fact, this was his first time – but Alan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, judging by his guttural moans and the erratic movement of his hips.

Alan’s hand wandered to Dave’s head, carressing and encouraging him to take him deeper. He touched Dave’s hollowed cheek and traced a line to the corner of his lips, where he could feel his own cock moving in and out of his hot, wet mouth. Dave moaned and tilted his head up, locking his eyes with Alan’s as cold drops of water from Alan’s hair landed on his cheeks. He closed his eyes in pleasure, and moaned around his cock throatily.

Suddenly Alan gripped Dave’s hair tightly.

“Dave…” he gasped. “I’m going to come…”

But Dave didn’t allow him to pull out. He was too far gone to care. Plus, he was determined to take everything Al could give him. He felt Alan’s cock twitching in his mouth, and then suddenly, hot, sticky jets of come hitting his throat. It was like nothing else he had ever experienced. It made him feel used and satisfied – and extremely horny.

Dave moaned and let Al’s softening cock slip out of his mouth. He gave it one more lick, and gasped in surprise as Alan’s eyes began to roll back in his head.

“Shit, Charlie! I’ve got you!’’ Dave exclaimed, holding onto Alan’s hips and lowering him to the floor as gently as he could. Alan was panting heavily, still light-headed from his orgasm, and Dave pressed his lips to his in a gentle kiss. Alan’s lips tasted fresh and minty, which made Dave painfully aware of the taste of come on his own tongue, and how his own body must have smelled after sleeping in unclean clothes. But Alan kissed him back, so maybe he didn’t care.

Dave broke the kiss only to get rid of his shirt so he could feel the skin of Alan’s naked chest against his own. In the heat of the moment, he hadn’t realised that he had been subconsciously humping Al’s thigh, desperately trying to get some friction for his own neglected cock. Alan noticed it though.

“Dave, wait…” – he panted. “Please, let me…”

He slid his hand down, past the waistband of Dave’s pants, and pulled out his erection. Feeling long fingers wrapped around his already leaking cock, Dave moaned, only to be silenced by another passionate kiss. Alan’s dexterous hands and skilful tongue were inflicting all kinds of pleasure on Dave’s hot skin, setting his whole body on fire with his mere touch. He could only thrash around on the floor and moan, incoherent and on the verge of orgasm.

“Look at me, Dave…” – whispered Alan hoarsely, speeding up his movements.

Dave opened his eyes- and it took only few more strokes to bring him to his release.

They were laying on the floor, both utterly spent and speechless, until the coldness of the morning air finally brought Dave back to reality.

He hadn’t planned for any of this to happen when he’d gone to Alan’s room last night. If he had been completely honest with himself, he would have admitted that maybe, he’d fantasised about his handsome bandmate, once or twice… But he’d never expected that those fantasies would become a reality.

And yet here he was, lying at Alan’s side in a post-orgasmic glow, which he would’ve been absolutely content with, if it hadn’t been for a nagging feeling that maybe Alan hadn’t been equally pleased by the turn of events. After all, Dave knew nothing of his fantasies.

Usually Dave didn’t have a problem with vocalising his thoughts. This time, however, he couldn’t find the right words. And some words were inevitable. After all, they couldn’t just stay in silence for the rest of their lives and pretend nothing had happened.

After some deliberation, he opted for the easiest route.

“Are you OK, Charlie?” – he asked tentatively, lifting himself up on his elbow.

“Yeah, as you see” – said Alan, stretching his arms and sitting up. “Thank god I managed to get this fucking stuff out of my hair. I only hope it wasn’t radioactive.” He touched his hair and tugged on it carefully, as if he’d wanted to try its strength.

“Oh… uhm… that’s great but… I wasn’t actually asking about your hair, Al…” – said Dave uncertainly. “I was thinking… are you OK with… with this…?”

God, it’s more painful than pulling teeth, thought Dave and let out an exasperated sigh. Is he really fine with this or is he just playing dumb?

Alan turned his head to Dave and arched an elegant eyebrow.

“Oh, this? you mean – you, coming here uninvited in the middle of the night, crashing my bed, stealing my pillow, mocking my hair and harassing the hell out of me?” he narrowed his eyes dangerously. “No, I’m not OK with that!”

Dave dropped his gaze to the floor, feeling utterly devastated.

“-But, Dave…” – continued Alan with a smirk. “You were right. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”



* * *



“What took you so long, guys?” – asked Martin, obviously in a foul mood, as he met them in the hotel lobby. “We were supposed to leave this shithole an hour ago!”

“Well, Charlie had a little problem with…”

“With Dave, occupying my bathroom to wash the ketchup stain off his pants” – interrupted Alan quickly, sending a murderous glance to Dave. Dave just grinned.

“Why would you have to use Alan’s bathroom, Dave?” – asked Andy suspiciously. “You haven’t destroyed yours, have you?”

“No, I just stayed in Charlie’s room last night” – explained Dave cheerfully. “So, his bathroom was the closest one.”

“And do we want to know why you spent a night in Al’s room…?”

“Oh, apparently our primadonna can’t stand the cold” – said Alan darkly. “It spoils the vocal chords or something. And since my room was facing south, it was a bit warmer than Dave’s – which was facing north. Just a bit, though” – he added, knowing full well that only someone as dumb as Fletch could have bought that bullshit. Fortunately, he had.

“You could have told us earlier, Al! – Andy whined. “We could have changed our rooms to the southern part! It was freezing!”

“Yeah, it was so fucking cold here, I had to sleep in my clothes! And they are far too tight for that…” –  Martin moaned.

Alan gave him a sympathetic look.

“Couldn’t you just wear your pyjamas? I bet they’re as warm as normal clothes” – said Andrew.

“The problem is, Andy, I don’t have any pyjamas”.

“You… don’t have…any…?”

“No, I always sleep naked” – explained Martin patiently. “I think the whole idea of wearing clothes in bed is against human nature. Don’t you think, Charlie?” – he turned to Alan.

“Well, I wouldn’t put it so… philosophically, but you have a point. Clothes in bed make me feel constricted.”

“Dave…?”

“I hate them too, but on the nights like that… brrr! Luckily, I found my old sweatpants…”

“Yeah, luckily…” - muttered Alan almost inaudibly.

“So… you guys all sleep commando?” – asked Fletch, still a little shell-shocked. “But it’s… it’s… unhealthy!”

The three of them laughed.

“It’s not funny!” – protested Fletch.

“Don’t get too wrapped up in this, Andy” – said Martin gently. “Look on the bright side – now you know what to get us for Christmas!”



* * *



The bus took them to another city with a name they were unable to pronounce, and stopped at another hotel they’d inevitably forget the next day. The receptionist greeted them with a hesitant smile.

“My sincere apologies, gentlemen” – she said. “It seems that we’re having minor problems with our heating system, but I assure you it’s only temporary. The engineers are working on it was we speak. Please, enjoy your stay, and we’re sorry for any inconvenience.”

Alan snorted, Martin moaned loudly, and Andy looked like he was about to hyperventilate. Only Dave seemed to be unmoved by the whole situation.

“That’s OK, thank you, I’ll take our keys” – he said resolutely, before anyone could protest. He grabbed the keys and Alan’s arm, and dragged his bandmate to the lift. “I’ve seen the weather forecast, Charlie; it’ll be a very cold night” – he announced. “Do you mind if I stay in your room…?”



THE END