Work Text:
September 6th, 1970
The pub was bustling with people. Indistinct chatter, clinking of silver and glassware, and the drone of the jukebox under all the noise all plagued Roger’s ears as he sat at the bar. He sipped from a glass of whiskey, watching the bartender make other patron’s drinks and clean glasses in between each order. He slowly swivelled side to side on his bar stool, leaning his elbows on the bar. Nick, Dave, and Rick had already gone back to their flats, leaving Roger behind. They had all been out to celebrate his 27th birthday. It was fun, but without them he felt a little lonely, and a bit sad. All alone on his birthday at a bar, even if there was nothing to really be sad about. He was just slightly frustrated with himself for staying behind when he could have went home and felt a little less lonely.
He brought his glass to his lips, drinking the last bit of whiskey from the cup before calling the bartender for another. He watched as the man took his glass away, sighing to himself. He told himself this would be his last drink, and then he’d go home.
In the corner of his eye, Roger could see a man with long, blond, curly hair take the seat next to him. He quirked an eyebrow, not wanting to outright stare, but he couldn’t help but try to make out the man’s face - which proved to be quite difficult when you were trying to only use a side-eye. It was a lot of strain, and eventually he gave up on it, looking as the bartender gave him his drink and listening as the man placed his own order.
It took a few minutes, but after the other man was served his drink, curiosity got the best of Roger and he fully turned his head to get a good look. For some reason, he looked familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.
It wasn’t until the man turned his head toward Roger that he realised who it was immediately. Roger’s immediate gut instinct was to look away, but he stopped himself, settling to just stare with wide eyes as nervousness pooled in his stomach. He may have looked ridiculous, but how could he care when Robert Plant was sitting right next to him?
Robert caught his eye quite quickly, and Roger blushed and looked away like he had wanted to just a second ago. He wasn’t quick enough though, because the blond immediately started to talk to him.
“Hey, wait, aren’t you the bassist of Pink Floyd?”
Roger froze, eyes wide as he looked back to the other man. Either this actually was Robert Plant, or he was an extremely close dopplegänger. He swallowed and nodded slowly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeah – how do you… how do you know that, though?” Roger asked, stumbling over his words. He cursed himself at how much he struggled to speak - he just knew he was completely embarrassing himself.
“I’ve been to a few of your gigs,” Robert replied with a chuckle, tilting his head at Roger. “I first saw you in ‘67. It was a gig at a small bar, I think. I liked what I heard, so I’ve been trying to closely follow your band ever since.”
“You’re fucking serious?” Roger blurted out in disbelief, laughing a little as he tried to process the words coming out of Robert’s mouth. “I was about to ask you if you were the guy from Led Zeppelin before you asked me if I was the guy from Pink Floyd…” he joked, and Robert grinned in response.
“From how starstruck you seem, I don’t think you would’ve said anything at all,” he replied teasingly. “You probably would have just stared all night if I didn’t say anything, darling.”
Roger tsked as a blush rose onto his cheeks. The pet name made him cross his legs. Even more embarrassment rose in his gut, and he was afraid he might throw up because of it. “No – actually – I would have – uh – I would have eventually found the courage to say something—” he stammered, making Robert laugh. Roger’s face was red as a beet, hoping that he wasn’t laughing at him.
“Whatever you want to believe, dear. Remind me what your name is? It’s on the tip of my tongue, I’m sorry I can’t recall it.”
“Roger Waters.” He put his hand out and Robert shook it. “It’s absolutely lovely to meet you.”
“And you as well, Roger. I’m assuming you already know my name?” Robert replied, and Roger nodded with a laugh.
“Of course. How would I not?” He smiled, fully turning himself toward Robert. He took a quick look at his outfit, trying not to ogle. He wore a floral patterned button-up shirt with none of the buttons done up, and blue skinny jeans with an (unneeded, simply because of how tight his pants were), black belt that adorned a shiny silver buckle.
“My eyes are up here, Roger,” Robert said, smirking to himself. Roger’s head immediately snapped upwards, not having realised how long he was staring for. He had no excuse - his face burned red. He laughed, trying his fucking hardest to play it off.
