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The guys had come to Bojan's apartment to help him decide on an outfit for an interview he had that day. The brown-haired man didn't understand why some interviewers seemed to insist on interviewing only him. Okay, he might be the singer and probably the most recognisable face out of all of them – whether he liked it or not – but after all they were a band, and the band consisted of five people, not just him. He didn't want his bandmates – and boyfriends – to feel less important.
So that's why they were there, sitting in the living room watching Bojan finish getting changed, after assuring him a few times that they were completely okay with this.
Kris was sitting in the armchair next to the couch, his legs dangling over the side, and Jure was standing leaning against the wall; meanwhile Nace was sitting on the couch, Jan on his lap and his arms around the younger's waist. They were all watching a clearly anxious Bojan trying to fix his clothes in front of the mirror for what seemed like the tenth time in the last five minutes.
As for the singer, he was wearing Nace's black cardigan over a plain white T-shirt and his favorite pair of trousers (this time from his own closet), accompanied by one of Kris' rings, Jure's chain and one of Jan's hair ties around his wrist.
He knew the fans would probably analyze it later, but he didn't care. He wanted to feel his boyfriends as close as possible.
“Jurček, can you help me with this, please?” he sighed after struggling with the cardigan for a few moments.
It looked perfect, if you asked Jure, but he still nodded and said “Of course. C'mere, pup.”
Bojan walked over to him and the blond brought his hands to the lapels of the cardigan, positioning it correctly. “Done,” he smiled.
“Thank you, muca,” he smiled back and leaned up, leaving a small peck on the drummer's lips. He didn't think too much about it, it just felt like the usual thing to do after thanking one of his boyfriends.
“Okay, I really need to go now or I'll be late,” Bojan said, but Kris' voice stopped him in his tracks before he could turn around to walk through the front door.
“Wait, before you go!” the guitarist spoke up, getting up from the armchair and approaching Bojan. He placed one of his hands on the singer's waist, pulling him closer to his body and giving him a kiss, this time much longer than the one he gave the drummer, making him stand on his tiptoes so he could reach more comfortably. Kris pulled away slowly, nibbling a little on his lower lip. “There, you can go now.”
“Oh hell no, he can't,” Jan growled, rising quickly from his place on Nace's lap, grabbing Bojan's chain with one finger and yanking it, smashing their lips together in a heated kiss. A little moan escaped Bojan’s mouth and the dark-haired man took it as an opportunity to push his tongue inside the singer's mouth.
When they parted, Bojan was breathless, a blush creeping up his cheeks rather quickly. He could feel three pairs of eyes staring at them as Jan leaned close to his ear. “Why don't you give our Nacko some attention too, Bojč?” he whispered, his breath in his ear and his deep voice sending a shiver down Bojan's spine.
His gaze switched between the guitarist and the bassist a couple of times, both looking at him with a smirk on their faces, until the older one patted his lap in a silent invitation.
Without a second thought, Bojan walked over to the couch and straddled Nace, one leg on either side of his hips.
“Hello there, pretty boy,” Nace said, his hands slowly caressing his thighs up and down and squeezing them gently.
The bassist tilted his head up slightly and connected their lips in another kiss. He wasn't as rough as Jan, but certainly no less passionate.
Bojan could have sworn he heard someone mutter “fuck, they look so hot together, don't they?”, but he couldn't really tell who it was.
As they broke the kiss, Bojan slowly opened his eyes and removed his hands from Nace's hair – when had he put them there?
“Weren't you running late for an interview?” Nace smirked against his lips.
Oh shit, the interview. “Yeah, yeah, of course, I gotta... Yeah,” he started rambling, getting up and walking towards the door once again, earning various chuckles from the guys.
Jure, who had been watching every one of his boyfriends’ movements really closely, pouted and said “Hey, that's not fair! I only got a little peck.” He pulled Bojan's arm and turned him around, his hands going straight to his ass and squeezing it, kissing him hard. The sudden action elicited yet another moan from the singer. Fucking hell what has gotten into them?, he thought to himself.
“There, all done,” Jure smiled, smacking him on the ass.
Slowly withdrawing himself from Jure's arms, Bojan began to run his hands through his hair, fixing it for the twentieth time that morning and trying to regulate his breathing. “C-can I go now?”
“Yep,” said the drummer with his big sunshine smile.
“Don’t worry, you'll get more than just a few kisses after you're back from the interview,” Jan added with a wink.
If Bojan was already blushing before, he was pretty sure he was as red as a tomato right now.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying (unsuccessfully) to come up with some smart comeback.
“I'm... gonna go now. See you,” he said awkwardly instead, causing all his boyfriends to burst out laughing as he turned around, picking up his keys and walking out the front door as quickly as he could.
And if the only thought on Bojan's mind while he drove there was ‘please, don't get hard on national TV’, well, the guys will probably make up for it when he comes home.