INTRO

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

thanks to @thenaughtynun for giving me the motivation to write this

warnings: blow jobs, deepthroating, glasses kink, facials, slight hair-pulling,

nsfw below the cut :)

The first time James had seen Dave in those thin, wire-framed glasses that he used on occasion, he was enraptured. He looked like some kind of geek, like a computer programming nerd, though that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

It’s so tantalising, the way they perch on the bridge of his nose as he watches movies while sprawled out on their couch, and God, James never wanted to thank the divine more for myopia existing. His innocent adoration for Dave in glasses had soon enough morphed into something of an aching need to see his boyfriend utterly ruined in those specs. 

Come splattered across those delicate frames, lying low and crooked on his nosebridge. He’s have to wipe it off with his sleeve like some kind of dork cleaning his glasses, and somehow that thought was even more arousing than getting a blowie.

The thought took up most of the space in his mind, occupying most of his brain when he saw Dave walking around the house with them like a total slut. And James knows it isn’t his fault he looks so good in glasses, but it also kind of is, when he’s popping a boner every time he strolls past.

It was like a never ending hell of being turned on, unable to hide his very obvious arousal. God, it was torture, and Dave wasn’t even trying to be a tease (for once). 

It doesn’t help that Dave is very much an oblivious idiot, as well. So, whenever he catches James ogling his ass, he merely sends him a small grin, believing that he was being leered at because he was cute, not because of his glasses. Even worse, Dave always seemed to be wearing those damn glasses whenever they went somewhere together, the only time he took them off being in the car, where James couldn’t touch him..

It’s a late Sunday afternoon, and the two were currently relaxing at home, Dave settled into a comfortable looking sweater and his wire-frames,  scrolling through the TV channels. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration, and James found himself unable to keep his eyes from trailing down the bridge of Dave’s nose, his eyes fixated on his boyfriend’s glasses. 

“What the hell are you staring at, James?” Dave murmurs without looking up, not missing a beat in his browsing.

James grits his teeth. Dave was such an oblivious idiot, but that was one thing he loved about him, as contradictory as that seemed. It wasn’t even like Dave was being purposely ignorant of the fact that he was the source of James’s obsession this time.. he was just naturally slow on the uptake. 

“Nothin’…” James muttered, still not taking his eyes off Dave. His fingers tapped nervously on the leather of the couch between them, his eyes flickering to his boyfriend’s specs, under the guise of staring him in the eyes.

Dave didn’t seem convinced, though, and he turned his head to face his boyfriend, finally peeling his eyes away from the television. “You need something or what?”

James hesitates for a moment, considering if he should just tell Dave the truth, or if he should just lie. The thing was, he knew Dave wouldn’t be opposed, not at all, but he wanted to see what his boyfriend would say, even if they both knew he wouldn’t mean it. 

Still, he didn’t want to be too blunt. Dave could be a pretty sensitive guy, and James would rather not say the wrong thing. “I want a blowjob.” Of course, he’s throwing all his considerations out the window because he wants—no, needs—to ruin Dave in those terribly erotic spectacles.

Dave stares at him for a moment, a blank look in his hazel eyes before he broke into a small scoff, shaking his head. “What, are you horny, Het? Go jerk off. You don’t need to give me a shitty excuse to tell me you want me to suck you off.”

Damn it. Dave could read him like a book, of course he could. Still, despite the fact that he knew Dave was kidding, he still acted offended, pretending like he really was giving an excuse. “I mean, don’t put it like that, I just want some attention, dude, come on… I haven’t gotten any in days, y’know? Come on, baby, please?” He whines, leaning forward and rubbing against him like some sort of cat, trying to get his attention. “Help a guy out.”

“You’re pathetic, I hope you know that.” Dave says, but he can’t keep a smirk from his face and he tilts his head, letting James nuzzle against him for a moment. “Can’t go a couple nights without head? Jesus, what are you, a teenage boy?”

“It’s been more than ‘a couple nights’.” James mumbles, sounding like a petulant child at this point, his body completely pressed against Dave’s by now. He can feel his cock growing stiflingly hard in his jeans, and he lets out a soft huff, moving up to press kisses to the side of Dave’s neck. “Just really want you tonight.”

That’s a half-truth. But he’s not going to tell Dave the real reason he’s all wound up or he’d never those glasses ever again.

It seems to work, though, because Dave lets out a soft huff of a sigh, placing one of his hands on the back of James’ neck, his fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “Okay, fine, alright. Fine, you win, you needy fuckin’ baby...” He sighs to himself, eyes rolling, but the teasing words lacked any sort of heat to them.

As Dave slides off the couch to sink to his knees, there’s that trembling sense of anticipation in his gut. Finally, he’ll get what he’s been wanting to see for the longest time, and the thought is even more blissful that it should be. 

Nimble hands pull his pants down to his mid-thigh, one step closer to freeing his aching dick from its confines. Then, he peels James’ boxers away, letting his cock spring free, a flushed and angry red. James practically salivates as Dave tucks his hair behind his ears, shuffling closer to hover his mouth over James’ throbbing length.

When Dave brings his mouth down, letting James sheath himself in that tight wet cavern that is his mouth, his hand settling to tightly grip those brassy curls as Dave hollows his cheeks and bobs up and down, able to take him to the hilt with a practiced ease. He groans as the shaft pushed past his throat, James shudders at the vibrations, pleasure tingling up his spine.

“Jesus—shit, ah, fuck—!”

Choking on a moan, James uses the back of his hand to cover his mouth, almost embarrassed by the lewd noises he lets out freely. However, the sounds encourage Dave even more, and he once again takes all of him, drool stating to dribble down his chin obscenely. 

Warm lips wrap around his cock perfectly, as if they were practically made for him, tonguing the base of James’ length. His eyes flutter shut, stars exploding behind his eyelids at the sensations, because Dave’s too damn good at blowjobs and knows exactly what makes him tick. 

“Fuck—”

Tears prickle the ginger’s eyes, his throat beginning to feel raw with each stab to the back of his throat with James’ tip, a had reaching down to cup and fondle his balls. James draws in a sharp breath, his grip on Dave’s hair increasing tenfold. Dave’s fingers dig into his thighs, and it would be stingingly painful if not for the bouts of pleasure his boyfriend presents to him. 

James’ balls throb gently in Dave’s hands, the thick vein on the underside of his shaft pulsating, twitching in his mouth like it was waiting for something to push him off the edge, to be granted his orgasm. So he increases his efforts tenfold, doing everything in his power to make James come even faster, wanting nothing more than to swallow his load and get back to Breaking Bad. 

“Dave, Dave, please, I’m gonna—”

Dave hums in response, the vibrations drawing a cry of ecstasy from his partner. He can feel James’ cock thicken in his mouth, strangled sounds wrenching themselves from his throat. As the blonde is about to come, he pulls Dave’s lecherous mouth off him, shooting ropes of spunk over his face and glasses. Taken aback, Dave doesn’t exactly know how to react well. 

“You fucker, you got it on my glasses!” Shooting a nasty glare at James, Dave looks as debauched as he had imagined, specs slanted and coated in his come, his seed dripping down his face. The man merely shrugs in response, with really nothing more to say. Dave doesn’t take his glasses off but grumbles something about having to clean them under his breath, another about getting a facial in front of Jesse Pinkman, and the look of his very come-coated face with those wiry frames has James jumping to full hardness again. 

“Hey, Dave…?” He asks, leaving his question unspoken, voice oh-so meek. 

“Yeah, yeah, help me outta my clothes.”

Jason☹️ JASSSONNNN☹️☹️😭😭☹️ jason.. jassson.. ja… jaasson….jason… Jasoooonnn.. JASON☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ JAAAAAASOOOONNH☹️☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭☹️

HI AGAIN😍 Could you do Jason/Dave where Jason’s a megadeth groupie n Dave takes him backstage?? I love you btw pls never die🗣️

so sorry for the wait, also this was not proof read because i’m lazy so… hopefully there’s no bad errors.

LUCKY

1987

CW - teasing, riding, idk it’s pretty vanilla … but moves fast ;)

Dave’s had a bit of a crush on Jason. 

And, who can blame him? Jason was perfectly sculpted, like he was a marble statue. Perfect curves. Perfect face. An angel on earth. His smile expertly crafted by a god. 

It started when Flotsam opened for Megadeth just a few months ago. The two had talked about bands they enjoy, new albums and beer while smoking a hearty amount of weed. Jason’s weed was the good kind, the kind that made Dave’s mind  go fuzzy while thinking of all the ways he could make Jason blush like a tomato. Dave can recall how his eyes seemed to always land places they shouldn’t when he looked back as Jason. Or how Jason didn’t seem to mind. 

Ever since that night, he’s been keeping a close eye on Jason. Jase, as he’d call him. 

Jase wasn’t busy for the next couple weeks, lucky Dave. Their lead vocalist was apparently real sick and wouldn’t be able to perform for a while. With too much time on his hands, Jason spent it by practicing his bass and calling Dave. Jason’s pretty sure Dave’s got feelings for him, so hearing Dave get flustered over the phone was pretty entertaining for the brunette. And, as it turns out, Megadeth was going on another tour as Jason would find out on one of their calls. Not a very big tour, but Dave’s got an idea nonetheless. 

“I want you to come with.” Dave confessed over the phone. 

“…Come with? On the tour? For what?”

There was really no reason for Jason to go. He would just be tagging along, doing nothing but watching. And, Megadeth was great and all, but he wasn’t a diehard fan. But when he looks around his room, seeing the baggies of weed on the floor and the stray CD cases, he remembers how lonely he’s been these past couple of days. 

“I just want you there, okay? Do you wanna go or not?” Dave replies. There’s no true annoyance within him, but he makes it known he doesn’t want to debate forever.

Jason sighs. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come with. Put on some good shows for me, and I’ll pay you back.” 

He doesn’t specify what he’s gonna pay Dave back with. Weed? Beer? A blowie? Dave doesn’t ask, though he hopes for the latter. ‘Cause Jason’s got nice lips. Jason has nice everything, actually. Nice face, chest, hair, attitude, hands, legs, ass… Yeah. Dave’s screwed. At least he got Jason to agree to be a groupie.

“Don’t you worry about that. We’ll give you a damn good time.” Dave affirms. Jason can hear his smile through the phone. 

Jason smiles back, and hangs up. 

                  ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Dave’s more than right. Megadeth puts on a damn good show. Everyone played in perfect tandem with each other, every note and chord coming together to make flawless songs sound even better live. Jason even started to think like a fan did. He started thinking to himself things like “Wow, he looks even better up close!” Or “Damn, he looks hot as fuck like this!”

He really was like a groupie. 

It didn’t take long for him to not only fall for Megadeth’s whole discography, but Dave himself. Sure, he’d found himself intrigued by Dave after the first Megadeth show he’d seen. Spending more time with him and getting to see that sweet smile, though? It had his heart clenching. He was no different from Dave, finding himself absolutely smitten with the ginger. 

Dave was lucky he was pretty. And talented. Pretty and talented. But Dave could have any gay guy or straight girl he wanted, and he chose Jason, so perhaps Jason was the lucky one. Getting Dave Mustaine to fall in love with you was no easy task; the bassist wasn’t sure how he’d done it, but wasn’t complaining. And when Dave’s shredding, trying to focus, and still makes time to look Jason in the eyes while he’s in the crowd, he knows Dave really is in love with him. 

They meet eyes multiple times. There’s something in those hazel eyes of Dave’s that seems to be more than just focus or love. It takes a few moments to realize it’s lust. Jason almost doesn’t believe it, but it’s hard to deny when Dave’s shooting him intense looks every 10 seconds with a dark look in his eyes. Jason grips the railing harder. It’s their last song. The bassist knows Dave will go straight to him after they finish the melody, which happens to be Jason’s current favorite from Megadeth— Peace Sells. 

The ripping ending chords ring out, and cheers erupt from fans in the crowd. Jason finds himself smiling and cheering as well. Dave says his thanks to the crowd before the band makes a swift exit. 

Jason knows exactly where Dave wants him to go. 

The crowd starts to dissipate. Jason’s heart thumps in his chest, excitedly pushing through the crowd so he can greet and congratulate Dave and the band  on their amazing show. That boy was hyper, and it showed. Curly brown hair bounced as he ran while pushing through the crowd. Since he was close to the front, it didn’t take long for him to finally get to the stage. The closing music boomed through the speakers as Jason searched for the ginger.

A tap on his shoulder signaled that Dave had found him first. The bassist whipped around, startled, but immediately relaxed when he realized it was Dave. A small smile played on his thin lips, and his grey eyes stare into his hazel ones. Dave’s obviously sweaty and tired from the show, but that won’t stop him from doing what he does later. 

“You scared me, Dave.” 

“Did I, now?”

Jason smiles harder. Dave’s voice did that to him. 

“Yeah. Good show, by the way.”

Dave smirks. He’s got a cocky look on that smug face of his, ‘cause he knows he can give Jason an even better show backstage. If he’ll let him, that is. It shouldn’t be too hard to get into Jason’s pants. Dave can sense Jason likes Dave more than he lets on, and won’t have any more of that. The ginger wants to see Jason head over heels for him— not acting nonchalant. 

“Just good?” Dave asks.

“Pretty good.” 

“Just pretty good?”

“Alright, alright. It was an amazing show. That what you wanted to hear?” 

Dave laughs. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now get your ass backstage, groupie.”

Did Dave just really refer to him as groupie? Jason feels his cheeks flush a light pink at the comment. He isn’t sure if it’s from being a little offended, or if it’s from embarrassment. He has a name. Dave just wanted to tease him. Wanted to see that flustered look on his face before he snatched his hand and dragged him into a dressing room. 

Slamming the door, Dave’s eyes lock onto Jason’s. The bassist is understandably a bit confused and flustered. The broken fan in the corner spews a cranky, winded noise in a strange rhythm as the two share a quick moment of silence. Dave’s the first to speak up, noticing how Jason can’t tell if his body wants to tense or relax when Dave moves closer to him. 

“You have no idea how hard you were making it for me to focus.”

