Warnings: Title is sort of misleading...but there is a good 'ol blowie.

Also Steven and Joe are older in this, and I believe that picture is actually, or was I should say, Joe's Duxbury house. Pretty nice, right?

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Hearing the melodic, electric shrill blast from the amp was definitely Joe's happy place.

He was playing his guitar in the Boneyard, the basement studio underneath his Duxbury house in Massachusetts, riffing and merging into various songs when muscle memory kicked in and flowed out of his fingers, when a pair of arms looped around his middle and soft lips kissed his cheek.

Smiling, Joe slowed down on the shredding, but capping and sliding along the frets with his left hand and occasionally plucking a few of the six strings with his right still made music in their ears.

There was a long humming sigh that turned into the right side of his hair and because of the slightly shorter, styled length it allowed for the lips to easily brush the skin on his neck.

One nip turned into a kiss on his pulse point, one squeeze of his middle pulled him back into a safe chest, and a little rub of something hard left no stretch to the imagination of what Steven was hinting towards.

"I'm horny. Can we fuck?"

Sex. It was always something sex related with Steven. Still, it made Joe smile as he pulled out the lead to his guitar.

"Hi, horny. I'm Joe."

Steven was poking his head into view. "Is that a yes?"

"No," Joe laughed, side eyeing the hopeful features and equally saw them fade. He escaped the loosened embrace and replaced his guitar in his substantial collection of priceless craftsmanship. "Go and have a wank."

Steven whined, following him to the corner.

"But I want you! It's not the same when I do it."

The attention low on his stomach re-appeared and as Joe was standing straight, he slipped his left hand down to stop the movement.

Their expensive wedding rings rested on top of each other, precious tokens of love that had been put on first in July ninety six, making them fourteen years wed, but together properly since eighty four when Aerosmith regrouped for the Back In The Saddle Tour.

Joe got down on one knee after the encore and asked the question on stage with the iconic scarf infused microphone stand. He'd stunned Steven, shocked their audience, but the long seconds awaiting his answer was well worth it in the end.

Was it planned? No. Joe didn't even have a ring at the time, but he had never had been so sure of something in his life than to marry this charming, hyperactive singer and make the countless nights they had wound up in the same bed together in the seventies worth something more than just a crush.

"Please?" Steven tried again, pouting adorably over his shoulder.

Joe sighed, with the apologetic raise of his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, Stevie. I just...don't feel like that anymore."

In his defence, Joe was sixty next month, which meant age was catching up to him and unfortunately plummeting his sex drive. He could go months without masturbating and feel absolutely fine, but apparently his husband could not.

But then, nothing had changed there. Steven had always been a horn dog, and had lived his life around the pleasures of sex. Music too, hard drugs for twenty odd years, but mostly sex.

"Pretty please?"

It had worked so many times in the past, puppy brown eyes, cute little nose, a tempting pout, but Joe simply tapped the wrinkling hands with pronounced veins pathing routes across skin.

"I'm sorry, but no means no."

"Ughh!" Steven let go dramatically. He was clearly taking it to heart with his deep frown and rash gesturing with his hands that fed into the sides of his hair. "You're so boring! Our sex life is completely dead at the point."

And then he stormed out and up the stairs before Joe had a chance to open his mouth.

The door slammed, the temperature dropped, but there were no hard feelings. So, with a shrug, Joe picked up a different guitar, hooked it up to tune, and let his husband cool off.

This wasn't uncommon in the Tyler/Perry residence.

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The rest of the day passed without seeing each other, but they had managed a normal dinner together, slightly quieter than usual, and they would at least be sleeping in the same bed tonight because Steven hadn't announced his plans otherwise.

Night routines were carried out, and whilst Joe was reading a fascinating biography about World War II in bed, Steven was finishing up brushing his teeth in the huge master bathroom that matched the size of the rest of the rooms in their healthy investment of money.

They'd lived in Duxbury for twenty two years, falling in love with it on the first viewing, and had had sex pretty much everywhere as Steven liked to remind him by pointing out the exact time and place when he was bored.

