"I'm on the highway to hell~!" I finished singing my band's, The Broken Ones, cover of the AC/DC song.
"Arthur, bro, that was great!" The guitarist, Alfred, shouted.
"Bravo, Arthur!" Smiled his quiet twin brother, Matthew, our Bassist.
"That was très magnifique, mon cher~!" Trilled our drummer, Francis. The backup guitarist/Bassist, Gilbert, who would normally be claiming his superiority, was actually agreeing.
"Thanks guys. I say we listen to the track in the morning. I'm beat!" I exclaimed, stretching. Everyone agreed, and soon the twins and Gilbert were gone, and I was cleaning up, with Francis bothering me.
"Mon Cher, how about we have a bit of fun~?" He asked, smirking.
"No. Frog, I'm tired as is, and I still have to pack up my guitar and your bloody drumset!" I said. Francis and I lived in the same apartment building, so he and I always went home together, and arrived to practice together.
"Please, Arthur?" He murmured, coming closer to me.
"F-Francis, we can't, you bloody frog!"
"Why not?" He whispered, his lips on my neck. I felt my resolve breaking quickly. He was a damn good kisser, and I hated him for it. He kept kissing my neck, pushing me into the soundproof recording room, neither one of us aware of the red light, meaning it was recording.

~===o}0{o===~

Francis drove us home that night, and the same things repeated, just on a bed. At first, we didn't think that the others would realize what had transpired less than 24 hours ago. How wrong we were.
"Alright, dudes! Let's listen to that cover from yesterday!" Alfred exclaimed, and ran over, pressing play. The song played as normal, and when it was over we all cheered. It sounded great. Then we heard voices. First was people leaving then a French accent and a British one.
"F-Francis, we can't, you bloody frog!" Said my recorded voice.
"Why not?" Murmured Francis on the recording. I felt my cheeks burn bright red as the recording played, all the others too stunned to stop it. Soon enough, my voice was moaning, and Francis' voice was groaning. When it was over with me cursing and moaning, Alfred laughed as Francis said, "shall we take this home, Cher?" And hearing a small yes from my recorded voice.
Alfred laughed even harder as he stopped the recording. "Dudes, that is freaky, doing it in a recording booth!" He laughed as my cheeks flushed bright red and Francis slunk back. "I mean, I knew you guys were into each other, but not that into each other!"
Suddenly, Gilbert spoke up, "I have an idea. How about we use this as a bonus track on the CD?" He smirked evilly, glaring at Francis and me.
"Hell no!" I shouted immediately, but Alfred, Gil, and even sweet Matthew were all agreeing that it should be used.
"We can call it 'Band Bonding, Francis and Arthur Style!" Chuckles the quiet twin.
"Yes!"
"No!" Francis and I shouted.
I glared at the Frenchman, "we are never doing that here again."

~===o{0}o===~

I stared at the back of our new album. As a final track was the title, "Band Bonding (Francis and Arthur)." I glared at my other band mates. They'd actually used it as a bonus track. "You goddamn bloody wankers!" I shouted and chased them. Let's just say no work was done that day either, and won't for a week thanks to Alfred's injured hand, Gilbert's injured leg, and Matthew's injured arm. Francis had helped me.

(A/N: ok, if I can think of a plot and stuff, I might consider making this a scene in a new fanfic where they're in a band. All I need is a plot and all that good stuff.)