The guitarist has a lower voice than he did outside. Jason already knows the lust from earlier is seeping into his words. Like it never left. Because it didn’t— how were you supposed to keep it chill when you had the prettiest boy in the scene staring at you with stars in his eyes? Jason looked nothing short of beautiful and sweet. Dave wanted nothing more than to see him absolutely ruined. To see spit dribbling from his mouth and onto his white shirt. To see his cock hard and needy, all for Dave.

He couldn’t help the twitch in his pants thinking about what he wanted to do to Jase. 

Everything was moving so fast. One moment ago, Dave was playing guitar for hundreds of fans. Now, he was straining himself trying not to pounce on the bassist in front of him. He felt like a starved man looking at that sexy bastard and his pink, shy face. Surely he must know how hungry Dave’s been for him, right? Surely he knows. There’s no possible way for Jason to be oblivious to the fact that Dave would pay his life savings to get a piece of that ass. And yet here Jason is, saying he didn’t know. 

“I didn’t mean to make you lose focus.. I didn’t know.” 

Dave draws closer, the space between them becoming more and more blurred. 

“You sure, Jase? You seem like the type to tease.”

Dave lifts up Jason’s chin with his hand, boring his gaze into the other. Jason didn’t look away. He stared right back. The tension in the air rises, getting thicker. Jason feels his heart rate pick up and his cheeks start to warm. He hopes to god that things will go the way he thinks they’ll go. 

Jason’s lucky. 

Dave smashes his lips into the other’s. Jason doesn’t push back or fight it, just lets Dave take over and kiss him like a starved teenager. It gets messy; even a little painful, with how their teeth are clashing together accidentally. It’s uncoordinated and disorganized, but fuck if they both didn’t love it. Dave’s lips are all over that boy’s mouth, practically eating his face as they fall backwards on to the couch behind them, not missing a beat. 

To say Dave was good at making out was an understatement. If you liked it rough and dirty, you’d like it with Dave. Jason didn’t just like it rough. He loved it. He loved the way those pink lips smeared across his own. The way his teeth got in the way and his tongue slipped inside without a warning. Everything was a perfect concoction, ready to explode. Jason’s already twitching and getting stiff in his tight blue jeans as they clumsily make out. 

Spit threatens to dribble down Jason’s lip as his feels a warm hand on his thigh. He squirms, feeling Dave pull back for a moment and smirk against him. Jason’s chest rises and falls quickly and desperately. Dave’s got him wrapped around his finger, and he thought he would be the one in charge. The guitarist’s hand on Jason’s thigh squeezes lightly. His thumb makes small movements up and down his clothed leg, as if he were petting him, and deepens the kiss yet again. 

Jason whines, bucking his hips into nothing. Tight jeans once flat now have a noticeable, warm bulge, thanks to the brunette’s erection. Dave’s excited to give Jase what he wants; and he’s equally excited to give himself what he needs. The ginger’s also already worked up a full boner and can’t help keeping it away from Jason much longer. So, he pulls back, spit dripping from the guitarist’s lips, and looks at Jason with deep hunger in his eyes. 

“I’ve waited so long for this..” Dave rasps, his hands coming to undo his own belt. 

His fingers make fast work of the belt, which hits the ground with a clank. Jason’s leaned back on the beat up couch, watching in awe as Dave undresses himself hastily. It’s obvious to Jason that he’s needy and wants to waste no time at all, but he can’t say much. He’s just as desperate for the warmth and pleasure Dave’s gonna give them. And as Dave finishes removing his shirt, Jason feels his needs increase tenfold. The ginger smirks at the quiet whine that leaves Jason’s lips. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you feel real good soon.” Dave promised. 

“Please…” Was all Jason could croak out. 

Dave was left in only his boxers. A prominent tent proudly stands in his plaid underwear, showing off how much he could really grow. Jason stares. His staring doesn’t last. Dave’s already closing the distance between them again, this time, his clothed cock an inch away from the bassist’s. Jason’s breath catches in his throat and he attempts to push their cocks together, but Dave is quick to shove him back. Jason whines again, this time sounding more needy and defeated. 

“No. If you really wanna feel my dick against you, you’re gonna have to beg. Or I’ll just jack off in front of ya and make you watch.”

“B-but-“

“I don’t wanna hear your voice if you aren’t begging.” 

The brunette knows he’s serious. Jason’s got pride, but it fades away when he’s submissive like this. Jason isn’t usually put into submission this easily— but Dave is hot as hell and he wants to let him take over and make him feel good. His last bit of dignity is thrown away when he looks up at Dave with those big gray puppy eyes and starts to beg. 

“…Please.” Jason whimpers. 

“Please what?”

“Please.. fuck, please, Dave, please, let me rub against you, need it… need it so bad…”

Dave smirks. 

“Yeah? Is that right? Fine then. Go ahead, make yourself feel good.”

Jason wastes no time shoving Dave closer to meet cocks. His tip meets the other’s tip, earning a mutual groan from them both. They hump into each other, hips thrusting, and it doesn’t take long for Dave to get tired of Jason’s jeans. The friction of the rough fabric is nice, but when his cock is so tucked away, he can’t help but want more than what he’s offered. Pleasure rushes through them both for a short amount of time before Dave is nearly ripping Jason’s jeans off and tossing them to the ground before forcing both of their cocks out of their boxers. 

“Dave….”

Jason’s hand shakily creeps up to their two warm erections and presses them together with a smooth motion. Dave hisses, the palm and length of Jason sending a ripple of pleasure through him. A trembling exhale leaves Jason’s mouth and he begins jerking them off together. It starts slow, Jason taking his time getting the rhythm nice and steady. He might’ve mentally compared himself to a drummer keeping tempo like a dork if he wasn’t groaning and tensing from the feeling of jerking off his friend against him. 

Moans intertwine with moans and sweat starts to bead on their foreheads. Dave’s letting Jason work their pulsing erections together while also fucking into his palm. It’s about now when Dave realizes he didn’t lock the door— only slammed it shut when he was ready to drain Jason dry. This doesn’t stop him, though, as he lets his vocal cords only ring out in sweet moans instead of words telling Jason there’s a chance they might get caught. The thought surprisingly excites the ginger and he speeds up his hips, making Jason follow suit.

Jason’s free hand grips the back pillow of the couch, fingers digging deep, feeling pure bliss. Sure, he’s frotted with other guys before, but being with Dave makes it all the better. And Dave’s got an impressive length and girth, so rubbing against that feels like heaven. Jason thinks maybe he really could just die and ascend from how horny and pleasured he’s feeling, but all the sudden, Dave abruptly removes his dick from Jason. Jason cries out confused words, saying No, no, please— until Dave cuts him off. 

“Shhh, shh, stop your whining, just hold on. Lemme give you something better.” Dave coos. 

Jason watches as Dave reaches behind himself and pulls out a plug. Confused, he looks at the metallic plug, then back at Dave. The plug is covered in slick lube, like a whole bottle has been poured on it. Dave tilts his head, smiles, and tosses the plug. Jason can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“Did- did you really.. fuck, there’s no way..” Jason sputters. 

“Sure did, honey. I kept it in me the whole show.”

Jason’s mouth goes dry. He really kept that inside him? The whole time? In front of all those people? There’s no way. There’s no possible way, Jason thinks, but when Dave hovers over him, sticky lube from his hole dribbling onto Jason’s cock, he has to suspend his disbelief. The bassist isn’t really sure this is happening; this has to be some sort of wet dream. Dave Mustaine, yes, The Dave Mustaine, is ready to ride him into next week after keeping a plug inside of him for hours and preparing himself just for Jason. Fuck. Fuck, that’s really hot. 

“I….” Jason gulps. 

“Gonna keep staring, or should I put it in?”

“Please, god, put it in.”

And so he does. 

Dave carefully sinks onto Jason, wincing. His trusty plug kept him nice and stretched, but Jason’s got a big cock. Slowly but surely, he takes Jason to the hilt, and bottoms out. They both pant, chests heaving, and Jason gets zero warning before Dave lifts himself almost completely off before slamming back down and creating a brutal pace. The bassist arches his back and groans loudly. Warm, slick walls clench on to his dick as Dave shudders. Dave’s ass turns Jason into an absolute wreck within 10 seconds. 

“Dave, Dave, fuck, fuck!” He cries out. His hands find Dave’s shoulders and push downwards, helping Dave grind Jason’s tip against his prostate. 

Dave snickers, watching Jason fall apart in no time. Through his quiet giggles of amusement, his own sounds of pleasure began to seep through as Jason tries to aim for his prostate. He just barely nudges it a few times, which gets a particularly high pitched sound out of the guitarist. Dave finds Jason’s attempt at pleasuring him cute. Already trying to make Dave feel good, just like the good boy he is. Jason’s always been a sweet boy. Dave’s giggles die down and he softly smiles at the boy beneath him before readjusting. When Jason thrusts up into him now, he finds that special spot and hits it straight on. Dave stutters, a louder groan leaving his mouth, and Jason makes it a personal challenge to hit that spot with every thrust. 

The brunette’s dick rubbing against that bundle of nerve in Dave has him reeling, body trembling and thighs spasming. The big, bad Mustaine is nearly drooling over another guy’s dick inside of him. It should be embarrassing, because it’s wrong, Dave knows, but he can’t help himself. He can’t help his hips coming up and down, riding Jason like a damn horse. Dave mentally thanks himself for keeping the plug in. As much as he would love to feel those thick fingers prodding inside of him, he doesn’t think he would’ve been patient enough for prep. And, the occasional pleasure of the egg-shaped object was nice, even if it was embarrassing. 

But nothing compares to the feeling of Jason inside him. He didn’t think it would make him feel so euphoric, having the boy rut in him. Jason’s obviously feeling it too with how he’s moaning like a girl in a porn film. Long eyelashes on Jason’s pretty face flutter as he sweats and grinds. They’ve both had their way with plenty of girls before, but nothing is quite like having sex with the other. Nothing really compares to Dave’s soft, tight walls or Jason’s embarrassingly hot length. 

They’re both thankful they’ve got a piece of each other. Jason’s hands slowly move from Dave’s shoulders to claw at his back, making Dave moan a winded whimper from the back of his throat. His cock is hard and leaking, twitching as he slips up and down Jason’s erection. The sound of the room is disgustingly erotic from the combined noises of the two whimpering and moaning along with the slick noises of Dave’s hole moving against Jason— it turns Dave on so much that he bites his lip, screws his eyes closed, and before he knows it, cum is spurting out of his cock, all over Jason. 

The bassist nearly screams from the way Dave clenches around him when he cums, and immediately follows after him. Warm semen fills the ginger to the brim. The sticky substance squirts against Dave’s prostate, making him clench even harder, and Jason thinks his dick might break off from how hard he’s being squeezed. Nonetheless, it furthers both of their orgasms and brings them to even higher highs. 

After a few seconds, Dave collapses on top of Jason, cock still in his hole. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. He forgot about the loud booming music outside and the awkward noise of the fan, and he realizes he’s slowly being brought back into reality. Dizzy, Jason’s trembling hand slithers up to Dave’s hair and gives it a soft ruffle. 

“Please don’t let this be a one time thing.”

telling my kids kurt cobain was jesus christ

Gonna be honest I don't know what to caption this with lol but Jason gets surrounded briefly

hmo. james/dave arcane au. "you're /hot/, cupcake." do with that what you will. i've just been barrelling through s2 and your post abt it sparked something in my head.

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - 𝐒𝐨 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐁𝐞?

warnings: arcane au, dry humping, anal sex, riding, slight degradation, teasing, begging, whiny top James, power bottom Dave, orgasm denial, ambiguous ending

okay so this kinda follows the plot of s1 ep5 but like also doesn’t?? Idk man

James cringes at Dave’s sloppy eating—the dish was some kind of strange blue meat covered in a honey-coloured sauce. It smelled a little strange, but Dave acted like it was the best meal he’s had to date. 

“Oh, Jericho! Have I missed these…” Dave muses, and ‘Jericho’, the strange fish-humanoid merely garbled a response, cackling to himself. 

The redhead hums softly in an unspoken question, holding a piece of the fishy meat out to James. He cringes in response, responding with a curt, “No. Thank you.” Dave shrugs plopping the meat into his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “You’re missing out.” 

Exasperated, James pulls his hood to shield his face from Jericho in a feeble attempt to mama his identity. “Are you going to question him?” He hissed, blue eyes narrowing as they scan Dave’s happy-go-lucky demeanour. 

The Zaunite raised an eyebrow, as if he knew nothing of what he was asking. “About what? The meat?” Conveniently, Jericho scratches his ass right after that question. “Definitely not above board.” He shakes his head softly, scraping up sauce to coat another slice of meat. 

“Silco. His connections? Isn’t that why we’re here?” James can feel his blood pressure rise, because by Janna, this man is insufferable. Dave turns to face him, looking utterly irritated at James’ consistent prodding. “We’re here because I’m hungry. Do you know what prison food is like?” Hazel eyes scan the ex-enforcer. “No, of course you don’t.” 

He slurps up another piece of the tangy meat, and then another, as James begins to rant to him softly. “Unbelievable, I didn’t break you out of jail to eat…slop.” He stands, his hand gesturing around in a controlled, yet annoyed movement. “I knew this was a terrible idea! You don’t know anything, do you?” He growls, pointing an accusing finger at the ginger, who’s busy gulping down the remnants of the honeyed sauce from the bowl. 

Dave wipes his mouth with the bandaged back of his hand, ignoring James as he sighs in contentment. “Mm… Better than I remember.” He praised wistfully, and Jericho finally faces them, gibbering in whatever language it is that he spoke. He swings his butcher’s knife onto the slab of wood he uses as a knife block, taking Dave’s bowl and sliding a napkin towards him with another jabber.  

Dave picks up the corner of the napkin, eyeing the symbol on its underside. He gives a sideways glance to James, whose blue eyes widen in surprise. He slides the napkin into his crimson jacket, walking off as a silent beckoning for James to follow. 

Jericho looks at James expectedly with a toothy grin, and the blonde hums and returns an awkward smile before attempting to match Dave’s pace. He finally makes it to Dave’s side, whispering a soft, “What does the symbol mean?” Dave gives James a once-over, huffing as he blows a curl out of his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. It’s where we need to head to.” 