They even kept a few horses in stables just a short walk from the main house, and that particular adventure had involved a lot of hay in the wrong places.

Joe heard the flush of the toilet, the sigh that accompanied the flick of the light switch in the bathroom, and felt the slumped man in just his underwear clambering into the huge bed so he was very close next to him.

As he turned the page of his book, Joe could feel himself being stared at but he chose not to say anything. He managed about a quarter of another paragraph before a suggestive hum and knuckles began to brush their way down his armband tattoo, underneath the thin covers, and ultimately landed in his crotch.

Joe inhaled through his teeth. "Steven-"

"Shh, just let me make you feel good."

Steven's voice had become raspier with age, which actually made it sexier when he sang in Joe's opinion, and they were actually throwing suggestions around for a new album at some point.

It would be refreshing working on a project all together again.

"It's not going to do anything," Joe told him, all tense with the unwanted attention. "I've...tried."

The careful rubbing to his soft dick stopped.

"Just relax," Steven said, positioning closer so their legs tangled together. He was very persuasive when he needed to be. "Think about me touching you. Yeah?"

Giving in to the lips ducking down latching onto his neck, Joe rested his head back. He scrunched his eyes closed, thinking about how much he loved the man that was pulling down the collar of his sleep t-shirt to run a tongue and kiss along his collarbone, and the perfect pressure kneading into his cock and balls, but none of it was working.

His dick was not responding.

"Fuck me. You really can't get it up anymore, can you?"

Thirty seconds. A minute. Joe didn't know how long it had been, but it was enough for Steven to declare his broken state.

"Thanks, fuckhead," Joe grumbled, slamming his abandoned book on his bedside and turning off his light to go to sleep.

"Naw, no no, baby, I didn't mean it like that," Steven retraced in guilt, leaning over and turning the light back on. He probably had that look of concern as he gave a soothing back rub. "Why don't you try viagra? It gives me a headache, but that's not to say it won't work for-"

"What if I just don't want to have sex anymore?" Joe threw back over his shoulder, sick and tired of the drama the touchy subject held over him. "Steven, we're getting old. You have constant problems with your feet and my dick doesn't get hard. Just accept we can't do what we could thirty years ago. Yeah?"

He wanted to regret his tone, but he didn't. Being pestered over this, that and the other was making his patience wear thin, and reflecting on the days when he was carefree and young, sometimes got to him.

The anger was just a coverup for how upset he was.

"Okay," Steven conceded quietly, and shuffled back to his own side. He lay down on his back. "Goodnight then."

"Yeah," Joe muttered, turning the light out for good. He faced away from his husband. "Night."

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Around a month later, it took them to September the tenth- Joe's sixtieth birthday.

He had refused to try viagra or any of the things Steven kept suggesting, but their petty arguing didn't actually cause any distance in their marriage.

It was tough love, but when they had put up with each other's presence for forty years (apart from their 'moment' in seventy nine), they knew it was important to enjoy the time off the road from touring and could always persuade the other for a cuddle and a movie.

As for his birthday, Steven had organised a small gathering of family and friends at the house with a barbecue lunch and, because the weather held out, made the swimming pool available for the kids to play.

Sometimes, Joe wished he and Steven had adopted their own kids, and they had talked extensively about it in the past, but when they were always on planes travelling to perform in different countries or even just states in the US, they decided it wouldn't be fair for children to grow up in that sort of environment.

Apart from that wishful reflection, it had been a really great day, and despite entering a new decade of his life, Joe was extremely appreciative of all of his gifts and love.

Steven had been the perfect host, and even though he was older by thirty months, he still dive bombed into the pool to remind everyone about his crazy character that could never be controlled.

Lesson one: Don't challenge a sixty two-year-old rockstar to make the biggest splash in the pool because you will lose.

So, with his husband on his mind as he so often was, Joe continued washing the remains of the party from his body in a relaxing shower.