“What? Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t- I wasn’t ogling, swear. I don’t swing that way,” he lied with a nervous chuckle.
His eyebrows raised as Robert scooted his stool closer, their knees now touching. Roger tried not to look down, keeping his eyes trained on Robert’s blue ones. Robert leaned real close, a smirk still playing on his pretty features. “I think we both know that’s a lie, no?” He whispered, and Roger felt his breath get caught in his throat. He must be high. He must be drunk. There was no fucking way that Robert fucking Plant was flirting with him right now.
He couldn’t come up with a response, just looking at Robert with wide eyes, so many emotions swirling in his stomach. Panic, embarrassment, anxiety, and lust made him shake, completely paralysed. Roger’s inability to come up with something to reply with instantly confirmed that he did, in fact, swing that way. Robert let his hands wander, pushing Roger’s legs apart, forcing him to uncross them.
“Oh my fucking god,” Roger said breathlessly, feeling like his heart might burst out of his chest. Robert grinned, tilting his head slightly.
“Don’t like it? I can stop,” he said, and Roger shook his head.
“No no no no no— just – just pinch me so I know this is real, I need to understand that I am not hallucinating right now.”
Robert laughed, nodding and pinching Roger as hard as he could on the inside of his thigh, making the bassist yelp. “Ow, fuck! I didn’t mean to actually fucking pinch me!” He said, laughing. Robert’s eyes widened and he burst into laughter along with Roger, putting his head in his hands.
“Shit, sorry,” he said through giggles, and Roger just shook his head with a grin.
As they came down from their fit of giggles, the clicking of heels against the hardwood of the bar caught both men’s attention. A hand on Roger’s shoulder made him jump, and he turned around to look at who it was. It was a woman he didn’t know, and he furrowed his brows in confusion. “May I help you?”
She spoke, but Roger didn’t pay attention to any of it. He only caught Robert’s expression out of the corner of his eye. He was staring daggers at the woman, and Roger tried to refrain from laughing. When she finished speaking, Roger was about to ask her to repeat it, but Robert quickly stepped closer, holding onto Roger’s arm and offering a very fake smile to the woman.
“Sorry, but he doesn’t have much time to get drinks with you. We have somewhere to be,” he says. She opened her mouth to respond, but Robert was already pulling Roger out of the bar by the hand. He followed wide-eyed, tilting his head at Robert.
“Wait, what? Where are we going?” He asked with a laugh once they were out of the bar, jogging a bit to keep up with Robert’s long strides. “You didn’t think this far ahead, huh? Where to now?”
Robert smirked and turned around, walking backwards for a moment. “No, I know exactly where we’re going, Roger. Don’t worry your pretty little head.” He blew a kiss at the other before turning back around, leaving Roger more confused than he was initially.
“Huh? Do you live around here or something?” He asked, but Robert didn’t respond. He just sped up, now power walking quite quickly and making Roger jog behind him.
It wasn’t more than a few blocks before they had entered the wealthy district of town, huge houses and mansions looming over the two of them on both sides of the street. Roger gawked, unable to comprehend that he was going to be taken into one of these houses.
Eventually Robert stopped in front of a gate and dropped Roger’s hand in order to fiddle with the padlock. He got it undone, and did it back up after the two of them stepped inside the gateway. Roger could only look in awe at the lavish home in front of him, and Robert flashed him a grin. He dragged him up to the front door, unlocking it and letting Roger step inside.
The bassist stopped in his tracks and took a moment to take in the room he entered, his jaw dropping. High ceilings, polished black marble floors and gold accents adorned what he could only guess was the living room. Frankly, it looked too large to be a living room, but he couldn’t find another word for it. He looked up and saw a railing where the upstairs was, and looked to the side to see the staircase that led to it. The colour scheme was dark, moody, and almost sexy in a way. A large conversation pit covered in black velvet sat in the middle of the floor, throw pillows with gold embroidery decorating them sitting neatly against the ‘walls’ of the pit. He slowly stepped toward it just to get a better look, then continued looking around.