As they walk through the lanes, Dave pulls his hood up, his curls bouncing as they lay against the flat expanse of his chest. The Piltie trails behind him, scanning the scene with a little paranoia. He didn’t know what to expect down in the Undercity. 

Dave leads him through a myriad of alleyways and past what looks to be the black market, until they climb up a flight of stairs. Walking along a balcony overseeing the ground, Dave’s eyes are particularly drawn to a huge eye-like non sign that reads ‘The Last Drop’. The Zaunite pulls his hood back, resting his hands on the oxidised metal of the railing, and they watch as two big burly guards shove away a man who’s stirring up a ruckus.

Dave’s breathing speeds up, his brow furrowing as a soft ‘Hm’ escapes his lips. Hazel eyes lock into the building, his thoughts stirring in a mix of unadulterated anger and mourning.

Like the insensitive Piltie he is, James looks over his shoulder and scoffs ever so softly. “Well, that place does look like it has bodies buried in the basement.” That statement hits too close to home, and Dave clenched the railing as he exhaled raggedly. The metal creaks softly, and he pulls away, scowling as he shoots a glare at the blonde. “You don’t know anything.”

Dave roughly bumps into James’ shoulder, and he looks at the man’s fleeting figure. He frowns, not exactly sure what Dave’s problem was. Typical Zaunite behaviour is what he chalks it up to, before finally trudging after him, still pondering what caused such an outburst. 

Eventually, the pair reach a large, ornate door in the nook of an alleyway, bearing the symbol they had seen on the napkin. Dave raps against the door, and a small opening slides open, a big green eye peeking out to observe. James glances at the eye before facing down, his expression carrying surprise as he clears his throat. Dave meets the eye with a jerk of his head upwards, and the guard groans as it scans for anyone else. 

Satisfied, he closes the little window and unlocks the reddish door, revealing the long hallway down. It’s carpeted with velvet and smells like bergamot and frankincense, wicked laughter echoing through the hall. 

“The one place all the secrets are spilled.” Dave shoved his hands into his jacket’s pocket, beckoning James with a tilt to his head as he leads the way. Uptight, James follows, as if trying to make himself seem smaller. ‘Great,’ the Piltie thinks with a strange shiver going through him. ‘We’re in a brothel.’

They saunter past rooms, all decorated to the nines with plants, paintings, food and most of all, drugs made with shimmer. James averts his gaze, looking awkwardly side to side as his shoulders tense, sticking close to Dave. They can hear laughing and indistinct chatter, and his partner doesn’t seem even the slightest bit out of place. Perhaps he’s come here before, and that thought makes James’ stomach lurch with an unwelcome jealousy.

There’s soft jazz playing in the background, and James eyes a couple lounging in one of the room, sharing a puff of shimmer. A woman with a cat mask exhales the purple fumes, and a man in a goatish mask inhales it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. James nervously looks away, looking towards the other side of the hall, where there’s a couple bathing. 

He’s taken aback by the sight of them quite literally fucking in the bathtub, not caring for who saw them. “…Like a trumpet!” The man grunts with conviction, and the woman giggles, tracing down his body with a teasing finger.

He takes his leave and hurries after Dave, a soft blush blooming onto his skin. He raises a finger, trying to get his bearings. “How exactly do you propose we go about this?” He gulps, and a little humanoid elf thing hums as it walks past them in BDSM gear. Dave scoffs with amusement, turning to James as he tilts his head, motioning towards the humanoid. 

“Let them think you work here.” James’ head snaps up to meet his gaze, appalled. “Excuse me? I will not!” Dave sighs, backtracking towards James. “You know what your problem is?” James harrumphs, raising an eyebrow as he challenges. “Please. Tell me.”

Dave’s voice is soft, but still firm. “You expect everyone to give you what you want. If you really want people to talk to you, you have to let them think you have what they want.” He begins to circle the blonde, who gulps nervously. 

“And..what do I have?” He asks, following Dave’s movements as he turns his head, still quite the bit oblivious to what the strawberry blonde was implying. 

Eyes scan James’ form appraisingly, and Dave can’t lie, James is attractive. 

“You’re hot, cupcake.” 

He leans in way too close for James’ liking, walking him back into a wall, holding eye contact that’s too intense for him. A hand plants itself beside James’ head, effectively keeping him in place. He can see all the details of Dave’s face up-close, the small scars on his cheeks and brow, his ear piercings and the tattoo that creeps up his neck. Most of all, those peachy lips that are far too tantalising to resist. 

James flushes, incredibly embarrassed and turned on by the whole scenario. “So what will it be, man or woman?” Dave places his other arm on the other side of James, leaning in even closer. It’s a little funny given that Dave has to slightly look up to him, but nonetheless arousing. 

James tries to stutter out a response, and the ex-inmate raises an eyebrow, waiting. After a few more seconds of James gaping like a fish, they hear footsteps. Dave glances sideways and curses, taking it upon himself to drag James into one of the empty rooms in the brothel, ensuring that the door was locked.

James is shoved into the room, stumbling before he regains his footing and steadies himself, feeling a tad lightheaded. His heart is thrumming with something he can’t really understand, his chest heaving with sharp breaths as Dave leans against the door, crossing his arms loosely as he eyes him up and down.

Feeling quite intimidated, James steps further into the room, looking on at the plush blankets and pillows scattered about, all different colours of the rainbow. It’s rather eye-catching to look at, and it’s clear what this room is meant for.

“Uhm.” He clears his throat, trying to rid himself of the lump lodged in it. Dave’s gaze is still on him, and he can feel it burning into his back as he walks to the bed, sitting down onto the edge and placing his hands in his lap. He’s embarrassed by how red his face is, and he averts his face, staring intently at the gaudy patterns on the bedsheets.

Dave chuckles behind him, strolling over to where James is sat, his gaze scanning his form. “You know..” His tone is deceptively sweet, as he places a hand on James’ shoulder. The Piltie shivers slightly at just a mere touch, and Dave pushes on.

“For being the son of a councillor, you’re quite shy.” He mutters, eyeing the slit under the drapes where someone’s standing. Watching.

James clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to shove Dave away. That’s about the last thing he needs, and he’s not that naive. Although, the way Dave’s palm is beginning to wander down to his side isn’t helping. 

“I’m not shy..” He mumbles quietly, shifting a little closer to the edge of the bed. Dave hums thoughtfully, his free hand gently tipping up James’ chin and forcing the blonde to look towards him.

“No?” His thumb moves across James’ jaw, his eyes darkening. He takes in the sight of James looking up at him, and it’s oddly satisfying. The strawberry blonde can see the way his throat bobs when he swallows, his chest rising and falling with every breath. The faint flush on his cheeks and the way his eyes dart around nervously, almost like a caged animal. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this. 

Dave’s hand moves to the back of his head, gripping his hair and pulling him forwards, a knee slowly making its way between his legs.

“Wha—mmh!” James’ squeak is stifled by Dave’s other hand, pressing against his mouth firmly and forcing him to keep staring up at him. This is embarrassing and it’s making his head spin. The ex-con slowly pushes James onto his back, crawling on top of him and pinning his hands down. 

"Don’t fight it, cupcake.” Dave murmurs, his free hand travelling across the expanse of James’ chest.

James gasps silently, his heart beating in his throat. This is far too much for him, and Dave’s fingers are exploring his body with no reservations, and the blonde can’t find the will to push away. Dave presses himself against him, his hips rolling against his, his teeth grazing under his ear and James’ skin prickles.

He’s unable to control the way his body automatically reacts as Dave pushes against him, a small noise of pleasure muffled by his fingers. Dave makes a noise of amusement, feeling the way the blonde is squirming under him. 

“God. You’re so squirmy, aren’t you?” Dave murmurs into his neck, nipping and sucking at the skin, leaving behind little marks as he goes. He keeps his hands pinned down as he continues to tease him, his knee still pushed between his legs.

Dave leans in even closer, whispering just above a breath. “Someone’s watching us. Play along.”

James’ eyes widen, his breathing hitches as he realises what Dave’s implying. Play along. Yeah, easy enough. Not. He’s trying to resist the moan slipping from his lips, but Dave’s making it so difficult for him. His body is betraying him, arching into every touch and shiver against his skin, and he hates how good it feels. The warmth pooling in his lower abdomen is becoming unbearable, and it doesn’t help that Dave’s still moving against him, grinding their hips together. 

He looks up, and he realises that they are, in fact, being watched. A pair of beady greyish eyes reflect through the gap in the curtains. Metal glints in their grasp, and James is now acutely away of the gun in their hand, hence Dave’s strange behaviour.

Dave continues to kiss and suck marks into his skin, his hands sliding over his body to his hips, slowly moving them in a small circle and rubbing against his crotch. That makes James let out a high-pitched whine, and Dave can’t help but chuckle as he presses down harder, drawing a gasp from the Piltie, who throws his head back, revealing his pale neck. 

Dave takes the opportunity to start sucking at the flesh, leaving a series of kisses down the expanse of his neck for show, all the while, the figure watches them, expression unreadable. Dave eyes the figure out of the corner of his eye, and even when they make eye contact, the person doesn’t leave. 

James is starting to get lost in the sensation, barely taking notice of the figure staring at them. He’s more focused on the way Dave is working his mouth down his neck and collarbone, sucking, biting and licking at his skin. His breath stutters as Dave’s lips latch onto that one spot, sucking so harshly that he’s sure it’s going to leave a huge bruise later on. 

He suddenly feels Dave’s hips still, and the strawberry blonde murmurs into his skin. “They’re still watching.”

James’ eyes widen as his brain finally catches up to him, and he realises why Dave’s words make his stomach churn in a very unpleasant way. He’s still pinned down, his hands restrained above his head with Dave sitting on his hips, looking utterly disheveled. 

He swallows as he glances towards the figure, who hasn’t stopped staring. “How long are they going to continue?” He murmurs, fighting to keep his voice steady, and Dave just shrugs, his mouth back on his chest and working another mark onto his skin. “Just play along until they leave.”

Dave’s biting and sucking up and down on his chest, and he’s sure that he’s going to have quite the collection of lovebites later on. It’s embarrassing how worked up this is getting him, and he’s trying his best to hold back the noises from leaving his lips. Despite this, a small gasp escapes as Dave pushes against him, rolling their hips against each other. 

The figure is still in their place, eyes watching every single movement. This is both terrifying and humiliating, and James can’t decide which it is at this point.

Dave’s hands slide from his hips to his thighs, gently pushing them apart so that he can get in between, grinding against him. James lets out a shaky breath, his legs moving to wrap around Dave’s waist of their own accord. Dave doesn’t seem to mind, making some sort of guttural noise as he leans up to press a kiss onto his lips, the first actual kiss in this whole situation. 

James can’t help the noise of surprise that escapes him, and he’s shocked when Dave uses the opportunity to push his tongue into his mouth. Oh Janna.

Dave’s tongue is in his mouth, licking and sucking into him, and it’s embarrassing how fast and how hard James is getting. Dave’s own hips are rubbing against him, and the blonde can’t quite tell if it’s for show or if Dave actually enjoys this. But he’s getting lost in the sensations, his legs wrapping tighter around the strawberry blonde’s hips, drawing them in closer together. 

James’ back is arching, his mouth open and letting out soft sounds of pleasure. Everything feels good, even if it’s being watched.

Dave’s hands are wandering up and down his body, his tongue still exploring the inside of his mouth, and James is pretty sure he’s going to die if it doesn’t stop. But he doesn’t actually mind if it doesn’t stop, he’s enjoying it quite a bit. The only thing he can’t stand is the staring. He’s trying not to look, but it’s in his line of sight and it’s making his skin burn just a bit hotter. They’re pretending to actually be at the brothel for sex, not…whatever it is Dave has planned.

Dave’s hands run over his hips, his mouth still on his own, and the blonde is feeling a tad lightheaded as Dave begins to bite at his lower lip. He can barely think, his mind all hazy with pleasure that he’s is drawing from him. His body seems to move on its own, grinding against Dave’s in all the right ways. 

He’s starting to let out soft moans, and he suddenly realises that the figure is no longer in their spot by the door. It’s only him and Dave, alone together. Satisfied, the ginger pulls away, straightening out his shirt.

James is still in a daze as Dave gets off of him, panting for breath. It takes a few moments for his sight to clear, and when it does, he’s suddenly all too aware of the silence in the room. He gulps, sitting up and staring at the ginger, trying to find the right words to say. He can still feel how his lips still tingle with the ghost of Dave’s touch. 

“Did it work?” His voice is a lot raspier than he expected, and Dave glances over, a lazy smirk on his face. “Of course it did. Now get up, we have information to gather.”

James lets out a small noise of annoyance. “You used me as bait.” 

He’s still a bit annoyed and lightheaded, but he quickly pulls his clothes back into place and stands up, running a hand through his messy hair to try and bring it back into some sort of order. 

Dave snorts, rolling his eyes. “Well, yeah. But it got results. You’re just a good enough actor for it.” He takes a few steps closer, reaching up to pat his hair back down. The touch is gentle, and James hates how it makes him shiver. “This isn’t fair.” 

The Zaunite raises an eyebrow, half-amused. “What isn’t?”

James’ gaze is avoiding Dave’s as he gestures somewhat vaguely. “You just…you get me all hot and bothered and then you just stop like that. It’s not fair. You use me like some sort of doll.” His voice almost comes out like a whine, and he hates how whiny he probably sounds. 

Dave scoffs, his smirk turning into a grin as he moves in even closer, backing James up against the wall. “What, did you expect me to properly fuck you?”

James’ breath hitches at his bold words, and he feels himself lean back against the wall, looking up as Dave cages him in with his arms. A flush is back on his face, and he’s trying to form a response when his mind goes completely blank at what Dave just said. The strawberry blonde looks far too pleased with himself as he lowers his head, his breath fanning over James’ ear. “Is that what you want, cupcake?” 

James’ brain has apparently imploded, because the only response he can give is an embarrassingly needy whine.

Dave doesn’t get a response, but the small whine he lets out is far too sweet and appealing to him, and he’s already got an unfair upper hand on the Piltie. He knows he’s already got him in the palm of his hand as he leans in, murmuring into his ear. “Since you whined so nicely.” He’s taunting, and the blush on the Piltie’s face is so damn adorable that it has his stomach twisting.