He closed his eyes under the continuous stream to massage the shampoo out of his hair, and was smiling when he pictured Steven's diamond smile that was sent in his direction, or a hand slipping to rest on his hip during conversations, and the constant kisses to the corner of his mouth and cheek.

As for clothes, Steven wore anything he wanted and rarely the same thing twice, but he was currently really into his tight, low rise jeans with the seventies flares and imagining- knowing what was concealed underneath them, was the point in which Joe gasped in the shower and looked down to see his cock twitching to rise.

He was so shocked at the sight, he stared until his hair was flattening past his face and the water was pouring like a waterfall from the end of his nose.

Seeing the rarity of his own erection agitated him and he felt weirdly scared to touch himself. He thought it would go away if he distracted himself by conditioning the ends of his hair, but it did the opposite.

His cock was completely hard, balls tight, and he had to get out of the shower before he fell over trying to work out what to do with himself.

Heart beating strongly in more than just his chest, Joe rushed the end of his wash, fumbled to turn the system off, and then jumped a little when his towel brushed against his erection as he grabbed it.

He didn't look down as he dried his body- arms, chest...between his legs, and then tentatively wrapped it around his waist the best he could without disturbing his issue.

He ruffled his hair with another smaller towel he yanked from the heated rail, brushed his teeth as another distraction, and when he had run out of things to do, he gave himself a long, intense stare in a non-steamed up section of the mirror.

It was hot, and the bathroom was now even hotter, and it did not help how flushed he felt. Embarrassed by his own grimace, Joe looked down at the straining lump, reluctantly pushed his fingers down to rest on the top of the wrapped towel, but as soon as he traced the hard outline he snapped his hand away.

It just felt wrong.

But he couldn't suffer like this when his dick didn't seem to want to stop thinking about the hand, or mouth belonging to Steven, so Joe reluctantly poked his head out of the bathroom without drawing attention anywhere down past his chest.

"Uh, Steven?"

It sounded like a pathetic squeak.

"Mm?" was his response, with absolutely no acknowledgement. It was good in some ways, but bad with how he had to stop his knees from pressing together for a hint of friction.

Steven was lying on the bed, pen scribbling down intensely on a notepad, glasses low on the bridge of his nose and only glancing from what he was writing back up to the laptop screen that was resting on the bed.

He wasn't looking at Joe.

He wasn't even close.

"I...I have um-" Joe gulped suddenly, having a ridiculous urge to touch himself. He really was turned on. His cock was pounding and he had to grip onto the door frame to keep his balance. "Steven?"

There was a huff of irritation.

"What is it, Joe? Can you not see I'm fucking in the middle of something?" Steven snapped, looking extremely annoyed with his interruption.

Unfortunately, any expression the unique face of his husband pulled was something Joe still found extremely attractive, although the questionable tuft of facial hair he was sporting under his bottom lip was something he wouldn't mind seeing the last of.

"I-uh, sorry," Joe mumbled, head down, and turned back into his privacy.

He towelled off his hair again, since it was dripping down his shoulders, whilst scanning the huge bathroom that had a whole cabinet dedicated moisturising products (Steven's, not his) and then chucked it on the side of his marble surrounded wash basin.

Steam still circulated the air and Joe was far too hot to think straight, so without wasting another second, he dropped the pressuring towel around his waist.

It hit the floor, masked by the hum of the fan and his own deeper breaths, and then his naked body was leaning against the wall with a hand ghosting, but pulling away with nerves where he needed his touch.

A touch. Steven's touch.

With heavy lidded eyes, Joe stared at his horny sight in the horizontal mirror as his cock throbbed beneath him.

For sixty, his body was pretty impressive. His skin was tanned from the summer, there was an outline of abs, and his arms were skinny, but toned. The only negative physicality feature was that he was slightly hunched, but he had exercises and a brace to help him improve his posture.

There was a soft knock at the door.

Joe immediately looked down at the pinkish head of his excited cock and then squeezed his hands into fists because he still couldn't touch himself.