Robert stood with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face as he watched Roger slowly wander about the room. “If you think this is divine, you must see where I’ll be actually fucking you, sweetheart.”
Roger bit his lip, turning and looking at Robert with wide eyes, who was already approaching him. Before he could get a word out, his hair was grabbed and he was being dragged by it to the new room. He squeaked, eyes wide, but he didn’t complain. He enjoyed it, a lot. Maybe Robert made a lucky guess, or maybe he was so good at reading people that he knew Roger was into this, but either way, it didn’t matter. They arrived to the room, and Robert threw the bassist onto the couch by his hair. Roger let out an involuntary moan, taking a moment to bask in that feeling before he opened his eyes and looked around.
He was on top of a red velvet couch. The ceiling was covered in red silk that was pinned in the middle of the ceiling, creating a beautifully lavish pleated look that curved upward. A crystal chandelier hung from where the silk was pinned, real candles lit in its candle holders. He stared at it for a moment before he turned his head, looking at the dark wooden floor, and then the red wallpaper, which had a fancy, French-inspired pattern on it that appeared in black. The gold accents from the living room still shined on in this room, as well as minimal black accents. The red was the main focus, and although slightly overpowering, it was almost arousing to be somewhere so lavish withs such dim lighting.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when a silk garment was thrown at him.
“Go ahead and change into that, and I’ll be right back,” Robert said with a grin, before turning on his heel and exiting the room through a door Roger hadn’t noticed yet. He assumed it was a bathroom.
Roger inspected the clothing item, and a hot blush rose to his cheeks. It was a short black robe made out of silk, and was extremely soft and smooth to the touch. He admired it for a moment before he started to completely undress himself, replacing his clothes with the robe. He felt exposed, but felt sexy at the same time. He laid across the couch on his stomach, folding his arms in front of him and resting his head on them as he watched the door Robert had disappeared behind, waiting for him to come back
It didn’t take long, thankfully. The dark wooden door opened and the singer stood there in a robe that matched Roger’s, except in red. Roger lifted his head, his eyes wide as he scanned the other, his mouth open wide. Robert walked over, a smug smile on his face. He grabbed Roger’s hair and pressed his face hard into the couch.
“You’ve got such a little staring problem, Roger,” he said, grinning. “I’m gonna have to put you in your place, huh?”
Roger moaned in response, trying his hardest to nod with the grip on his head.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, sir,” Roger replied, arching his back and not-so-subtly sticking his ass in the air. He let out a yelp when Robert smacked it.
He leaned down close to Roger’s ear, his grip tightening on his black locks. “Stop it. You look like a whore,” he said calmly, keeping his voice low. He gave Roger’s hair a small tug, causing him to moan. A shiver coursed its way up Roger’s spine, goosebumps making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He could barely comprehend what was happening to him, let alone who was doing it.
“Robert, please,” was all Roger was able to muster out, not knowing exactly what he was asking for. He just wanted – no, needed Robert inside of him. A warm feeling pooled in his gut as his dick pressed hard against velvet of the couch, begging for any sort of stimulation.
“What are you trying to ask for, sweetheart?” Robert asked in that intimidatingly sweet voice of his, resting a hand on the back of Roger’s thigh and slowly bringing it upward, sliding it under the black robe and giving Roger’s ass a small squeeze. It elicited a whine from Roger, and a tiny squeal when Robert’s hand moved again so he could gently press a finger against his hole.
“I need it,” Roger whined, chewing on his lip as he tried to press back against the digit, wanting it inside of him, but Robert just took his hand away. A frustrated noise was all he could produce.
Robert could only grin, getting on the couch behind Roger and pressing his dick against the bassist’s rear, listening to the quiet whimper that came out of his mouth. He lifted Roger’s hips slightly, keeping himself pressed against the other, basking in the feeling of Roger grinding his ass against his dick. Robert couldn’t believe he scored such a beautiful boy who made the sweetest sounds and the cutest faces. The way he acted was irresistible, and he wanted to keep him around, even after this.