James lets out a gasp as he hits the bed, bouncing slightly before sinking into the plush blankets. He feels oddly exposed as he watches Dave crawl onto the bed, a lazy smirk on his face as he positions himself over the Piltie. He’s pinning him down again, and James can’t help but let out a small whine, his hips bucking of their own accord. 

“Let’s make this quick, yes?” Dave mutters, his calloused hand roaming down the length of his body.

Dave’s hand is trailing over his stomach, the rough skin of his palm leaving a trail of fire behind it. James can feel the heat pooling in his lower stomach, and he’s trying to keep his breathing even as the ginger’s hand stops at his pants, toying with his belt buckle. 

He whines, his hips arching into the touch, and Dave chuckles, the sound low and mocking. “Damnit,” the blonde mutters, his breath shaky, “stop playing around.”

Dave clicks his tongue as he slowly undoes the buckle, tugging the belt out of the loop. “Hush.” He wastes no precious time pulling his pants off, and James is trying not to squirm and whine as the bastard purposely avoids the place he really wants his touch. 

He’s embarrassingly hard and leaking in his boxers, his clothes in a messy bundle around his ankles. “Please, I don’t want to wait—” Dave tuts, shushing him once more as he sheds his own pants, climbing to straddle James’ lap. “I’ll make this quick.”

Dave’s in his lap now, straddling him. It’s a sight that James can’t quite get used to, especially as the ginger slowly starts to roll his hips. The friction between them is painfully blissful, and James has to bite back a moan. Damn bastard for making this hard. 

“Bastard,” he gasps, trying to keep his breathing steady, “do something other than just sitting there.”

Dave raises an eyebrow, the look on his face far too smug as he rolls his hips again, his own erection pressing against James’, and he can’t hold back the sound he lets out. “You’re desperate,” the ginger murmurs, reaching over for a bottle of oil in a clear glass, “poor you. Must be so repressed by Mummy, hm?”

Dave keeps humping against him, the friction almost driving James mad, and it’s making it so difficult to speak. But the neediness wins, and he manages to form a short sentence. “Get on with it, dammit—”

Dave laughs, and James’ heart flutters slightly at how breathless he sounds. It only flutters for a second before Dave uncorks the oil bottle, and now his fingers are slicked up, and James doesn’t know what’s gonna happen. But he’s guessing he’s about to find out when Dave moves back, his hand moving behind his back. 

He’s confused for a moment, until he realises what he’s going to do. “Oh,” he mutters, eyes widening as he watches Dave reach his hand backwards, shuddering a gasp as he preps himself. Janna, James wishes he could bear witness to the sight, but Dave works quick, hovering above him while pouring a generous amount of oil onto his palm.

The ginger’s hand is now coated in slick oil, and James’ breath hitches as Dave takes his hand away, now resting it on James’ hip while the other braces against his shoulder. Dave leans down, hovering above him, and the Piltie can’t help but shiver as Dave murmurs into his ear. “Ready, cupcake? I’m not gonna wait for you to stop whining for one second.”

James nods, and he’s about to respond with a snarky remark when Dave sinks down, his tongue suddenly lost as a gasp tears from his throat. It’s almost too good and too much all at once, overwhelming him to the point where a whimpering moan is all he can manage as the ginger sits in his lap. 

He’s gripping Dave’s thighs, his nails digging in as the man above him adjusts and shifts, his breath coming in gasps. “H-Holy-”

It’s all he can get out, his brain is fuzzy, and he’s feeling every single damn thing like it’s being heightened. He can feel every single shift and shiver, the way Dave clenches around him, the way the ginger is panting, as well as his own breathing, short and ragged and desperate. 

James has his head thrown back, his eyes closed and his grip almost painful as he whimpers, trying to hold back the moans. dave is riding him, and it’s all that matters in this moment. His nails dig into the soft flesh of his thighs, and he’s lost in the sensations of it all. 

Dave merely scoffs, chalking James up to being a virgin, or lacking any sexual expertise. “You better not come before I do, cupcake.” James can’t tell is he’s joking of if he’s joking around, but he doesn’t want to know. 

Everything feels like it’s on fire. James can’t think straight, but he thinks he responds with a whimper and a small nod, which is better than nothing. There’s too much to feel, and his brain can’t keep up with the overwhelming amount of sensations. He can’t form a single coherent thought, his mouth just producing a stream of desperate gasps and moans. 

Dave is above him, riding him like he was made for it, and James doesn’t know how long he’ll last at all. His body is practically vibrating, his hands shaking as his head is leaned back, eyes squeezed shut. “H-Holy-” it’s the only word he can currently get out, his thoughts fuzzy. All he can feel is the heat coiling in his stomach, building up more and more with each movement, lost in the way that Dave is riding him, bouncing in his lap with a wicked smirk on his face that has his stomach flipping.

Dave is still riding him, driving him wild. The sounds coming from the Piltie are absolutely sinful, little gasps and moans that are like music to the ginger’s ears. Even so, he’s still trying to taunt and tease, leaning down so he’s closer to the man’s ear. “I don’t think you’re gonna be able to last very long. Poor you, not getting any action up in the fancy city, hm?”

James whimpers softly, his breathing ragged as he tries not to let himself go over the edge yet. Damnit, he doesn’t want Dave to have that privilege of being smug and correct. Not when he’s the one getting ridden to the moon. 

“I-I’m trying…” he mutters, opening his eyes just enough to glance at Dave, who has a smug smile on his face, the bastard. “D-Don’t look at me like that—”

Dave laughs a little, rolling his hips harder and grinding down, earning a sharp whine between the gasps and moans, the way the Piltie was coming apart was incredible. But he can see that James is struggling to hold on, the way his body is shaking and trembling, practically vibrating. 

“Come now, you can’t keep yourself together?” He asks, mockingly curious. “You really must have been suffering up topside.”

James shivers a groans, his hands tightening their grip on Dave’s thighs, trying to keep himself grounded and hold on for just a bit more. If he gives in now, it’ll give Dave all the ego boost in the world. He’ll never live it down.

He looks up at the ginger, looking for an insult, but nothing comes to mind. Everything is fuzzy, except for one thing. The snarky bastard isn’t looking too composed himself. “You…you look pretty close.”

Dave’s breath hitches for a moment, a brief flash of surprise on his face. Damn him for catching onto that. But still, he scoffs, his hand reaching out to grip James’ chin tightly, fingers pressing into his jawline. “How about you shut that pretty mouth before I stuff my underwear into it?” The threat is honestly deeply arousing, and Dave mutters a quick curse, head tipping forward as he tries to gain his bearings, but the way James’ tip is consistently prodding at his prostate at the right angle has him nearly drooling.

The thought of Dave going through with that threat has his breath catching in his throat, a small, desperate sound escaping his lips. Even so, he still manages to regain a bit of his composure, trying to match Dave’s boldness and keep going. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” The Piltie is barely getting the words out, his chest heaving. “You think I’m pretty?”

Dave scoffs, but the small noise he lets out is a definite tell of just how much of an effect James is having on him, and it’s fueling the Piltie’s ego again. “No, I think you’re a whiny bastard.” He mutters, although the words are far too breathy to be taken seriously, his chest heaving as he leans in, resting his forehead on James’ shoulder. “But you’re a pretty good, I’ll give you that.”

The words make James shiver, the praise going straight to his head. And to his dick, which is still being used and bounced on like a toy by the ginger. He’s still a whining, whimpering mess, and he’s desperate to hold back and not let go just yet. James watches as Dave’s face scrunches up, head leaned back against the bed as he gazes at the ceiling, the sound of the headboard of the bed thumping against the wall. 

Strong thighs tremble around James’ middle as Dave comes, white spend splattering conveniently over where his shirt had ridden up. He seizes tight around James, choking out a half-moan-half-whimper, trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Wasting not a single second to bask in the afterglow, he slides off James’ dick, reaching for his discarded underwear. 

James is left reeling as Dave gets off him, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. He’s trying to process all of the things that just happened, his head spinning and his entire body feeling on fire with the overload of sensations. Dave is already back in his pants, straightening his clothes and trying to tame his messy hair. 

“I didn’t come!” James hisses in protest, sitting up, feeling his cock throb with need. Dave gives an unsympathetic shrug, tossing him his clothes. “Too bad.”

Dave doesn’t look the slightest bit guilty, and the damn bastard is just as smugly self-satisfied as James knew he would be. The ginger glances down at his pants as he buckles his belt, his expression still infuriatingly smug and proud of himself. 

“Better figure something else out to amuse yourself.” He mutters, taking another second to fix his hair to his liking before glancing back at James, his gaze going up and down his disheveled form with a final smug smirk, already half-out the room. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, cupcake. We have shit to do.”

Hiiii, friend! I say that your requests are open! 😉 I would really love if you could write a one shot of young, baby Lars wearing lingerie for older, silver haired daddy James? 🥵🥵 Thanks in advance!

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 - 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭

warnings: lingerie, age gap, fingering, anal sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, slight size difference, literally ripping panties off

nsfw under the cut :)

Lars scans his body in the mirror. He looks good, clad in lacy white lingerie. He’d done a little bit of online shopping a while back, and this particular set he had ordered had come in just in time for James’ birthday. The old man deserved a gift for treating Lars so well, pampering him and funding his lavish lifestyle.

There’s the familiar sound of boots tapping against the tiling of their house, one that Lars has associated with James. 

Hurriedly, the brunette scurries to hide behind the door to surprise his boyfriend. Less than a few seconds later James opens the door, expecting to see Lars waiting for him.

James lets himself inside his room, and he takes a couple of steps in. He notices that Lars isn’t waiting out for him on the bed like he usually is, and is about to wonder where he is before Lars pounces on him from behind the door.

Lars covers James’ eyes with his much smaller hands, tiptoeing and giggling as he asks: “Guess who?”

James chuckles. “Well, I wonder who it could possibly be,” he ponders dramatically as a smirk forms on his face, his hands coming up to rest on top of Lars’ ones covering his eyes.

“Might be… a squirrel? Or a jerboa?” He guesses, just to joke around as his fingers slide around Lars’ wrists in an effort to pull his hands away from his eyes.

Lars gasps in faux offence. “Jerboa? Squirrel? Seems I dressed up all nice just to be insulted.” He harrumphs, a pout on his peachy lips.

James laughs loudly at Lars’ reaction, amused by his boyfriend’s offended tone. He finally succeeds in removing Lars’ hands from his eyes, and turns around to face Lars, only to freeze once he sees the man’s current outfit.

Then, he lets out a low and approving whistle. “Damn, you’re gorgeous,” James breathes out, checking the younger man out from head to toe. “Is this my present, you little minx?”

“Happy birthday, old man.” 

Chuckling at Lars’ cheeky comment, James hums in acknowledgment before wrapping his arms around the smaller male and pulling him flush against his body. “You’re the only good thing to come outta turning sixty,” James murmurs, a wolfish grin on his handsome face.

“Mm,” he muses, eyeing the younger man’s scantily clad body admiringly. “You’re lookin’ damn good in that,” He comments, his large, calloused hands rubbing up and down Lars’ sides and down to his hips, eventually landing on his ass, where they give it a firm squeeze.

Lars moans, hands trailing down James’ broad chest. The older man teases the Dane by bringing his other hand to toy with the garter belt, snapping it against Lars’ hip.

“Look at this, you little minx,” James drawls, his voice rough and low, the same way it gets whenever he’s riled up. “Wearing all of this, lookin’ like a present for me to unwrap. Guess it’s my birthday everyday in this house,” He muses, his rough hands slowly roaming up and down the smaller male’s body, touching all over, admiring all the soft, smooth curves and planes of his pale flesh.

James begins to nip and kiss at Lars’ neck, the older man’s beard scraping against Lars’ skin. “You should dress like this all the time, baby,” He mutters against Lars’ nape, his teeth occasionally nipping at the soft flesh. “It’d be quite a sight,” He adds with a low chuckle.

“Yeah?” Lars grins, carding through James’ short silvery waves. His hands slide down to James’ neck, caressing so gently, his palms so soft compared to James’ coarser ones.

James hums in affirmation, mouthing along Lars’ collarbones. “Mhm. I wouldn’t mind it at all if you walked around the house like this,” He mumbles, his hands continuing to roam around Lars’ small, lithe frame, squeezing and admiring the supple flesh.

“You’re pretty excited, eh, old man?” Lars says with a smirk, and he can definitely feel how excited James is, all because of him. “I take it you like your birthday present, then?”

James grunts. “Oh yeah, I’m definitely lovin’ my present. Best present I’ve gotten all day,” He quips, his large, rough hands still roaming all over the smaller man’s frame. “You definitely know how to keep daddy happy, don’t you, sweetheart?” He teases, his facial hair brushing against Lars’ nape.

“I try my best,” Lars replies, shuddering under James’ touch, the older man’s rough stubble scraping against his sensitive skin. His nimble fingers find their way to James’ shirt buttons, undoing them with ease, revealing the older man’s toned chest. He’s still so gorgeous even in his senior years.

James feels the smaller man’s hands undoing his shirt and he grins at Lars. “Eager, are we?” He teases, the feel of Lars’ nimble hands pulling off his shirt already arousing him.

He lets Lars pull off his shirt, discarding the offending fabric to the side and letting it crumple on the floor. “You little minx, always so impatient,” James murmurs, large arms wrapping around Lars to hold him close.

“It’s my fault you’re so sexy, old man,” Lars replies with a teasing smile, slim arms winding around James’ broad torso. He can’t reach all the way around, damn him. He does, however, take the opportunity to touch and feel the older man’s pecs and abs, tracing the once defined muscles with his thumbs.

James hums in approval, his own arms keeping Lars close against his bare chest, his hands settling on the small of the younger man’s back. 

“You’re not a bad sight yourself, baby,” He says, gazing down at Lars, taking in everything: Lars’ sweet, pretty face, his slender figure, those lacy little panties… James’ thoughts are starting to run wild, his eyes glinting deviously.

He moves his hands lower down, large palms resting on Lars’ ass, fingers gripping the flesh and squeezing it. “My pretty little sugar baby,” he chuckles, and Lars can’t help but shudder under his deep, velvety voice. “Did you do all this for me? Just for my birthday?”