"Joe? Hey, I'm sorry for shouting. It was just the doctor wanting me to make an appointment next week for bloods again."

Oh, Steven was having hepatitis C treatment. He had been for a few years after finding out he was asymptomatic, and although he did well to keep going, there were times he really struggled and ended up crying at night when he was also constantly in pain with his dodgy feet.

Joe felt a tonne of guilt.

"It's all good, don't worry 'bout it," he said, raising his shaky voice towards the door.

A pause.

"You okay in there?"

Sometimes having his best friend for a husband sucked. Because Steven always knew when something was the matter.

"Can I...come in?"

"No!" Joe yelped, pushing himself from the wall. He bunched up the mat on the floor with his toes during the fast movement and tried to function with words. "No, I-I'm fine! I'll be out in a second!"

That was a lie, because he had no fucking clue what to do. He couldn't touch himself and his dick was still ridiculously hard, so when the door opened anyway, because the bathrooms didn't have locks for possible relapse reasons, Joe jumped back, twisted his knees together and did his best to cover his erection with his hands.

"No, Steven! Get out please! Pl-"

The plea got caught in his throat when he watched Steven freeze. He watched the hand fall from the handle. He watched the gaze drop down. And Joe just wanted it all to end.

"...ease?"

"Oh, dear Lord, if it isn't a fine Aerosmithsonian baloney. I do not believe my eyes and I'm not even wearing my glasses." Steven's face contorted into a shocked grin as he looked up, and it was like he had just seen the greatest jackpot of all time. "Joe Perry, have you got a stiffy!?"

"I-uh n-no, well-"

Steven burst out laughing, head thrown back, which did not help Joe's cowering posture and flushed face when he felt the slick from his cock paint his palm.

Nothing was turning him off it seemed.

"Why didn't you say, love?" Steven asked, sympathetically rumbling with laughter. He scratched the front of his hair back.

"I tried to!" Joe responded passionately, standing up straight. He couldn't be asked to cover his penis anymore, and just smoothed and held his hair back instead. He did feel guilty about the doctor appointment. "But you were busy. I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Shh," Steven hushed, sliding a confident hold down his waist because whilst he had been talking, a certain singer had been walking closer. "That doesn't matter anymore."

Joe was closing his eyes when the kiss registered to his lips, instantly warming to the talented mouth that enveloped his own. He gripped onto the silk ruffle sleeves of Steven's shirt that had been partnered with a waistcoat earlier, and was gently guided back to the wall he had once slumped against.

"How does it feel?" Steven asked, all low with his raspy voice, kissing down his throat where age was beginning to wrinkle his skin.

Joe may not have been directly touched, but having his cock jammed against dark washed, heavily ripped jeans and having his ribs and stomach being worshipped by splayed fingers and brushing thumbs, was the foreplay pleasure he hadn't felt in forever.

"Good," Joe admitted quite breathlessly, moving his hands to grasp onto the shoulders for some of his own stability. "Really...good."

The exploration of his naked body gratefully stopped, and Steven's happy face appeared, all smiley with the permanent little lines crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"See? You're not broken." A gentle nudge to his nose. "The moment just has to be right."

Joe watched the tongue sweep between lips before they were pushed against his in another kiss. It was deeper than before, wetter with more tongue, and each push and pull was accompanied by squashed breathing that wanted to escalate into something more.

So, when Steven relieved his hips back and tested the pads of his fingers down the smooth but defined ridges of Joe's cock, he probably wasn't expected to receive the grip to his wrist

"Can we go in there?" Joe asked in defence of himself, flicking his very awake eyes to the door. "I-I don't think I can stand up for it."

Admittedly, he still hadn't quite decided what he wanted, but he may have been veering towards a blow job. It was what he preferred, and Steven was pretty fucking good at them.

"Yeah, 'course we can."

At ease with the soft smile, Joe was freed from the bathroom responsible for his erection. He wondered why Steven didn't follow him out straight away, but when he sat down on the edge of the bed, he quickly saw the dramatic pose of a head tipped back and knuckles flown over eyes.