He reached a hand underneath Roger, finding his cock and grabbing ahold of it. Roger started to tremble, his dick twitching in Robert’s hand. The singer slowly stroked Roger, listening to the tiny noises it caused Roger to make. He was so sensitive already, so hard he couldn’t think about anything else, and Robert loved it. He loved how Roger melted under him, under his control. He sped his movements up, paying special attention to the tip, smearing the precum that leaked from it along the whole shaft as his pace increased in small increments.
When Roger’s moans became louder and he started to thrust into Robert’s hand, all stimulation was stopped. Robert pulled his hand away and Roger let out a loud wine.
“I was so close,” he whimpered, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes as he tried to blink them away.
“I know honey, but I don’t want you to cum just yet,” Robert replied, backing up slightly. The loss of all contact made Roger more frustrated, letting out a long huff. “Turn yourself over, yeah?”
Roger grumbled the whole time, slowly turning onto his back and looking up at Robert with furrowed eyebrows and a pout. Robert could only laugh, leaning down, cupping Roger's cheeks, and kissing Roger’s forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll get better things than finishing from my hand.”
Roger rolled his eyes, and Robert only smacked his thigh in response, making the bassist whimper and stop pouting. “Okay, fine..”
Robert smiled, leaning down and gently pressing his lips against Roger’s, feeling as the other completely melted under him and gently kissed back. The singer’s hands slowly travelled from Roger’s shoulders, ghosting down his chest and sides before grabbing ahold of his hips. He untied Roger’s robe, letting his hands touch the man’s bare skin as he slowly moved kisses down Roger’s body - from his jaw, to his chest, to his stomach, before he reached where he needed to. The bassist let out a whine as a wet heat enveloped the tip of his dick, Robert gently sucking on him. His tongue toyed with Roger’s frenulum and briefly dipped into the slit before he took more into his mouth. Roger groaned, arching his back and reaching down to grab onto Robert’s gorgeous hair that bounced as his head bobbed up and down.
Unexpectedly, Robert took it further, and all Roger could do was gasp, and use both hands to hold onto the mess of blond hair for dear life. He pushed Robert all the way down, listening as he gagged, but didn’t protest against it, only moving his head more feverishly. Obscene noises filled the room as Roger did little to restrain himself, slightly bucking his hips up into Robert’s mouth. The little gags and noises he made drove Roger mad, and closer and closer to climax. He was so close, he was getting so close—
And then Robert pulled off.
Roger squealed in frustration, face red and eyes glistening as he looked at Robert, pleading. “Come on, please!” He cried. He was so painfully hard and overly sensitive. He couldn’t help it as he threw his head back when Robert gently traced a finger up his shaft.
“Patience is a virtue, my love,” Robert replied, swirling his index finger around the tip. The touch was so gentle, almost ticklish on his overly sensitive prick. He let out a loud cry, his hips thrusting upward on reflex. Robert immediately pulled his hand away.
“You’re very funny,” he said, making Roger groan in annoyance.
“Shut up!” He whined, and Robert chuckled, sitting himself properly on the couch. He leaned forward to the coffee table and opened a cabinet on it. He pulled out a bottle of lube and set it on the couch beside himself.
“Lay across my lap, Roger. Ass up.”
Roger didn’t hesitate, immediately crawling over and situating himself over Robert’s legs, holding onto his thigh as he arched his back and let his robe slide down his back to reveal his ass.
“You are so eager. Always obedient to everything I tell you…” Robert hummed, smoothing a hand over Roger’s backside, appreciating the soft skin, before giving it a hard smack. Roger cried out, jaw dropping as the sting settled into his skin. A red handprint was left in its wake, and it wasn’t long before Robert striked again on the opposite side to match it, creating another whine from Roger.
“You just wanna be bruised up, don’t you?”
“Yes sir,” Roger whimpered, gasping as Robert spanked him again. The sting felt so fucking good.
“You want me to make it hard for you to sit tomorrow?”
“Please!” Roger whined, squealing as Robert landed another hard smack. It stung so good.