The question is rhetorical, but Lars still nods as a response, grinning at James. “Yeah. All for you,” Lars purrs, and it never fails to arouse the older man when Lars speaks so sultrily.

“Mmm,” James hums, biting at Lars’ jaw. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel young,” He murmurs against Lars’ ear, his grip on the younger man’s ass tightening. “And the only thing that gets you hard?” James merely scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Lars laughs as James pulls him towards their bed, tossing him down like he’s weightless. Lars’ tiny frame hit the mattress and his laughter morphs into a huff the moment he does. 

He glances up at James from below as the older man looms over him, crawling on all fours like a predator on top of its prey. “Still got a lot of energy for a sixty year old,” Lars teases.

“Damn right I do,” James grins, settling himself in between Lars’ legs, his large, calloused hands sliding up Lars’ smooth thighs, fingers tracing the lace garters. His gaze darkens, looking at his lover beneath him, all dressed up just for him.

“You gonna take it off?” Lars goads, but that’s far from what James wanted.

“Oh no,” He chuckles, his large hands sliding up to rest on the younger man’s waist and giving it a light squeeze, big thumbs rubbing circles against his pale skin. “No, I like it on you, sweetheart.”

“I want you to keep it on for a while,” James continues, a sly smirk forming on his handsome face. His large hands begin to slowly, very slowly, and teasingly, slide up Lars’ thighs again.

Lars lets out an involuntary gasp, feeling James’ rough palms touching his sensitive skin. The younger man lets his legs fall open a bit wider, a silent invitation for James to go on. And James is more than willing to accept.

James lets his hands wander higher, now tracing the expanse of Lars’ stomach and up to his chest, before finally settling on the lace covering his pectorals. His thumbs brush over the pebbled, pert nubs hidden under the lace, the action making the younger male shiver.

“Pretty little thing,” The older man murmurs, his rough hands gently caressing the sensitive buds, his touches firm and deliberate. Below him, Lars whimpers, hips arching up to meet James’ touch.

“James, please,” Lars whines, writhing under the older man’s touch, slender leg wrapping around James’ hip. “Please, don’t tease me.” He looks up at James through his lashes, his eyes big and dark, his mouth parted in a pretty little o-shape.

James can’t help but chuckle at Lars’ needy plea, but he does stop the slow, torturous touching, for now. He reaches over to his bedside table and opens the drawer, rummaging around inside until he pulls out a bottle of lube.

“Good,” Lars whispers, watching as James uncaps the bottle and pours a decent amount onto his palm. The brunette sucks in a shuddering breath when he catches sight of the thick, calloused, and large fingers now coated in lube, and it doesn’t take much to guess what’s next.

What he doesn’t expect is James reaching down and ripping the gusset of his panties off in one swift move. 

He’s startled by the sharp, sudden action, and he lets out something between a gasp and a yelp, his eyes wide as he looks down at his now ruined underwear, now with a decent sized slit in the material.

“Those were expensive, old man!” Lars protests, but is quickly cut off as James shushes him, fingers now rubbing against his exposed hole. “I’ll buy you some new ones, baby,” James mutters, and Lars lets out a groan, forgetting all about it.

Lars doesn’t mind having his expensive lace panties torn, if he’s being honest. It’s not like James can’t get him new ones anyway, and he can’t deny how hot it is being treated like this, like he’s a doll whose sole purpose is to be treated with care yet broken in the most delicious way.

“Damn, you’re so good for me, sweetheart,” He drawls, finger slowly working into Lars. “All dressed up just for me, in these pretty little things,” He continues, adding another digit to the first. “You know I’m not gonna be gentle tonight, don’t you?” 

Lars gasps, arching up into the thick fingers buried inside him. “Y-yeah,” He groans, his small hands gripping the sheets. “Ah, y-yeah, I know, Jamie.”

James huffs in response, his fingers working the younger man open, preparing him. “M’ gonna have a real good time tonight,” He mutters, and Lars can tell by the older male’s tone that he’s not going to be walking easy by the end of this.

“You’re taking it so well, baby,” James praises as his fingers begin scissoring to stretch the tight ring of muscles, “So good for me, aren’t you?” He leans down to kiss the younger man’s collarbones as his fingers press in up to the first knuckle, and Lars whines, eyes screwing shut.

“Daddy,” He whines, back arching and legs spreading wider, “Please...”

James hums, eyes dark and swirling with lust, and he just loves when Lars him by that name. “Please what, sweetheart?” He purrs, his other hand caressing Lars’ thigh and up to his hip.

“Please, want you in me, daddy, please,” Lars whimpers, one hand reaching out to grip james’ firm arm. The older male grins, pleased by the needy, wanton sound of Lars’ voice.

“Patience, sugar,” He drawls, still patiently working Lars open. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

The older male leans down to bite and suck at Lars’ neck, and the younger man mewls at the sensation of James’ rough facial hair scraping against his sensitive skin. His eyes are half-lidded and glazed over, pleasure coursing through his body, and it only escalates as James’ fingers brush against his sweet spot once, twice, three times.

“James,” The Dane gasps needily, “Please, I’m ready, daddy, I—“

“You think you’re ready for me already, darlin’?” James asks with a smug smirk.

He curls his fingers, hitting the spot he knows makes Lars writhe and cry. And, right on cue, the younger male gasps, brow furrowing as his hips buck.

“F-fuck,” Lars cries out, arching and writhing. “No, I-I need you, daddy, please,” He whimpers.

James can’t resist anymore, Lars’ pleading and begging going straight to his already hardened cock. “Yeah, think you’ve been waiting for me long enough,” He mutters, pulling out his fingers and sitting up. He quickly undoes his belt, unfastening it and throwing it off the bed.

Lars watches him, watching James unbutton his pants and pull them down, along with his boxers. Even at sixty, James is a sight, his muscular thighs and broad shoulders still defined, although they’d lost a little bit of their size in recent years. But Lars still thinks he’s the sexiest man to have ever existed on the planet, and he says just that.

“Sexy old bastard, still sexier than all these young hot, skinny guys you see these days,” He mutters, gazing at the older man.

James chuckles, taking the comment as praise. “Damn right I am,” He grins gruffly, now grabbing the bottle of lube and pouring out a good amount onto his hand, coating his leaking cock. “No skinny little brat could give you what I give you, could they, baby?”

“Mm, no, they couldn’t,” Lars mumbles, watching with wide eyes as James coats his length with the lube, pumping it slowly. “Only you, daddy. Only you,” He adds, as if it’s a sin for him to look at another man the way he looks at and worships James.

James hums, pleased, and he moves between the younger man’s spread legs, looming over him. A small shiver of anticipation runs through Lars’ body, and he bites his lip as he watches James line up with his pink, twitching hole, pressing against it.

“You’re always so good for me, sweetheart,” He murmurs, big hands resting on Lars’ lithe hips and large chest hovering over Lars’ smaller frame. “Pretty, perfect sugar baby… I’m the only man you look at, right?”

“Yes, daddy, you’re the only man I look at,” Lars says, his hands gripping James’ forearms. He’s already panting, just from the feel of the tip against his entrance, and he can’t help but whine in anticipation for what’s coming next.

“P-please, Jamie, want it,” He whimpers needily.

“Mmm, I know you do,” James muses with a smug grin. “You’re always so eager for daddy, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

The silver fox can’t resist teasing the little minx by simply rubbing his leaking tip against the younger man’s tight, pink entrance. “Only I get to touch you like this, yeah? Only me.” James purrs.

“No one else but you, just you,” Lars gasps, eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. He can’t help but squirm a bit, the feeling of the leaking tip against his sensitive hole making him shiver.

James grins, giving Lars one final, long kiss before finally, slowly, pushing into the younger man, and they both let out moans.

“Dammit, you’re tight…” James groans, 

Lars moans lowly as he feels James pushing in, and his hands come up to grip the older man’s forearms. The older man’s size makes his legs tremble as he tries to adjust to the stretch, his breaths coming out in short, shaky gasps.

“James,” he whimpers, and his hands slowly move up to clutch at his shoulders.

“You’re doin’ s’good, sweet boy,” James murmurs, the words almost mumbled into Lars’ neck. His hands move to Lars’ waist, grip firm but not rough, holding the younger man’s hips steady. “Feel so good around me, baby…”

He moves his arms to rest on either side of Lars, his hands now gripping the headboard as he takes in the absolutely gorgeous sight: Lars looking up at him, eyelashes clumped together, lips parted and gasping, cheeks flushed red. Damn, he feels like the luckiest man in the world.

“Mmm…you okay, darlin’?” He asks. Lars nods wordlessly, still getting used to the aching sting of being stretched just how he likes. After a few seconds, the younger man slowly, tentatively, rocks his hips, wordlessly encouraging James to move.

So James does, bottoming out and pulling out until his tip remains, and then repeats that again and again until Lars is begging for him to move faster.

“Fuck,” Lars gasps, his hands now clawing at James’ toned back. “Feels so good, daddy, so good,” He slurs, the slight burn of the stretch slowly morphing into sweet, aching pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” James asks, shifting his position slightly and angling his hips in a way he knows makes Lars cry out. His tip prods at Lars’ prostate so decadently, each thrust carefully calculated to bring him the most amount of pleasure.

He watches the reaction that follows—Lars’ body arching, his back curving and arching, and his hands clutching frantically at James’ back, letting out a broken cry and the brunette nods frantically.

“F-fuck,” Lars gasps, his legs wrapping around James’ back and drawing him closer, closer. “There, there, please,” Lars pleads, and James chuckles in response, continuing to aim at the younger man’s sweet spot.

“Right there, huh, little sugar?” James murmurs, continuing his slow, torturous pace, wanting to drive Lars crazy.

“Yes, please, right there!” Lars whimpers, his fingers scrabbling for purchase against James’ back. “I need you, please—!” He’s cut off as James snaps his hips forward again, deliberately fast and hard. 

A high pitched cry comes out of Lars’ pretty, parted lips, his eyes closed and eyelashes fanned out against his flushed cheeks.

James is so big, it’s always a struggle to take him even after they’ve fucked so many times. Lars always feels so damn full when he takes all of him, the stretch is so good to him.

“There you go, baby,” James purrs, watching the younger man coming undone beneath him under his touch. “So pretty for me,” He mutters, leaning down to kiss the pale, soft skin of Lars’ neck. “So goddamn sweet.”

James pushes Lars’ legs up to his chest for a deeper penetration, driving into him with such vigour that he can feel tears spring to his eyes. God, curse this old man and his talents…

Keening, Lars’ nails dig into James’ back, red lines streaking down the aged skin. He sighs blissfully, feeling his climax draw near as James speeds up, and all he can think is damn, for a sixty year old his stamina is crazy. The old man didn’t waver a second, and Lars thinks that this might be the best that James has ever fucked him.

The pressure building deep in his loins reaches its peak, his mind melting as James holds him close, muttering sweet praises. Tears of ecstasy slide down his flush cheeks, holding onto James like he was his lifeline as he comes between the both of them. 

It’s hot and sticky, but it doesn’t deter the older man from chasing his own release once Lars had spent himself. If anything, he was owed it. It was his birthday after all. 

Lars is beginning to get sore, whining like a kicked animal as James brutally pistons into him. A calloused hand caresses his face in gentle reassurance, blue locking with green. James wipes his tears, murmuring reassuring yet incomprehensible words. 

“Doin’ so good for me, sweet boy…so lucky to have you as mine…” 

The silver fox somehow takes forever to come, Lars knows that, but now it feels like the man’s orgasm can’t come soon enough because he’s spilling over his chest again with a choked cry. His dick twitches limply with nothing more to give.

Seeing Lars so blissed and overstimulated, teary and breathless, has James finally coming with a guttural groan, pumping his load deep inside the slick warm walls of Lars’ hole. 

They stay pressed against each other like that for a minute or two before James pulls out, hissing at his sensitive cock. Lars winces when that feeling of emptiness hits him again like there’s a piece of him missing. 

Even though he’s tired and achy and overstimulated, Lars musters up the energy to grin lazily up at his boyfriend. 

“Happy Birthday.”

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 - 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄

warnings: Lars and Kirk playing matchmaker (kind of?), James being an a confusing asshole, Jason being helplessly charmed by James, Fluff

inspired by @magnetadraww’s art of Jason & James!! Defo gonna make a part 2 to this!

fluff under the cut :)

Over his time in Metallica, Jason found that spending nights hanging around his bandmates leaned into two different paths—they’d get shitfaced and pass out, or they’d play a stupid game that always involved one of them getting terribly embarrassed.

Tonight, it was clear it was going to end with someone getting humiliated. Hopefully it’s not him again…

With his arms crossed and his legs spread out, Jason sat on the hotel floor with his back against the sofa, watching Lars spin an empty bottle on the carpet in front of him. All three of his bandmates were seated on the sofa, watching with interest as the bottle clattered against the carpet, spinning in sharp, quick intervals before slowing down.

Watching with mild interest, he pops a blueberry in his mouth from the fruitbowl their hotel had so graciously provided. Blue eyes lock onto the neck of the bottle, watching it go round and round.

Eventually, the bottle slithers to a slow stop, and the neck of it points directly at Jason. Lars snickers lowly under his breath and Kirk looks like a child about to receive a birthday present, practically bursting with curiosity and excitement.

He huffs a groan, knowing he’ll have to pick between the lesser evil in Truth of Dare. It’s like they’re 13 year old girls at a sleepover. What’re they gonna do next? Chat about which teenage mutant ninja turtle deserves a death penalty?

“What’ll it be, Jase?” Kirk asks, barely able to keep the amusement out of his tone.

Lars nudges his arm against Jason’s shoulder, looking at him with an excited expression.

“C’mon, we all know you’ll choose truth. It’s not like you have the balls for a dare.”Lars knew exactly how to irk Jason—and to prove Lars wrong, he picked dare.

“Dare.” His voice holds a challenge—whatever they give him couldn’t be too bad. They had boundaries set for this: no nudity, public humiliation and dangerous dares.

Lars grins; it’s exactly what he wants, for Jason’s pride to make him pick dare.

Kirk, who had been sitting on the left, glances at Lars with an amused look on his face. It was obvious by their reactions that they were hoping he would pick dare.