Steven was planning something by his cheeky smile that stretched under his chin.

"Take me on your rockin' horse!"

And there it was. The singing voice that still perfected every note.

"Hit the lights!" The lights dimmed in the bedroom. "And shut yo doors!" The bathroom door was closed. "Grab your ankles everyonnne!'' Joe's ankles were grabbed by a crazy lead singer carefully dropping to his knees. "Ain't my way of havin' fun!"

Joe had no words. Absolutely none, as the hands trailed up to his bare thighs.

"You want me to sing the chorus?"

"It...doesn't really fit with the situation anymore."

Steven tipped his head in thought. "Could, if I leave you hanging."

"Just suck my dick," Joe said in desperation, pushing his damp, uncombed hair back again. "Please."

A hand wrapped neatly around his cock.

"Well, I feel a bit of pressure here. It's been such a long time, I might not remember what you like."

"Bullshit," Joe scoffed, dropping his chin to his chest as he leaned back on his elbows. "That is ing-ahnuh!"

Steven sucked back up, detaching his lips with a smack. "Ingahunuh? What the fuck is that?"

"Y-you...You-" Choked up on the temporarily control he had lost, Joe scowled, "Fuck you."

Steven was already smirking, gently jerking him up with a smoothly moving wrist. "So, I still got it then. Guess it really is ingrained into my memory."

He was such a twat. He had known exactly what Joe was trying to say before his big fucking mouth sucked down on his cock and threw him off completely.

"Looks good," Steven commented with a wink, referring to his freestanding cock that almost touched his stomach again. "Only real difference is the greys in your pubes."

Understandably, Joe snapped. He was getting past the point of impatience.

"Would you just shut the fuck up?"

Steven twitched his mouth back and to the side. At least it was now in closer proximity where it could be of some use.

"Uh oh, someone doesn't wanna be teased."

With that, the tongue darted out and licked him up. Swirled the bead of precum, and absolutely wrecked his sanity into a moaning mess.

Even the touches to his thighs were making his toes curl in the best way.

It probably shouldn't have surprised him, but when Joe eventually fed his fingers into Steven's full head of hair with a grey streak tinting the front, he saw him squeezing and rubbing his own crotch and fidgeting all over the place.

"Stevie, just take your jeans off," Joe managed to pant out. "Horny fuckin' bastard."

Steven seemed exceptionally pleased to be able to pause the blow job, sitting back on his heels, and he fumbled the button and zip over the straining lump.

"Unbelievable..."

"What! So I'm supposed to not get turned on sucking my husband's cock, feeling him tug my hair and moan out sweet noises?"

Steven stuck his hand into his underwear and started moving it. The exaggerated anger faded, and he calmed down pretty quickly after that.

Joe just blinked and gestured to himself. "Ahem?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me?" Steven mocked, pumping his own cock harder and stretching his underwear for better viewing. "Yeah, well, now you know how it feels to be rejected."

Amused more than anything, Joe just bent down, pulled his face closer in his hands, and kissed him, hard.

The protesting noises got muffled in his mouth as Joe rubbed his thumbs over the smooth cheekbones and his tongue traced the tuft of facial hair before he latched onto the plump lower lip.

When he felt satisfied enough that he had successfully shut his husband up with a filthy tongue heavy kiss, Joe pulled away.

"Who's birthday is it?"

"Yours," Steven grumbled.

Smirking, Joe leaned back again and gladly watched the lips suckle over his cock.

His eyes drifted closed at some point, his verbal encouragement got lazier and all of the attention to his deprived lower half was outrageously enjoyable, especially when Steven flicked his tongue and rubbed it down his entire length with every deep throating motion.

"Faackk!" Joe reached forward for Steven's hair and consequently switched up the angle with a rut of his hips forward. "Right...there. Yeah, keep goin'."

