FicWad

Summary: "Well, if you'd let me sleep, I would be off in La-La Land by now and you would probably be at least dozing. What do you want me to do, suck you off or what?" He looked to the left, saw Sav was fighting back a smile.

"It didn't cross my mind, but if you're offering . . ."

Or: Sav can't sleep. Joe decides to help.

Notes: The title for this one comes from a line in "I Wanna Be Your Hero" off the Retro Active album. This is also partly inspired by DKD's Def Leppard fic "Gravity" over on Rockfic.


"Joe." The familiar voice hissed through the darkness again: "Oi! Joe!"

A low growl of protest rumbled in the alpha's chest, but he cracked one eye open anyway. "What, Sav?" he snarled.

"I can't sleep," was the beta's response.

Joe groaned and rolled over, covering his ears with his pillow. "Well, try. It's not that difficult."

"I've tried," Sav said flatly. "I just can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes . . ." His voice trailed off; through the pack-bond they shared, Joe could sense unease, horror, and disgust coming from Sav. The singer waited in silence, not wanting to push at the mental link. (Since he was alpha, he knew where Sav was at any moment in time, felt the beta's emotions, and could even communicate telepathically with him when they weren't in lupine form. He couldn't read minds, though, not really. With 'wolves who weren't pack, he head to be in his other form in order to communicate in thought-speak.) There was no immediate answer from Sav.

"What, Sav?" Joe finally asked in a quiet voice. "What do you see?"

"Nothing," the bassist answered quickly. "It's nothing. Forget it."

Joe was definitely cross by now. "You woke me up because you were having nightmares, and then won't tell me what they are?" He snorted derisively. "That's brilliant, just bloody brilliant. And now I can't sleep either, you dolt! All you've done is woken me up, too!"

"Sorry."

Sav sure didn't sound sorry.

Joe snarled in irritation and closed his eyes, trying to go back to sleep.

One green eye finally snapped open. "To 'ell with it." He rolled so he was facing Sav's bunk and propped himself up on one elbow. Thanks to his enhanced night vision—his senses remained heightened though he wasn't in his werewolf form—he could clearly see Sav's familiar shape stretched out in the narrow bed across the bus aisle. The beta 'wolf was resting on his left side facing Joe; and the alpha could have sworn Sav was smiling just a tiny bit, as if he was laughing at him.

"What?" Sav asked. Yeah, he was definitely smiling in an amused fashion. And the question, said in an innocent tone, had failed to sound that way.

"Because now I'm not going to fall asleep until you tell me what's going on with you."

"Since when are you a shrink, Joe?" The amusement in Sav's voice was palpable.

Joe's response to that was a warning snarl and bared fangs. "Since never, and thank God for that. But I do have to look out for my packmates."

"Yeah, yeah," Sav grumbled. "You're the alpha and all that."

"Yep." Joe smiled in spite of himself. "Don't you forget it."

"How can I?" Sav shot back. "You remind me, oh, only every other day."

"I do not!"

"Okay, maybe it's more like one a week," Sav amended. "And my 'wolf doesn't let me forget you're the pack leader either." He paused. "Have you ever thought about how weird our lives are sometimes? I mean, until two months ago, I would never have been talking about myself in wolf terms. With you, it wouldn't have been until five years ago. And we're in a popular rock band, for crying out loud!"

"I've never really thought about it," Joe admitted. "Whenever I do, I get vertigo. So yeah, it's odd, but I'm used to it."

A barely-contained snort came from the bassist. "Odd is a bit of an understatement, Joe."

"Eh." Joe shrugged his left shoulder. "If you say so, wereling."

"Will you quit—" Sav stopped mid-sentence and exhaled through his nose. "You're never going to stop calling me that, so forget I even started."

"'Kay. But it is what you are, Sav."

"Yeah, half-human half-werewolf. Lucky me," the bassist said sarcastically.

"Hey, at least we don't turn into lions or tigers or—"

"Bears, oh my," Sav interrupted with an amused grin.

Joe's green eyes flared turquoise as he glared at Sav. "Never quote The Wizard of Oz again, Sav. It's just scary. And for the record, I was going to say leopards."

"That would be ironic, that would," Sav admitted. "The big cats aren't all that friendly, though, are they?"

"If we ever go to Africa, I guess we'll find out. Lions live in prides, though," Joe amended.

Sav smirked and began singing a Toto song. "It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I bless the rains down in Africa—"

"Oh, shut up," Joe snapped, grabbing his pillow and throwing it across the narrow aisle into Sav's bunk. It hit Sav square in the face, and the alpha growled in satisfaction. The beta batted the pillow down into his lap and glared at the singer. "Really, Joe?"

"Hey, it worked," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, but now you don't have a pillow," Sav pointed out.

Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? This time his growl was one of anger. "I hate it when you're right.' His vision turned scarlet as his 'wolf's enhanced eyesight took over, taking in details he would miss as a human, and saw the amused look on Sav's face. The bassist said, "No you don't."

A barely-contained snarl came from the singer; Sav said hastily, "Okay, maybe you do. But not me. No one could ever hate me."

"You're just that irresistible," Joe said sarcastically.

"Yep," Sav said brightly. "And besides, you lo-o-ove me."

Joe sat straight up, swung his legs over the side of the bunk bed, and eyed the bassist strangely. "Sav, are you high or something?" His vision was still wolfed out, but he couldn't see any signs of drug or alcohol use. He couldn't smell anything either, other than the normal smells of the bus—currently immobile, as they'd stopped so the drivers could cop their zz's for a couple hours—and himself and Sav—his beta, best friend, and mate. How strange that up until a couple of months ago, he hadn't even considered the fact that his feelings for the bass guitarist were anything other than brotherly, friendly. Now, of course, they were brothers, in a sense. 'Wolf was 'wolf, and the ties were incredibly strong. The lupine community stretched around the world, and there were werewolf packs in practically all fifty states of America, save maybe Hawaii. There were quite a few packs back in England and Europe in general, but since their job kept them busy and in different cities all over the world, it was hard to keep in touch with local packs or the lupine community as a whole.

"No," Sav said. "I just can't sleep, and you know I get loopy when I can't sleep."

"Which brings me back to my original question: Why can't you sleep?" If Sav didn't give him a straight answer, Joe would just keep picking at it like a dog with a bone. (Or, in their case, a wolf with a bone.) Joe knew it, Sav knew it, heck, the entire band knew it.

"I already told you," Sav said, the easy amusement vanishing from his voice. "Nightmares."

"About what?" Joe leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. His eyes had returned to their normal shade of green, which was a relief for Sav. Even though he'd known Joe's secret for years, it was still a little disconcerting whenever his eyes, teeth, or nails would shift, revealing flashes of the wild animal that lurked within. Sav himself had only been a 'wolf for a little over two months, and even by werewolf standards he was different. Okay, yes, there were times he wondered how he'd stood being a human for so long when he now had all the speed, senses, and skills of a werewolf, but most of the time he hated his dual animalistic nature. Joe had said that he would grow to love being a werewolf. So far? Sav wasn't lovin' it. Yeah he was half-human, half-werewolf and able to control the 'wolf's instincts when in the lupine state, unlike Joe. When he transformed the singer had to have something to anchor his human side, or else his 'wolf was in full control. Whenever that happened, Sav was usually the one Joe ended up attacking—even before he'd accidentally bitten the wereling. So 'wolves weren't exactly Sav's favorite people.

"Sav," Joe's voice broke into his thoughts, "what are your nightmares about?"

"Werewolves skulking around Frankenstein's castle," he deadpanned.

Luckily, it had the desired effect: Joe stared at him before releasing a bark of laugher. Then the singer sobered up and said, "No, seriously. And don't even think about lying to me."

When Joe used that tone—the tone Sav associated with his 'wolf, or his position as pack leader—Sav and his own 'wolf had no choice but to obey their alpha. And right then, the bassist slightly resented the fact that the singer had so much authority over him and wasn't afraid to wield it. So he had authority issues, apparently. Well, not with their managers or producer per se, but as far as their record company went . . . There were definitely a few people there he'd like to kill. His thoughts were running away with him again, so he reined them in and decided to give Joe a straight answer.

"There are 'wolves involved, Joe, and that's all I'm telling ya."

Joe's pale-green eyes narrowed. "You have to give me more than that."

"I thought you said you weren't a shrink."

"I'm not, but— Oh, don't start that again!"

Sav couldn't resist pointing out that the singer was the one who had started the shrink angle up again. Joe growled wordlessly and snapped, "At least give me back my pillow."

The bassist pretended to think it over, then said, "Nah. It's your pillow, so you can come and get it."

"Sav . . ." Joe's voice had gone dark with warning. "You know what I'm like when I don't get a lot of sleep: I wake up in a bad mood. And no one wants to deal with that. So hand. Over. The pillow."

Even though Joe's tone of voice made it clear he was struggling to keep control over his 'wolf, Sav couldn't help needling him some more: "You know, it's not that far. You could just come over here and grab it."

Joe was leaning over him before Sav could even blink—he could move that fast. The singer's hands were reaching for the pillow when the bus jolted and began moving, sending Joe toppling onto the bassist. A surprised "Oof!" came from Joe's lungs, while Sav hissed in pain.

"Jesus, Joe, have you ever considered losing a bit of weight?"

"Hey, that's all muscle, that is."

"Still. How about you try this: Get—off."

"Do you really want me to?"