“Alright then… I got a good one for you.” Lars grins mischievously, licking at his bottom lip.

Leaning forward, Lars sits up and looks down at Jason, who’s eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

“So, my dare… Is for you to eat a strawberry.”

Jason’s taken aback at how simple the dare is. There must be a twist…

“…Just eating a strawberry?” He says in a bewildered tone. Lars smirks—he’s clearly loving this.

“Yup! Just eating a strawberry.”

Kirk sits back against the sofa, his face displaying a look of feigned confusion.

“What’s wrong, Jason? Scared?”

“No, just..confused.” He mutters, reaching into the fruit bowl for a perfectly red strawberry. He thinks everything’s going maybe okay, until Lars drops the bomb on him. The second half of the dare.

Once Jason’s settled with the strawberry in his fingers, Lars grins and adds, “Oh—almost forgot to mention the one little catch…”

“You have to eat it with James.”

Kirk nods in agreement, like this was all planned out, and it probably was.

“You both have to eat half of the strawberry, with the strawberry right between you guys. Should be simple right?”

Jason swallows back a groan—they were always trying to push him and James together. It’s not that he hated James, no, not at all. But the guy kind of intimidated him, and the feeling he got when he was around the frontman was strange and a little uncomfortable.

He looks up at his two bandmates, both of which were waiting for his answer and he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. If he refuses, he’ll be labeled a pussy. 

“Why’re you dragging me into this?” James laments, frowning. James made it very clear he didn’t like the idea one bit—typical James behaviour.

Lars rolls his eyes, and Kirk grins mischievously.

“Oh c’mon, it’s a damn strawberry. It’ll be over in ten seconds.”

“Yeah, we’re not asking you to make out.” Kirk chirps, knowing that would get a rise out of James. It worked, and James threw him an annoyed look.

Jason watched the back and forth like a tennis match, and he could see the wheels turning in James’s head. Jason’s sure the guy’s gonna refuse, like he always does, until James suddenly speaks. 

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Jason’s eyes widen and he can’t help but wonder why James had changed his mind. He watches as James sits up against the sofa, and he realizes it’s probably because he doesn’t want to appear like he’s scared to do a silly dare.

“Atta’ boy, James!” Lars exclaims happily, patting James’s shoulder. Kirk grins, and Jason’s certain he’s secretly enjoying the two of them being forced together.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, Jason’s face begins to flush red. He can’t believe James actually agreed, and he can already feel his heartbeat increase. This would be a long night.

Jason hoists himself off the ground, settling next to James on the couch. This is so embarrassing, even with just the four of them in the room. He doesn’t know where to start—where to even place the strawberry, how this would work. 

It seems like James has other plans, because he’s soooo confident, taking the berry out of Jason’s hand. So he was going to take the lead? Okay, he could work with that…

Jason could sense James’s confidence, and it only made him more flustered. He could see Lars and Kirk smiling at them both, their heads leaning forward like they’re watching a movie. 

Jason’s heart hammered in his chest when James’s fingers brushed against his. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, but it didn’t work. James was so close to him, and he swore he could feel the heat from his body.

James smirks smugly, and Jason’s just glad to find that the guy isn’t giving him any issues yet.

“You don’t need to look so nervous, Jase. It’ll be over before you know it. “

He shifts in his spot, moving a little closer to Jason and holding the strawberry in front of both of their faces.

Jason could hardly respond—he was too focused on trying not to have a heart attack. James being close to him like this was overwhelming, and it was only going to get worse. The fact that Lars and Kirk were eagerly watching them didn’t help either. He felt so awkward, but he knew there was no backing out of this now.

“Open wide…” 

Jason’s eyes widen in shock as James commands, and he could feel a shiver run down his spine. How was he supposed to handle this? He swallowed back a gulp, but slowly did as the guy told him to and opened his mouth.

The heat in his cheeks deepened, and this was humiliating. This dare was a terrible, terrible idea. But he would get through it. James brings the strawberry closer to his mouth, and Jason’s mind is running a million miles a minute. 

He almost squeaks when James’s thumb makes contact with his bottom lip, pulling it down slightly to allow the berry to enter his mouth. His hand then moves to hold his nape—the gesture is waaaay to intimate, and Jason notices the tiniest sound of surprise from Lars.

The strawberry is placed between their mouths, and Jason’s struggling to breathe. This was so wrong—there was no reason James needed to hold him like this. He could feel the guy’s fingers press firmly against the sensitive skin of his neck, and he’s positive James could probably feel how hot his skin is. 

Jason tries to maintain a calm demeanor, but he’s positive he’s a flushed mess right now, but he has to keep his cool. He can’t look like an idiot in front of James or his other two bandmates.

James smirks, and Jason’s sure it’s because the guy knows exactly what this is doing to him. The fingers against his nape feel like they’re burning through his skin, and the urge to press against James’s touch is almost too much to bear. 

He can still feel Kirk and Lars’s eyes on him. They’re probably enjoying this like two damn kids watching an interesting tv show.

Jason’s starting to regret ever agreeing to this stupid game—how could this dare be so intimate? They’re just supposed to eat a strawberry for god’s sake, but of course James had to make it so difficult. 

Jason’s eyes flicker up to James’s, and the smirk on the frontman’s face confirms that he’s enjoying this. It’s like he was trying to get a reaction out of him on purpose.

The strawberry is somehow incredibly juicy, and when James and Jason bite down on it simultaneously, the juice somehow all drips down Jason’s chin. James looks untouched, but Jason has to cup a hand to prevent the sweet juices from dirtying his clothes. James seems to be amused by that—though there’s a glint of emotion in his eye Jason can’t quite pinpoint.

Jason’s absolutely embarrassed, and he’s certain he’s the color of a tomato at this point, but James seems to be enjoying his suffering. He can’t believe he’s managed to make a mess eating a damn strawberry, but here he is. 

He’s too focused on trying to hide his shame to notice the way James’s gaze travels down to his lips, watching the trickle of juice slide down his chin.

He tries to discreetly wipe his chin, but he can’t help but feel James’s eyes on him. The guy’s looking at the drop of juice on his chin like he desperately wants to taste it. The thought sends a shudder running down his spine, and the only thing Jason wants right now is to get this experience over with. 

He glances up to get a look at their bandmates—Kirk’s snickering lowly, and Lars is completely shocked—but their reactions are the least of his worries right now.

“Okay, there. Happy?” He bristled, not very happy with either of the pair. This was their fault. They had planned this stupid dare.

“Yeah.” James leans back against the couch, and a wicked smirk graces his face. 

Kirk and Lars can’t help but snicker, their eyes flickering to examine the two bandmates. Kirk speaks up first, barely able to hide his amusement.

“That was… certainly something.” He chuckles lowly, and Lars grins widely, clearly enjoying himself too much.

By the end of the night, Jason knows that deep down, he’s the one that’s lost the game that time. Again. 

Throughout the rest of the night, Lars and Kirk continued to poke fun at him and James, but Jason couldn’t focus at all. He was far too distracted by the fact that James had been acting strange towards him. 

He kept catching glimpses of the guy looking at him, the look on his face almost…wanting. Whatever that was supposed to mean…

That evening, Jason’s mind would often wander back to their little ‘dare’. The feeling of James’s fingers against his neck and the heat from the guy’s body was forever burned into his mind, and that stupid little smirk that had been on his face…

It was almost hard to believe that this was the same guy that used to snap at him for the dumbest, tiniest things.

It was driving him crazy. He couldn’t think straight. His heart’s racing, and he’s positive all his thoughts and feelings were written all over his face.

The only way he was going to get rid of this uneasy feeling was to go lay down, but he knew he’d just lay there and replay the entire night in his head. He knew sleep wouldn’t find him tonight.

In fact, something or rather someone, found him instead…

Jason was in his hotel room, flopped on one of the beds as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to forget about the nights events. He could still feel the heat of James’s body and the touch of his fingers against his nape, like the sensations had left a permanent mark against his skin. 

He heard a knock against the door, and he groaned, assuming it was either Kirk or Lars ready to bug him some more.

He heaves himself up off the bed with a sigh, and he walks over to the door. He opens it, expecting to see Kirk or Lars standing in the doorway, but to his surprise, it’s…James.

The frontman stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, and he’s watching Jason with a calm expression. Jason’s completely shocked to see him here, and his first thought is that the guy’s here to continue making fun of him.

All he can manage out is a small “Hey.” It’s pathetic, but he doesn’t know what else to say, especially after that stupid dare. His heart beats against his chest like thunder, and he’s sure James could hear it from the way he smirks like something about his embarrassment is so funny.

James’s smirk deepens, and he pushes off from the doorframe to enter the hotel room, forcing Jason to side-step so he can get past. He closes the door behind him with a silent click, and the room instantly falls into silence.

Jason’s heart is racing, but he doesn’t know why. What was the guy even doing here?

James turns to Jason again, and it takes everything in him to not shiver under the guys intense gaze. He’s used to having to deal with James’s intimidating stares, but it feels different for some reason. It’s almost like he’s not used to having those sharp, dark eyes focused directly on him.

“You look nervous.” James remarks, his voice deep and low.

Jason clenches his jaw at the remark, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. He is nervous, but he doesn’t know why and he isn’t about to admit it to the guy either. 

“What do you want?” Jason’s voice is steady, but he can’t help but feel the slightest bit flustered with James standing so close to him.

James raises his eyebrows, like he’s amused by Jason’s attempt at acting like he’s not ruffled. That smirk is still on his face.

“What? Can’t I just come see you?” He steps forward, now mere inches away from the other man.

Jason’s heart begins to thump even faster, and he can feel the heat rising to his cheeks. He’s been alone with James plenty of times before, but this was different. 

He didn’t know exactly what it was, but James’s expression and the way he was looking at him was making him anxious. It was like he could read right through him.

He crosses his arms over his chest, hoping to hide some of his nerves.

“You never just ‘come visit me,’ so spit it out.”

James keeps his calm demeanor, taking another step forward and effectively backing Jason up against the wall. Jason’s throat gets tight as he feels the cold surface of the wall behind him.

James places both his hands on either side of Jason, and he’s practically towering over him now. A small shiver racks through Jason’s body, and James can definitely see it now.

“Can’t a friend check up on his bandmate?”

James’s smirk morphs into a half grin, and he takes another step forward, closing the already small space between them. Jason’s heart is beating quicker than a damn machine gun now, and his whole face feels warm.

Jason doesn’t even know what to say. The front man was way too close to him—he could feel the heat of James’s body and the sound of his breathing. He clenches his jaw, and he desperately wills himself to hide any hint of how flustered he is.

“Is that what you do? Just corner your band mates and crowd them into a wall?”

“Only you.” 

James’s voice is a low, almost sultry tone, and Jason’s sure his heart just skipped a beat. He tries to come up with some sort of response, but the words get stuck in his throat.

He’s absolutely flustered now, and James has to know that he’s got him trapped against the wall like a fly.

James takes a moment to look Jason over, and the small shiver that wracks through the man’s body doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He moves in even closer, until there’s only an inch between them. Jason’s breathing increases, and a red flush slowly creeps across his cheeks.

“You look pretty like this.” James murmurs, his gaze wandering over Jason’s face.

The words catch Jason off guard, and he’s sure the flush on his cheeks deepens. This shouldn’t be having this much of an effect on him, but it was. 

James’s voice is so low, but his demeanor is still so calm, like he’s unaffected by having Jason this close to him. Jason swallows dryly, desperately trying to collect his thoughts.

“P-pretty?” He whispers, his voice cracking slightly.

James lifts a hand, and Jason’s breath hitches in his throat as the guy slowly moves his hand up to his face. He watches with wide eyes as James’s fingers gently caress his jawline, and a small gasp escapes his mouth.

The feeling of the other man’s touch sends shivers through his body, and the smirk on James’s face is so smug and irritating and…attractive.

James brushes a thumb over Jason’s bottom lip, and his smirk deepens when he feels the other man’s body shudder. The way Jason’s breathing was increasing and how his face had gone red was too good to ignore. 

He leans in impossibly close, his voice a low whisper right beside Jason’s ear. 

“So cute…”

Jason’s whole body goes tense at the feel of James’s breath against his ear, and he’s positive the guy can hear the rate of his heart thumping wildly inside his chest. 

He doesn’t know what to do—he can’t think straight with James so close to him like this. James’s hand is still caressing his face, and he can feel himself slowly start to come undone under the other man’s touch.

“I can hear your breathing, y’know.” James mutters lowly, his thumb now caressing the sensitive skin beneath his chin. He tilts Jason’s head up, calloused fingers gliding against his skin like silk. 

Jason almost whimpers, but he quickly bites his bottom lip to stop any sound from coming out. The front man’s touch seemed like it was burning his skin, and it was so damn irritating how calm he still looked.

Jason swallows back a small gasp as James’s thumb still caresses the sensitive skin of his chin, and he can’t believe he was letting the guy do this. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop him or push him away. 

“You’re shaking.” James murmurs, and Jason’s breath hitches in his throat. The man was right—he was shaking like a damn leaf.

His body trembles slightly as James’s hand cups his jaw, and Jason curses under his breath. The guy’s touch was too warm, just like when he held him during the dare.

James runs the soft pad of his thumb against Jason’s cheek in a slow, gentle motion, and a small whimper escapes his mouth. The sound is pathetic and embarrassing, and he’s sure James is definitely laughing internally at how affected he is.

James leans in closer, and Jason can’t help but wonder is this is how all the girls feel like when James seduces them. Heart rate spiking, cheeks all flush and rosy, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

The blonde likes this—it’s different from all the groupies and girls he’s used to charming. It’s a good kind of different, one that he wants to draw out. He wants to make Jason want him more than does already; to chase him down and prove his worthiness for James’ true affections.

This is just a test run to see if Jason could get wrapped around his finger from a minuscule interaction.

James closes the small, almost microscopic space between them even more, and a small shudder wrecks through Jason’s body as he feels the other man’s breath against his skin. His heart is beating even faster, if that’s possible, and the look on his face feels so utterly pathetic. 

James’s own heart is racing, but he does a good job of keeping a stoic expression. Seeing Jason all flustered like this is doing things to him, but he doesn’t want the man to know it. 