This time, feeling the familiar jolts low in his stomach intensify kept his eyes open because Joe was watching the desperate hand that Steven was pleasuring himself with. Every so often, it vibrated a sigh on his cock, lips retreating to the sensitive area of his tip for a breather, and then Steven was back to doing what he did best, and giving him head.

Joe curled his fingers into the singer's hair. He loved how it felt; he always had.

"Need you...to-"

A hand wrapped around the base of his cock to jerk him off at a different pace to the warm mouth and pretty soon, Joe was prolonging a low noise and shooting cum down Steven's throat.

Whilst he was recovering, he tipped Steven's head back, watched the pretty, swollen mouth appear all hung open with a droplet glistening in the corner, and then when their lustful gazes locked, Joe saw each little contort of facial features as the man on his knees finished himself off with the slowing movement of his hand.

And that was the first time they had orgasmed together in a couple of years.

"Thank you," Joe mumbled, kissing his forehead.

Steven nodded lazily, drooping his eyes.

"You're welcome," he breathed out.

Joe continued to stroke the shoulder length hair, fiddling with the rat's tail, whilst the squashed face breathed out against his right knee.

They definitely weren't twenty five anymore, but they still knew their way around a good time.

Eventually, Steven stirred and Joe helped him up, laughing to himself when he saw the state of the jeans around knees and wonky boxer briefs with a fresh jizz mark on the front, and he definitely let his amusement audibly slip when he was left to watch his husband comically 'limp' into the bathroom to clean himself up.

Alone and thankfully relieved, Joe picked out his pyjamas from under his pillow and felt the happiest he had done in ages as he settled on his side of the bed with the final chapters of his book to read.

"So, Joe!" Steven returned, bouncing onto the bed on his hands and knees. Sometimes his changes in energy levels were astounding. "What made you hard?"

"You know the answer to that," Joe chuckled, not really looking up from his page.

With no immediate reply, he thought he could read in peace. He was wrong, because fingers with the iconic black and white nail painted stripe, gracefully hooked over the page and forced his attention up.

"I really don't, because I can put porn on and you're not interested. I can walk around naked and it does nothing. I can-"

"That's because you're trying," Joe interrupted, taking advantage of the human bookmark keeping his book open and propped up on his lap, and instead reached over to undo the last of the buttons on Steven's mostly open shirt. "I was just thinkin' about everyday you. When you're just...you."

The shirt was left loose over his shoulders. Joe slowly looked up.

"That's a lot of you's," Steven remarked, all smiley with how he lifted up his chin. And then he sat up, took his hand from the book to reposition it to the other side of Joe's hip, and heard the biography flop down. "Uh, whoops."

"Man, now I've lost my page! Fuck you."

"Ooh, there's another you."

Joe scrabbled to flick through the pages, but opted for gripping the front and back cover between his fingers and swatting the closest arm to take out his frustration.

"Ow!"

"Well, you deserve it," Joe grumbled, placing the book on his nightstand.

His frown did fade when he turned back and saw a smile, a pause of suggestion because he knew why Steven was leaning so close, and he did nothing to stop the tender kiss that was massaged to his lips.

"I love you."

"Yeah, I love you too."

"Ouch," Steven winced, abruptly pulling away. "Why'dya say it like that?"

"Because it's going to be the death of me."

"Noo, we're too young to be this old!"

"You are. Me?" Joe yawned and stretched out his toes, "Not so much."

Steven backed away to his side of the bed and swung his legs over the edge. "Right, so you didn't just cum like a teenager jacking off for the first time."

Joe shot his hunched back a disgusted look. "Screw you, Tyler."

"Oh, I really wish you would," Steven tossed back over his shoulder as he put on a fresh pair of underwear.

Then his shirt was chucked to the floor, and he was sliding into the bed with a not quite hidden mischievous grin.

"Just you wait, because when I hit sixty nine..."

Joe groaned when the arm looped over his middle and tugged him closer for a cuddle .

There was just no escape, and although it sucked to admit it sometimes, he wouldn't have it any other way.

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