Ye— No. "Yes!"

Joe merely changed his position, Sav growling and wincing as the other 'wolf squashed even more parts of his anatomy. Now Joe's face was inches from Sav's, though Joe went rolling off the bassist when the bus turned sharply. Luckily, he landed in what little space there was left in Sav's bunk.

"That better?" the blond singer asked.

"No, you idiot! What were you trying to do—squeeze me to death?"

Joe scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course not."

"Well, that bloody hurt!"

"Wimp."

"Would you rather it be you instead of me?"

Silence.

"That's what I thought," Sav said smugly.

Joe didn't say anything for a while. "I just wanted to sleep," he murmured, half to himself. So far, it didn't look like he was going to earn much in that department.

"Yeah, well, I still can't sleep." That was Sav, of course.

"Well, if you'd let me sleep, I would be off in La-LaLand by now and you would probably be at least dozing. What do you want me to do, suck you off or what?" He looked to the left, saw Sav was fighting back a smile.

"It didn't cross my mind, but if you're offering . . ." The amusement in Sav's voice made it clear he was trying hard not to laugh.

Joe scowled and flipped him off, trying to ignore the fact that his 'wolf wanted him to do just as he'd suggested. He just wanted to sleep. . . . Unfortunately, now that the image of a naked Rick Savage writhing underneath him was in his head, Joe knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Besides, his 'wolf was battling with his human side for control—and focusing on Sav to calm down wouldn't work, since it had its sights on the beta, his mate (in more ways than one).

"All right, then," he said matter-of-factly, sitting up enough to slip off the old T-shirt he was using as a sleep shirt.

"Wh— What?" Sav choked out.

Joe looked over at him, green eyes darkening to the shade Sav associated with the bedroom. "You did say that if I was offering . . ." He shrugged. "I'm offering. Besides, I'm not sure if I can restrain my 'wolf for much longer." As he spoke, his hands were running lightly up Sav's body, starting at the navel and ending on his pectorals. "So smooth," he commented in an absent-minded way, the pads of his fingers massaging Sav's pecs in tiny circles. "Do you shave?"

Sav's breathing, which had hitched and started to go ragged, stopped altogether. "I think you know the answer to that, Joe."

Joe's tongue flicked out, wet his lips, and Sav's deep blue eyes followed the action. "Yeah, I guess I do." His fingertips grazed Sav's nipples, twisted, and the bass player's breath was drawn in a hiss.

"Why do you insist on doing that?"

"Because you seem to like it," Joe answered simply, shifting his body so he was hovering partly over and above Sav.

"Ah. Well, could you—" Sav broke off when Joe ducked his head, licked the underside of his jaw, then went up, trailing his lips along Sav's jawline. Then his mouth met Sav's, and the beta's mind was gone—because, damn, Joe was a brilliant kisser. One of Joe's hands was tangled in Sav's bushy brown hair while the other was exploring the beta 'wolf's lean frame.

A low moan escaped Sav when Joe's free hand slipped into the waistband of his sweats, fondled him. "God, Joe." His hips jerked up into his lover's hand; and the blonde pulled back from the kiss, a pleased rumble coming from deep in his chest. As he continued to stroke Sav; ran his thumb over the moistened slit; felt those lean, tight muscles quiver with need; Joe thought, He's so beautiful like this.

Yes. Mine, his 'wolf agreed.

Is that all you can say?

No.

Great, now his 'wolf had a sense of humor. Sheesh. The things he had to put up with when living with a band and his own personal demon . . . If he ever did have to talk to a psychiatrist, he would probably be forced to wear a straitjacket and be locked inside a rubber room.

Joe told himself to keep his mind on the bigger plan, slid the sweatpants off Sav's hips down to his ankles—deft leg movements by Sav had them completely off—and pressed his lips to Sav's inner thigh. Sav hissed out a dirty word and tightened his hold on Joe's mass of blonde hair. His claws pricked Joe's scalp, then sheathed themselves once Sav realized that he'd momentarily lost control. Joe didn't mind it, not really. He let his mouth roam at will, relaxed his human mind and allowed the 'wolf to take over because he didn't want to think about this too closely. His human half never did, and besides, he was enjoying himself. This wasn't entirely one-sided: the fact he was making Sav moan and shiver under his touch was making his own desire high, his own blood run hot.

His green eyes flicked up, met Sav's frazzled blue ones. A smirk tugged at his mouth as he moved higher, nuzzling into the musky heat in between Sav's legs.