Not yet, at least.

He moves his hand down to Jason’s neck, and the man’s breath hitches. James’s fingers brush against Jason’s pulse point, and he can feel how the man’s heart is pounding frantically. 

Jason is desperately trying to keep himself composed, but he’s failing miserably. James smirks again, now sure that Jason’s fallen into his love trap.

“You’re so damn shaky, hm?” James practically purrs, his voice deep and low in a tone that would make anyone shiver. He runs small circles against Jason’s skin, and the other man has to restrain himself from leaning into the touch. God, this man was such a jerk.

The guitarist leans in close to his bassist, their lips a hair’s length away from each other just as it was a while ago. Devious blue eyes dart to Jason’s peachy lips, a hunger clear in them. 

Jason’s flustered expression is like an invitation—one that he’s so eager to accept, and yet, he wills himself not to.

James can’t help but admire how Jason looks like this, vulnerable and so desperate. It’s so much more enticing than any of the women he’s been with. 

His eyes dart to the other man’s lips again, and he can practically see how they would be plump and soft against his own. Would making out with him be gentle and soft, tender like long-lost lovers? Or would it be passionate and rough like they were crazed animals in a rut? He almost shudders at the thought of kissing Jason.

But no, that would ruin the fun. He wanted to drag this out and tease the poor defenceless man until he came running to him begging for more.

James cruelly pulls away, patting Jason on the cheek gently like he was a kid. He flashes the auburnette his signature grin.

“I’ll see you around, Jase.” 

Jason wants to snap his neck. How dare he, after all the tension, the buildup? Just leaving him like that, sauntering out the door? The audacity! But what had Jason truly expected? To receive a kiss, or more?

Left alone with his stupidly filthy thoughts and the lingering touch of his frontman, Jason sinks down to the ground, head in his hands. 

Fuck, he cursed internally. He knew he was in the deep end. 

With the closing of the door, James’s smile falters. Damn it all, seeing Jason so flustered like that had him on the edge of losing all his patience. 

He desperately wants to go back to the room and pin the man against the wall, make him moan under his fingers. God, the way he had trembled when he touched his face had set his veins on fire. But no, he had to remain strong. He can’t make any moves too early…

…Not when the game had just begun.

5 likes and I’ll write trans James pegging Dave

this Dave this James thanks goodnight

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒/𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐀 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

I’m back!! Yippee!! Yay!!

warnings: anal sex, first time bottoming, strap-ons, pegging, crying (very mild), overstimulation, trans James Hetfield :)

When James had first pitched the idea of pegging Dave, the older man had brushed off the comments like it was nothing more than a whisper in the wind. He had assumed that it was just curiosity, an interest that would blow over soon enough. Of course, he didn’t realise that his indifference would lead to the blonde becoming even more adamant on trying it.

Every time James had a chance, their conversation would stray towards Dave getting on his back for him, and his consistent pushing for them to try it psyched Dave out. He couldn’t possibly imagine James, who wouldn’t know a thing about fucking someone, even be able to last more than a minute before tiring out. Then again, the man was always full of surprises, but Dave was insistent on keeping his ass untouched. James chalked it up to his ego not allowing himself to get topped, something along those lines.

"No. I swear to god, James, I swear to-"

Dave cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could hear James’ persistent rambling again at his side, something about just trying it out and it feeling good, that he should try it once with him at the very least. The more annoyed he got, the more stubborn James got, and it was a cycle that frustrated the hell out him.

"James, you have to listen to me!" Dave finally blurted out, in a moment of irritation, looking over to his side. Blazing hazel eyes are filled with exasperation, and yet, James is unrelenting, determined to have a taste of Dave at his mercy.

"You're too soft," James pointed out, his smirk devious as Dave shot him another fed-up glare, "Too scared to even try something new." He knew fully well how that would irk Dave and his ego, how he’d prided himself on being sexually flexible and yet wouldn't allow himself to take it up the ass.

"What makes you think I would even enjoy it?" Dave tried to keep his voice steady, speaking defensively, despite how his heart had begun to race at the mere thought of it. James had a tendency to rile him up, despite his best efforts to not give in to what he said. The man always found a way to get at him, whether it was something as big as this, or a simple jab at his guitar playing.

"What's there to not enjoy about it?" James asked, feigning cluelessness. “I enjoy it lots when you fuck me—no difference.” “There is a difference, James. A very big one.” The blonde scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. “Oh, pish-posh. What, you won’t let me fuck you because I don’t have a dick? Is that it?”

Immediately, Dave puts his hands up in surprise and defensiveness. “Hey, that’s not what I meant—”

"What DID you mean then? Am I not enough for you? You want a real man to top you?" James pushed, not moving his eyes from the ginger’s now terribly alarmed ones, putting on a disgruntled expression. He knew exactly how to ruffle Dave's feathers, to get a reaction out of him. He always relished in the way his bandmate would stutter under his gaze, how he'd struggle to keep his voice steady, or his expression neutral. It was all too easy to push Dave over the edge, a fact that James knew all too well. He'd always enjoyed seeing the ginger squirm when his tongue was sharp and his tone was harsh, making him all flushed and tongue-tied. Just like now.

"You idiot! You know you are, alright? Don’t put words in my mouth. I just don’t want to, okay?" He huffed, pulling his gaze away to stare at the ground. Dammit. He couldn't help the heat pooling in his gut, and while the thought did excite him, he was less than eager to go through with it.

"You're so damn stubborn, y'know that?" James murmured, taking a step closer to Dave. Hazel eyes roamed his face, studying his mannerisms and facial expressions intently. The heat in his gut was growing, his own excitement beginning to get the best of him, yet he still tried to hold onto some sense and reasoning.

"I just-" Dave trailed off, his voice cracking, his walls crumbling. Curse James, he always knew how to get what he wanted. "I don't think I'd like it…"

"And how would you know?" James retorted, his tone filled with a mix of frustration and amusement. "You haven't tried it. Why are you so scared of trying it?" He was really trying to test Dave, pestering him with endless questions, seeing how far he could get.

"I'm not scared...it's just...it's not something I want to try." Dave tried to keep his voice firm in spite of the way James could so easily get past all his defences. He can hear the pathetic waver in his voice, and so can James. The latter’s grin spreads, knowing that he has the older man backed into a corner.

"Come on," James began, his tone growing softer. "I'll be gentle with you. Please...?" His fingers gently traced the other man's jawline. "If you don’t like it, we can stop. I promise. Cross my heart.”

Dave was trying to remain steadfast, but all at once, his resolve was dissolving, weakening. He wanted this, wanted to try it, to ease the gnawing curiosity at the back of his mind, but he couldn't bear to relinquish his control. Eventually, he lets out a reluctant huff, eyes falling in defeat. "Fine," he grumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. His willpower was shattering at every moment—it's all too obvious to the blonde. "But you'd better be careful. If not, God so help me, James..."

"Don't worry, I will be," James assured, giving Dave that familiar gummy smile. Inwardly, he was rejoicing—he'd finally won. He'd finally, finally gotten his egotistic, stubborn, prideful partner to submit to his whims. He'd always wanted to try it, he just didn't have Dave on the same page as him.

Calloused fingers were still tracing the outline of the guitarist’s jaw, gently rubbing his thumbs along his plush lower lip. The thought of that mouth being on him—God, it was driving James insane already. But he restrains himself, tossing his guitar off his lap and dragging Dave off the couch.

"Come on," James urged as he leads Dave to the bedroom, the latter's heart pounding in his chest. He'd only had a fleeting imagination of this moment, but now that it was actually happening, it felt surreal—dreamlike. He was so focused on not stepping on his own feet that he'd almost forgotten to take a moment to glance at Dave. When he finally does, powder-blue eyes rake over the older man, taking in the way he fidgets under his intense gaze. Nervous and not as confident as he usually was—he looked like a wet cat, and James couldn't help the low hum that left his throat.

God, he couldn’t wait to bend him over.

“Wait—now?” Dave is quick to speak up, but all he manages after is an incoherent string of consonants. James can't help the chuckle that breaks out of his lips, watching as Dave scrambles to gather his words. He's all too eager to see the other man fall apart, watching him squirm under his gaze.

"Yeah, now," the blonde replied, a smirk tugging at his lips, "I've been thinking about it for too long now. It's time, don't you think?" In James language, that meant ‘I bought it a long time ago and was just waiting for the right moment.’ He leans back, giving Dave the chance to collect his thoughts before they’re fucked out of him.

Dave's deepen in a few shades of red, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest. "You've been…planning this or something-?" He asks, his voice coming out more like a squeak than he'd intended. He'd like to pretend he wasn't curious, wasn't even a little bit drawn to the idea, but he was. He always had been, somewhat.

"For...for how long?”

James grins, amused by Dave’s flustered state. "Months," he admits, leaning back against the headboard as Dave stands in front of him, eyes darting around his room desperately, trying to avoid his stare. "Ever since Lars first mentioned it that one time." It’d been such a throwaway comment, a simple joke between the two men that had discovered something deep within himself. When Lars had casually mentioned it, a spark was lit in James. He'd been dying to try it ever since, pushing the idea onto Dave at any given chance.

Dave swallows thickly, his gaze slowly trailing back to James, taking in the sight of him—so laid back and composed, as if they were talking about the weather. Dave was a bundle of nerves, the exact opposite of his friend. A shiver of anticipation runs through his body, and he fidgets with his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric anxiously.

James doesn’t waste a moment to get himself naked, revealing those mesmerising scars that run under his pecs that Dave always loved to trace the pads of his fingers against. He just stares, watching each fluid movement with such an intensity that James was sure he could feel the heat of his gaze drift across his body.

In a few hasty and graceful movements, James was already shedding his clothes and tossing them aside. Dave's eyes were glued to his friend's body, his gaze roving over the familiar expanse of pale skin. Dave, on the other hand, felt almost self conscious, like he was a blushy virgin all over again as he slowly started to strip, fingers trembling as he pulls off each piece of clothing one by one.

While Dave fumbled with his clothes, James was digging out a box hidden under clothes in their closet, a mauve colour and glossy like a magazine.

Once Dave had finally stripped himself naked, James was already sat down on the bed, the box neatly placed beside him, watching as Dave approached the bed hesitantly. still feeling all too shy to look the blonde in the eye. He's never felt so flustered in front of him, and James was doing his best to not make any other sound besides a hum of approval.

The ginger has never, ever been so timid, not even in his worst moments, and he himself wasn’t quite sure why he was acting like this. He hates it. He’s supposed to be the one making James all flustered and embarrassed. Relinquishing his control is an unfamiliar feeling, and it makes him feel weak. Like he has no control over whatever happens next.

And he can’t help but wonder, is this how James always feels with him?

"C'mere, sit down." James cooed, patting the spot next to him. His voice was gentle and soft, in stark contrast to Dave's nerves. The guitarist had never been so submissive in his life, and it was a huge turn on to James. He was used to the usual flirty banter, to the teasing he got used to, but this time he had Dave on the backpedal.

The box lays open on James’ lap, and the sight is rather daunting to Dave. There’s the typical leather harness, plain, with a few studded square rivets along the length of the straps. Then, there’s the dildo itself, deep violet—a colour that James had always taken a liking to. It was quite similar in size to Dave, perhaps a little less girthy, but still impressive nonetheless. Knowing his own size, he knows that it’s going to hurt, and when he looks at James with a wide-eyed expression, the blonde merely shrugs with a stupid grin.

Dave takes a tentative seat beside his friend, trying not to fidget as he stares at the box with a mixture of interest and trepidation. The sight of the different pieces inside is somewhat intimidating, and while he was excited, he was also nervous. His eyes flit to James, and when he sees that annoyingly nonchalant expression, a shudder runs down his spine.

"You…you really think it'll fit?" He asks, voice coming out as a strangled whisper, almost a squeak that he can't seem to control.

"I…we'll make it." James says, a gentle reassurance that makes Dave want to either roll his eyes or shudder in arousal. He glances down at the box again, eyes lingering on the purple toy with an almost hungry look, a shiver coming from the pit of his stomach. "That thing's big." Is all Dave manages to get out, voice low and somewhat strained. “Not too much of a difference from your dick.” James pats Dave’s shoulder like this is all so normal, as if they were talking about the weather. Dave hates how James is so unbothered, like he’s done this a million times.

Dave can't help the small gasp that gets caught in his throat, feeling his face grow hot at James' blunt words, but he tries to brush it off, keeping his gaze on the toy. "Stop it." He mutters gruffly, swallowing hard as he tries to keep his breathing steady.

His heart is pounding in his chest, his body heating up. He's both anxious and aroused, and he can't help but shiver as the tips of his fingers trace the soft ridges at the base of the toy, along the faux veins.

Then, quick as lightning, yanks his hand away like he’s touched hot coals, electricity sparking up his fingertips. It's stupid, acting like he’s never touched a dick before. And yet, this was the first time he would have one in him.

"Stop what?" James asks, feigning innocence, as if he's not trying to rile Dave up. He knows damn well what he's doing, he can see the way his friend's face flushes, and the way his fingers twitch with impatience at his sides. His own eyes roam over Dave's body hungrily, taking in every twitch, every shiver.

"I'm not doing anything." He mutters innocently, although the way his voice drops half an octave in a gravelly tone is anything but. Dave scoffs, rolling his eyes yet again. Gunmetal eyes take the sight in, eager to make them roll back in another way other than annoyance.

“Shut up and do what you have to already.” “Impatient, are we?” James teases, lips quirking up into another smile. He slides the box off his lap, making sure to take the bottle of lube out of it before. He settles himself to sit with his legs folded on the bed, beckoning Dave forward onto his lap.

With Dave’s legs spread, his broad back resting against James’ chest, the latter runs his hands up and down smooth, muscular thighs. Sure, Dave’s fingered James loads of times—he was no stranger to it—but the thought of doing it to himself was unnerving. The sound of a bottle cap opening echoes through the silent room, James coating his fingers in a more than generous amount of lube. A warm hand rests on Dave’s stomach, just shy of his cock, the other reaching between his legs. He gulps—there’s no turning back from this once it’s done.