Robert gently rubbed over the red skin, making Roger moan softly. He gave another smack for good measure, listening to the squeak Roger made, before he went for the lube, squeezing some onto his fingers. Roger waited in anticipation, wiggling his ass in the air. Suddenly he felt the cool wetness of Robert’s fingers between his cheeks and he immediately went still. He took a breath as Robert rubbed his index finger along his perineum, jaw dropping at the new sensation. He didn’t even know that place was sensitive. He whimpered and mewled, the sensation almost overwhelming with how teasing it was. So, so close to where he wanted it most….
And then suddenly Robert’s fingers were travelling upward, and his index finger was tracing his rim. Roger whined loudly, his hole fluttering from the stimulation and anticipation. Robert chided and shook his head. “Relax, or I won’t do it.”
Roger huffed and tried his hardest to relax himself. He didn’t have time to respond before Robert was slowly pushing a finger inside of him. He squealed, eyes widening as he dug his nails into Robert’s bare thigh. “Robert, please..”
“Please, what? I don’t even know what you’re asking for,” The singer mumbled, slowly bringing his finger in and out of Roger. The bassist could only keen and whine, unable to recall any words needed to ask for more. He was only graciously given what he wanted after a few moments, his eyes rolling back in his head from the stimulation and the stretch. Robert gently spread his fingers in a scissoring motion, making Roger claw at his thigh and the couch.
“Oh my God,” he whined, back arching as a third finger was added. “Oh my God!”
“God, you’re noisy,” Robert chuckled out, curling his fingers upward against Roger’s prostate, listening as he let out a loud moan in response, trying to push his ass back to get more of that sensation, but Robert grabbed him by the hips and stilled him, before pressing hard against the spot Roger wanted so badly to be stimulated. To say that he almost screamed was an understatement, waves of pleasure wracking over the bassist’s body.
The words ‘ Oh my God’ were a mantra for Roger, repeating them over and over as Robert’s fingers pressed and rubbed against his prostate. He was losing grip on what was real and what wasn’t, heavenly pleasure coursing through him. He couldn’t focus on anything else but that, and the growing warmth in his stomach (for the third time this evening). He prayed that Robert would let him cum, prayed and prayed he would be able to.
It seemed like he would – Roger got closer and closer to the edge, loud whines and moans filling the beautiful room, Robert whispering sweet praise to him, it was wonderful. He could feel it coming so quickly, and Robert showed no sign of stopping. He was right there— he gasped loudly, and—
Robert pulled his fingers out.
Roger screamed in frustration, punching the couch. He heard the singer laugh from above him, and he cried. He was literally fucking crying. All because he wasn’t being brought to orgasm.
Robert laughed harder at the sound of Roger’s tears, eyebrows turning up. “Oh, you poor thing!”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Roger yelled, his whole body shaking. He needed release so bad. It was so built up inside of him that it was painful.
Robert’s laughing died down and he flipped Roger over onto his back, grabbing a pillow and putting it under Roger’s hips. Roger grumbled and mumbled the whole time, an arm draped over his forehead as he tried to ground himself, but his mind was so far spiralled out of control. He didn’t even realise what Robert was doing until he felt something cold and wet against his ass. He snapped his head toward Robert with raised eyebrows, seeing that he had already untied his robe, lubricated, and was teasing Roger with his dick. Roger was speechless, barely able to come up with anything to say.
“Good Lord, please, Robert…” he finally whispered, and the singer smiled.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart,” Robert replied, carefully positioning himself. Roger held his breath, anticipating the intrusion, and letting his head fall back as Robert pushed into him, slowly moving forward until he bottomed out. Roger shook slightly just from how big Robert was, barely able to process the whole thing.
“Holy fucking shit,” he whimpered quietly while Robert pet his hair, letting him get used to it. “Shit, you’re fucking huge. ”
“I know. Tell me when you’re ready for me to move, honey.”
It took Roger a few moments, but after a minute or so, he gave Robert a nod. “Go ahead.”
