Pleather and Jeans

Buford had always enjoyed Baljeet's pleather pants.

When they first formed The Baljeatles, Baljeet had decided that all rock 'n roll artists wore leather pants. But he couldn't afford leather, so he bought some pleather ones instead.

Buford remembers that first performance like it was yesterday; that image of a furious Baljeet shaking his hips and vocalizing into a mic, the one-size-too-small purple plastic hugging his ass, the ripped crop-top showing off his flat, smooth stomach… It was just too rare a sight to not burn it into his mind.

He admits that, even at the tender age of 11, he spent a lot of time staring at the nerd's hindquarters. He didn't necessarily know why at the time, but now that he was older, well…. Baljeet just had one really fine ass. Each cheek fit perfectly into his hands, too. If he had to choose to spend the rest of his life doing one thing and one thing only, he would have to choose touching it.

And damn that purple pleather just… Hnn.

"May I help you with something?"

Buford blinked, the unhappy tone of voice bringing him out of his fantasies. He stared at Baljeet's reflection in the mirror, then looked down at the minimal space between them.

Huh. He really needed to stop doing things while daydreaming.

"Well," Buford began, looking back up to watch Baljeet put more eyeliner on. "There's a pretty fantastic ass sitting in my hands."

Baljeet narrowed his chocolate eyes. The cap went back on his waterproof liner. "Why yes, that is something I have most definitely noticed. Is there a reason for this groping of my more personal parts?"

Buford shrugged, running his fingers up the center of the left cheek, his skin causing the plastic to squeak. "Yea," he stated, smirking when a swift grab cause Baljeet to eep. "It's a pretty fantastic ass."

Baljeet grumbled, reaching back to smack away the offending hand. "Would you cut it out? I'm trying to put on my stage make-up," he snapped, grabbing a cake of oily black make-up from the dressing room counter.

"Why are you so goddamn slow?" the brunette huffed, moving his hands to trail them up the back of Baljeet's holey crop top. "If you'd stop actin' like such a lady, we could have gotten in a good fuck before the show."

Baljeet's fingers slipped and left a huge black streak from his eyelid to his temple. "B-Buford!" he yelped, vainly attempting to shove the other male's hands from where they'd glided around to poke at his nipples. "I told you I am not going to do this here! We're in public!"

"No," Buford negated, pressing himself up against the smaller body. "We're in a private dressing room. No one's gunna come in here 'cept us."

"Or Phineas, or Ferb," Baljeet corrected, huffing when he finally got the hands off his torso. "Do you know how terrible it would be to get caught doing something like that in here? I think I would die!"

Buford grumbled. "Fine." He reluctantly backed off, but not without giving the other boy's rear a good smack. Baljeet nearly shrieked, and, once again, smeared his black make up across one side of his face. Buford smirked when Baljeet's brown cheeks flushed a bright red. "Oh? Don't tell me you liked that?"

The Indian quickly began distracting himself with the removal of the make-up. "N-no! Why would I like something like that? It hurt!" he defended quickly, using is make-up remover pad to violently scrub away the mark.

"You totally liked that!" Buford laughed, striding back over to the other male to give the plump body-part another firm whap of his palm. Baljeet yelped. The rush of blood to his face from his pounding heart made him bite his lips and try and hid. Unfortunately, he was in front of a mirror, and only succeeded in hunching over the counter.

The bully quickly seized the male by the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder with little effort. "Oh, you are so getting put over my knee."

"What!" Baljeet gasped, flailing his limbs and pushing on anything he could in an attempt to get away. "Buford! Put me down! I have to be ready to perform!"

"All liars must receive punishment for their actions before their bands can perform a proper, honest rock set," Buford stated matter-of-factly. He pulled Baljeet back over his shoulder as he sat down on the couch across from the make-up mirrors, then splayed him out over his right knee.

The black-haired male could have sworn his heart was about to leap from his ribcage and run away cackling. "God dammit! If I am not ready to go on in – EEP!"

Buford chuckled at the response to the first slap, and had to use his left hand to hold a squirming Baljeet in place. "I'm tempted to take your pants off," he stated bluntly, pushing two of his fingers across the shiny material. "This shit doesn't feel as good as your skin."

Baljeet, though already thoroughly excited at the idea of doing something naughty in an unlocked dressing room in the back of an old 'club', tried to fight back so as to keep some hold on his dignity. "I do not understand why you think - !" He gasped when the too-tight piece of clothing was pulled off his hips and down to his knees, taking his skimpy undergarments along for the ride. "Hey!"

"Ahh. Now this is what I like to feel," Buford hummed, running his hand across the planes of his captive's smooth cheeks. After a few moments, he pulled his arm back.

Smack!

Baljeet bit into his bottom lip and tried to muffle the whimper that escaped with his hands. His brows furrowed in shame when Buford's palm connected with his rear again.

How can this feel good?

Buford's eyes lit up when Baljeet cried out after the next contact. He laughed gently when the male tightened his hands over his mouth in attempt to drown out the moan.

"Damn, 'Jeet," Buford growled, leaning over to peer at the Indian. He gave the soft skin under his fingers a loving pet. "Why didn't ya tell me you're so kinky?"

"I-I am not!" Baljeet protested, too embarrassed to look back at his captor.

Buford gave Baljeet yet another merciless spank. "The more you lie the more punishment you'll get~" he purred, patting the reddening lumps a few times.

Baljeet didn't want to admit that the threat turned him on even more.

The brunette was very aware of the hard anatomy rubbing against his thigh. It's not like Baljeet had the means to hide it; he was pantsless and draped over his knees. The bully also knew the time left before they'd be called on stage was limited, but unfortunately Baljeet would probably be upset with him whether or not he let him come before the places call. If he's not upset about having to perform in tight pants and with an erection, he'd be upset about Buford getting him off in the dressing room.

Before he went any further, he had to think of the consequences.

If he teased Baljeet and made him go on stage turned on, Baljeet would probably refuse to talk to him tonight.

If he relieved him now, Baljeet would probably scold him, and when they went home later he would probably let himself be coaxed into bed for some proper sex.

Buford groaned in the back of his throat.

This was the part about Baljeet's sexual side that he loved, that moment when he stopped caring and just started encouraging Buford's advances. It was usually a pretty drastic change in a short amount of time, which to some might have seemed awkward, but the bully rather liked it.

Although, Buford had never seen the nerd try and get himself off via frottage, and especially not using Buford's own leg.

"Y-your jeans f-feel really good…" Baljeet mumbled through bitten lips, half-strangled back pants and whines escaping his throat.

…... Buford doesn't really remember many details after that, just that Baljeet was being so loud he had to gag him, and that the ditch-decision to jump his boyfriend was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

HAHA THIS IS SO INAPPROPRIATE~

This drabble is dedicated to CorieChan~~ You fabulous bitch you.