"Joe . . ." There was an underlying urgency in Sav's voice now. "I don't want that, Joe, c'mon . . ." His hands were at Joe's hips, pushing down the singer's boxers. A few lines from Foreigner's "Urgent" played in the singer's head: You got fire in your veins, burning hot, but you don't feel the pain. Your desire is insane. You can't stop until you do it again. . . .But I know, yes I know, how to treat you right. That's why you call me in the middle of the night. You say it's urgent, so urgent. Just you wait and see how urgent our love can be . . . Then it switched to "Animal": I got to feel it in my blood, whoa oh. I need your touch, don't need your love, whoa oh. And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal. . . . Take me, tame me, make me your animal. Show me, stroke me, let me be your animal.

Joe moved higher, licking, nipping, and kissing his way up Sav's body, finally reclaiming the beta's mouth. The bassist's soft cry was swallowed as Joe slid a slick finger into him and began exploring the new territory.

"Bloody hell, Joe," Sav growled, eyes flickering from his normal shade to turquoise and back again. His back arched, hips bucked, his breath coming in short pants. His fingertips dug into the skin on Joe's back before sliding down to cop a feel of that delicious-looking arse. Joe grunted, and Sav smiled with the realization that the singer liked having his arse grabbed. That preference had been entered, saved, stored, and locked away for future reference.

Celebration time was over when Joe curled the finger inside him, ad Sav almost howled with pleasure. He was so close to coming he wanted to die—but he couldn't, not yet, it was too soon.

Joe suddenly yelped with pain and pulled back. "'Ey, Sav, watch where you stick your claws, will ya?"

"Quiet!" Sav hissed. "D'you want our driver coming back to investigate?"

"Not really."

"Good. I don't either, so how about you put that big mouth of yours to use, eh?"

Joe's green eyes went lupine-blue. "Say that again," he murmured low, ducking his head so his now-turquoise eyes had to glare up at Sav. The look was somewhat startling, and both the newblood and his 'wolf shrank back. Eye contact in this case meant a challenge—and he didn't want that. A nearly inaudible whimper came from his throat, and Sav hated himself for it, for the fact that Joe could reduce him to this. So could the full moon—but that wasn't the point.

"Sav," Joe finally said in a conversational tone.

"Y-yeah?"

"Do the world a favor and turn your mind off."

"I—"

That was all Sav got out before Joe was kissing him again—with tongue this time—and his hand was curled around the hard length of him. Sav nearly lost it right there. "Stop—teasing—me," he ground out when they broke apart for air.

Joe's head tilted at a curious angle, his facial features more 'wolf than human now, before it returned to its original position. "You're sure? We don't have—"

Sav was having none of it; before Joe knew quite what was happening he was surrounded by tight heat and groaning with pleasure. This wasn't any different from being with a female, really, though something inside him—maybe his 'wolf—recoiled at the thought. The wolf inside Joe growled, Mate. Mine.

I know, now shut up, wolf.

His lupine quieted, but Joe sensed it wasn't happy about it. He didn't care; he had more important things on his mind at the moment—like making sure he wasn't hurting Sav. His hips began to move, gradually picking up a faster rhythm, urging them over, again and again. Harder, harder, and the alpha werewolf had to bite back a howl as his release crashed through him.

His head rested on Sav's chest, rising and falling with his beta's heavy breathing. Then: "Joe?"

"Hhmm?" Green eyes met blue ones as the pack leader lightly raised his head.

"What was it you were singing that one morning back in Vail? In the shower?" There was a slightly-amused smirk on Sav's face. "Oh, yeah, I remember now: The wolf is hungry, he runs the show. He's licking his lips, he's ready to win on the hunt tonight for love at first sting. Here I am, rock you like a hurricane—"

Joe's low growl silenced him—but not for long.

"Y'know, that whole intimidation tactic is getting a bit old."

The singer's smile was all fangs as he ran a finger down Sav's stomach, ending just above a certain spot, then began teasing the most sensitive part of his anatomy. Sav whimpered and fell silent.

At last! I didn't think it was possible, but I've found a way to keep Rick Savage silent. He blinked. Wow, I think that's the first time any of us has ever said that. Normally I'm the one who needs shutting up.

"Got that right," Sav muttered, trying to roll over so he didn't have to look at Joe. "Now go to sleep, yeah?"

Joe glared before he cuffed the back of Sav's head. "What d'you think I was trying to do this whole time?"

"Sleep?"

"Well, actually, more like trying to shut you up so I could, yeah, but that's not the point. And why won't you sleep already?"

Sav didn't answer. After a moment of listening, Joe figured out the reason why: He was already out cold, breathing deep and regular. The singer shook his head in amused exasperation and crawled out, heading toward his own bunk. As he lay trying to sleep, snatches of lyrics danced in his mind: I wanna be your hero, I'll be your heat in the night. I wanna be your hero, I'll be a trick of the light. Hold tight, 'cuz I like what I see. You excite, you put your finger on me. You're not too shy, you put a sting on my tail. . . . Then, finally, even those faded as sleep claimed him.