He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as he held onto Roger’s hips, slowly pulling out and then thrusting back into Roger. The sounds of languid pleasure coming out of his mouth drove Robert wild, especially now that he actually had his dick inside of him. He couldn’t restrain himself from speeding up just so he could hear the chorus it would produce in Roger’s beautiful voice. He groaned to himself as the moans got higher in pitch, mouth falling open slightly as he kept his pace from getting to fast.
Roger was in heaven. The feeling of Robert being completely inside of him, with what he had to guess was 10 inches, was almost overwhelming. He had never felt this full in his life. He had never hooked up with anyone as big as this, and he didn’t think he would ever find someone like this again. He hoped he wouldn’t have to, though, because if he got to experience this everyday… he’d be set for life. He let out a small cry as Robert upped the speed and intensity, whining and trying to catch his breath. Robert took his hands from Roger’s hips and instead wrapped them around him, burying his face in the crook of the bassist’s neck where he sucked a hickey.. or two.. or five. He wanted to mark Roger as his own, wanted to keep him as his - he was too cute, too pretty to be anyone else’s. Fucking him was a delicious experience - and watching his face made it all the better.
The way Roger’s brows turned upwards and his moans always got higher with each speed increment; the way he would moan Robert’s name, wrap his arms and legs around him and claw at his back; the way he would ask Robert to go faster, harder — it drove him insane . He wanted it forever.
He could hear Roger’s voice get slightly choked up as he got closer to his climax, his grip becoming tighter and throwing his head back as tears started to fall down his cheeks and long, loud moans poured from his pretty lips. Robert could only admire the sight, too focused on both that and his own pleasure that he couldn’t even think to try and edge Roger right now. He needed to see the beautiful expression that would befall his face when he came, wanted to see how his body would convulse and ride the waves of pleasure.
It builded and builded, Robert only getting harder and faster in desperation, and Roger only getting louder and louder, more tears of pleasure falling as he felt his long denied and awaited orgasm coming closer.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Robert! Oh my fucking God! Please, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—”
Robert listened, keeping his pace and power, listening as Roger completely broke apart. He watched as the man let out a sharp cry, his nails digging into his shoulders as he suddenly convulsed. His back arched and he threw his head back, his dick twitching as he came all over his own chest. His eyes closed and he let out a long whine as he climaxed. The edging had clearly worked, as it took a complete thirty seconds for him to fully finish. The sight was heavenly. Robert could barely hold himself back as he thrusted one last time and pressed his hips tight to Roger’s, filling him to the limit. The way Roger’s legs twitched around him told him he could barely handle it, but he got no objection. Roger loved it. He loved how nice and filled he felt; he loved how cared for he felt as Robert slowly pulled out and leaned down to give him a kiss on the head. Roger, blissed out, barely processed it, but appreciated it nonetheless.
Robert got up and picked the exhausted boy up, bringing him to the bathroom, which had a red, heart-shaped tub. Roger smiled tiredly at it, completely going limp as soon as he was set down in it and Robert started filling it with water. Before the water could reach past his knees, Robert took his black robe off, throwing it to the side before he grabbed a tissue and cleaned the cum off of Roger’s chest. He didn’t want that floating around in the water.
Robert then undressed himself, which only consisted of his red robe, before he climbed in the big tub with Roger, wrapping his arms around him. The bassist smiled and leaned into it, weakly trying to wrap an arm around Robert.
“Best birthday ever,” Roger mumbled, and Robert raised his eyebrows.
“It’s your birthday today?? How lucky…”
“Yeahh… was out at the bar with my friends who went home early. Then I met you.”
“I think it was meant to be, then. Happy birthday,” Robert replied, kissing Roger on the cheek. The bassist smiled and nodded slowly.
“Thank you, and maybe so. I definitely know that I don’t want to shag anyone else after all that.”
Robert grinned. “I couldn’t agree more.”
They shared a gentle kiss, Robert’s hand gently resting on Roger’s jaw. They kissed until the water almost got too high, where Robert had to pull away and turn it off. He then turned back to Roger.
“What do you say I take you out on a proper date tomorrow?”
Roger smiled brightly and nodded. “I’d like that, Robert.”