He can't even bring himself to look, eyes fluttering shut, his hands clenching and unclenching, trying to keep himself under control despite the growing anxiety that was making itself very apparent. “Relax,” James chides, giving his thigh a gentle squeeze in reassurance.

"Easier said than done," Dave murmurs under his breath, his cheeks flushed. He feels a shiver run down his spine at the sound of James' voice, and his body instinctively tries to relax. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to lay more lax against his friend, his voice coming out a whisper. "Just…be careful."

"Don't worry, I will be," James assures, his tone softening, and his hand on Dave's stomach rubs a circle. His other hand gives a firm pat on Dave's inner thigh, coaxing him to spread his legs even wider, and Dave does so obediently, a soft gasp escaping. "That's it," He coos, encouraging in a gentle tone, almost like he was a mother soothing a child.

Shaky sighs escape Dave's lips, his breath catching as James caresses his skin, a flutter of nerves and excitement in his stomach. He tries to spread his legs more, but he's already as far open as he can get, and he's still trembling like some damn virgin. As he’s about to speak, a finger dips past his hole, plunging deep into him without warning. A strangled gasp escapes Dave, his blunt nails digging tiny crescents into James’ thigh. His face scrunches up, unused to the sensation. The blonde’s finger moves around a little, as if searching for something, his index curling and uncurling in ways that had Dave sucking in sharp breaths.

"Shh..." James soothes, his mouth brushing up against his ear, lips lightly grazing against the shell of the older man's ear. A quiet chuckle makes its way through his throat, amused at Dave's reaction. "Relax, stop clenching so hard." He murmurs, his voice quiet. Dave shudders, hands still digging into James’ thighs with such force, there might be bruises tomorrow.

"You're the one who's doing this—how the hell do you expect me to relax when you're sticking your finger up my ass?" Dave mutters, his words coming out strangled and breathless. He feels so out of control right now; he's never felt so vulnerable in his life and it's making him dizzy with anxiety. He's not used to not being in charge—the feeling of helplessness is absolutely maddening. "I can't...I can't just-"

"I have every damn reason to feel as vulnerable as you do," James growls in his ear, his tone taking a slightly harsher edge. His index and middle finder begin to work his boyfriend open, the sound of Dave’s ragged breathing filling the silence. "God, listen to yourself. You're rambling. You're acting like some sort of nervous bride."

The ginger squeezes his eyes shut, feeling James scissor and spread his fingers, drawing little groans and whines from him. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, being stretched out, a strange sensation that he can’t see himself getting used to. Searching fingers prod against that spongey ball of nerves deep inside Dave, sending currents of pleasure up his spine, a loud and unintentional whimper ripping from his throat. His dick jolts, spurting precome across the expanse of his chest.

"God, James," Dave gasps, the sound of his voice a strangled sob, almost a cry, when the blonde gets three fingers in. "Stop tensing up, you need to relax, baby." "I'm not—I'm not trying to. It's—ah, ah, it's—” His words come out in a choked series of garbled sounds, and his head falls back against his bandmate’s shoulder, his fingers digging into the bed covers. James gives a smug hum, knowing that he’s found Dave’s prostate, focusing on that spot with unyielding fingers. The older man squirms and writhes, pathetic pleads for James to stop his relentless assault and give him a break going ignored.

"Look how responsive you are," James goads, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, voice smug and pleased that he’s reduced Dave to this quivering mess. He knows he should feel guilty—Dave is not at all used to being dominated and it shows. But god, the look on his face, the sound of his moans and whimpers. It's driving the singer crazy. "I thought you were a big man. Strong, tough." He leans his mouth to Dave’s ear, sucking on the lobe in a way that he knows drives him insane. "I thought you were so stoic, unbothered. And yet, you’re whining like a girl from a little bit of fingering.”

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," Dave gasps out, his breath coming out in short, jagged pants. He can't believe how right the older man is; this feels so embarrassing. He's supposed to be strong, dominant—yet here he is, a quivering and squirming mess just from a couple of fingers and a bit of tongue to his ear. "I—ah—I'm not whining," His protests sound weak to his own ears, and a strong hand grips James’ forearm, fingers wrapping around the limb as James’ fingers curled in him. Dave's terribly embarrassed by the filthily wet sounds that James' fingers make as they plunge in and out of him, lube smearing all across his inner thighs. 

"Yeah, you are," James shoots back, his voice dripping with an amused amusement that only serves to rile Dave up further.

The teasing is starting to get boring, so James ups the ante, starting by pulling his fingers out, Dave’s cock twitching limply on his chest in its own little puddle of precome. The guitarist sighs, feeling the absence of James’ fingers with a loss of warmth and a newer, harsh cold emptiness.

Dave sucks in a breath, his chest heaving as he tries to steady his ragged breathing, trying to find the strength to form coherent words, his mind still hazy with the sensation of James' fingers still lingering inside him. He swallows hard, trying to push back the thoughts of embarrassment at how overwhelmed he feels, trying not to make a fool of himself. Sliding Dave off his lap, James eyes the plum-coloured box, eager to test his little toy. The ginger watches as James reaches for the box, heart pounding a frantic rhythm. It feels as though his entire body is buzzing, every nerve ending on fire with unmet need.

"Are you excited?" The guitarist asks, his voice low and sultry, an edge of dark humor lacing his words. He watches Dave’s face as the other man struggles to regain his bearings and regain the capacity to form words. "Don’t look so damn scared. It's just a toy."

"Shut up, it's not that," Dave mutters, feeling his face heat up as he struggles to regain his composure, his gaze focused on the box and the ominous purple strap-on inside. "I'm not scared. Just...just nervous. That's all." He can't meet the other man's eye, almost offended by the insinuation that he's scared of a small purple toy.

"Nervous?" James chuckles, his eyes flickering over the other man's face, the way his cheeks flush, how he won't meet his eyes. "You don't need to be nervous, c'mon." Dave shifts, letting out another huff of breath in frustration, and this time it's an amused huff, a hint of a laugh. "What are you gonna tell the guys?"

"Nothing," Dave mutters in response, not wanting to think of them right now. "I'm not gonna tell them a damn thing." "God, are you embarrassed or what?" James teases, lifting the toy out of the box, inspecting it.

"No," Dave replies firmly, his ego bruised. "I'm not embarrassed. It's just...I don't know. It's kind of intimate, is all. I'm not telling them. Never, in a million years." He averts his gaze again, trying to sound nonchalant; his voice holds just a hint of defensiveness to it. After all, they were close, but still, secrets are secrets.

"You're getting awfully uptight over a little toy," James teases, holding the toy up in front of the other man's face, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "It's just a toy, it's not that bad. It's not like we're going to tell the guys. What, do you think Lars would get jealous? I'm pretty sure Cliff’s seen something like this before anyway."

A flicker of irritation crosses Dave's face. "Don't...don't bring them into it," he mutters, averting his gaze. "It's not...it's not even about 'intimacy', it's just...it's just weird. The idea that I'm just...letting you do this to me."

James laughs, an amused smirk playing on his face. "Jesus, it's not that weird, man. Don't make it into something it's not. I just think this could be fun, and I've seen you get 'weird' with plenty of girls." He teases. "What's the difference, with me?" "I—Well—" Dave splutters, his cheeks darkening. "It's a little different. With girls, I feel more in control, and it's not like they're my bandmate. You're my best friend. It's not the same at all."

Another snort of laughter leaves James' lips. "You don't like it when you can't control the situation, do you?" He chuckles, the grip on the toy tightening. "You're a control freak, Dave. You can't handle not having all the power. It's your worst trait."

"I am not a control freak," Dave retorts defensively, tone tinged with the slightest bit of hostility. "I just...like to be in charge. It's how I've always been. I don't like not knowing what's going on, being left in the dark. It's uncomfortable."

"I know you don't," James says, a smirk playing on his lips as he studies Dave's face, taking in the flushed cheeks and the way he's trying so hard to appear cool and confident, even though the other man can see right through him. "You're not used to not being the one in charge. You're not used to not being the one with the power. I think it’s cute."

Dave's face flushes deeper, but he doesn't deny it. He'd always been a bit of a control freak. Being in power was a comfort to him. But the thought of letting go, of surrendering control, was unsettling. "You're pushing my buttons. Cut it out."

James gives a lamenting sigh, like Dave was his father telling him off. He stands and turns away from Dave, picking up the strap. Dave sucks in a harsh breath, unable to pull away as James fastens the strap to his hips and thighs. The dildo stands tall and proud, allowing Dave to take it all in with a less than enthusiastic grimace. The driver's pad of the strap was a vivid mix of surrealistic gold and violet swirls that reminded Dave of strange contemporary artworks. 

"Get on your back." James all but commands, arms folded across the tanned expanse of his chest, a proud and smug little grin on his face that Dave so badly wanted to wipe off. Grumbling, the ginger complies, a little taken aback by James' authoritative tone. It was hard to believe this was the very same man that got stage fright whenever they would play a show. Okay, maybe it was a little hot to see jams in control, but that didn't mean he wanted a fucking dildo rearranging his guts. 

Dave's hair fans out on the bedsheets like a warm fiery halo as he lies back, thighs still coated in a now drying layer of lube. James shuffles on the bed close enough to Dave that the strap was mere inches from the older man's cock. Dave's leg is thrown over James' shoulder, fisting the sheets as James squeezes out way too much lube onto his palm. Dave can't look away as James pumps his strap, slicking the silicone up until he's satisfied, before slipping a finger into Dave one last time just to tease.  

"Get on with it," hisses Dave, and it draws a mirthful hum from James. "Impatient, are we? Don't worry, I'll give you exactly what you need." As Dave was about to follow up with a quip, he forgets all about what he was going to say when James grabs the base of the dildo, rubbing the tip of the at his soaked hole and guiding it in. Instantly, Dave tenses, chewing down on his lip as he feels himself being stretched wide over just the tip. "Shit, James-" He hisses, a hand reaching to James' chest to stop him from moving. "Deep breaths," James reminds, "and tell me when you're ready." 

After a few moments, the guitarist reluctantly gives him the 'go-ahead' signal. Just when he thinks that maybe it isn't so bad, James pushes in a few inches, and holy fucking shit, he's so wet it fucking squelches.

Dave jerks, his body shying away from James, who laughs as he slides in a little further. His breathing is uneven and ragged despite his best attempts to get it under control, feeling like he's being split into two. "Relax, you're doing so good for me..." James purrs, fingers digging into the thigh that's propped up. "Jesus," Dave hisses, the stretch painful and foreign. Dave feels like every part of him is on fire, from the heat pooling in his gut to the unfamiliar ache between his thighs where he's trying to accommodate James. The more James pushes in, the more lube is pushed out to make way, dripping down in obscene rivulets onto the bedsheets. Each little thrust draws little gasps and groans, Dave's eyes screwed up as he finally takes the strap to the hilt, shuddering a breath as the pain and stretch make way for a new, strange pleasure. 

And James, the little tease, traces a calloused finger around his stretched rim, smiling down at where they're connected.

A minute passes before Dave huffs, his eyes finally fluttering open. "Okay, you can-" Before Dave can actually finish his sentence, James all too eagerly pulls out and snaps his hips forward. Dave chokes on his words as James holds his hips in a near-bruising grip, beginning to fuck into him slow and hard. He can't filter himself, not when James is beaming down at him like he wasn't making Dave's eyes roll back from the force of his thrusts. They're slow but calculated to rub against his prostate, he wonders just how many times James must have done this. 

"James--Jamie, please-!" Dave babbles, his toes curling as James pistons his hips into him, the dildo rubbing at his sweet spot with every unbearable movement. Any more of this relentless assault and Dave's brain would melt and ooze out of his ears, the simmering hotness in his belly becoming more like a burning flame. His neglected cock spurts a little precome with each roll of James' hips, dribbling down his length and pooling on his abdomen. "Fuck, Dave...you're so good for me. Just for me, right?" The blonde coos, kissing the side of his knee. "That's it, baby." James hoists Dave's other leg up over his shoulder, leaning down so that the man was nearly bent in half. "Fuck-!" Dave hisses, the James' strap rubbing against his prostate at an angle that made his mind numb. James takes on tentative thrust, another, one more, before he begins that thigh-quivering pace.

"Oh--oh-" Dave whines, a sound that has never, ever been heard by any of them. James stills, staring deep into Dave's eyes for a moment, before he ruts into Dave like he's never going to see him again.

Dave's face scrunches up, their breaths mingling, sweaty skin sliding against one another, moving his hands to dig into James' back. He's going to come soon, and James can sense it too, because he's angling his hips to meanly hit Dave's ball of nerves dead on with each thrust, hell-bent on making the older man come. He presses his body against Dave even more, folding Dave to fit his strap in deeper. Dave's stomach muscles quake, and his thighs ache from the position, but he's too far gone to care. 

"James--oh god, I'm gonna-!"

Dave can feel the pleasure coiling him snap, and his orgasm comes right after, way too soon for both of them to react. It barrels through him so hard he can only manage a couple of garbled praises before he's covering his own chest with his come. James waits a few moments after Dave comes, letting the ginger come down from his high before he begins to snap his hips forward yet again. Dave clenches tight around the strap, hissing in oversensitivity. 

"Wait, wait--" Dave cries, his cock twitching limply on his chest. James mercilessly fucks into him with that loving smile, holding Dave down tightly. Dave's still riding the aftershocks, which is becoming electricity in his belly. He can hear himself babbling curses and pleads for a rest, all going into deaf ears. James nails his prostate again and fuck, its unavoidable in this position, drawing pathetic little hiccupping cries as he blinks tears back. He can see James' twisted joy in seeing him so vulnerable, murmuring soft praises as Dave's second climax draws near. The thought of James just using him without much consideration for it being his first time is somehow incredibly hot to Dave, in spite of himself.

"JamesJamesJames--"

He can feel the pressure building up in his belly again, white-hot. His nails drag streaks down James' back again, and he's screwing his eyes shut, teeth clamping down on his lip before he's coming again, this time not explosive as the last. His dick weeps, come gathering on his belly, and he can barely hear James over the sound of his own breathing as he comes down from his own high. It's all a blur as James throws the dirtied blanket off the bed and wipes him clean with a washcloth. they're lying and facing each other, James bearing a shit eating grin Dave wants to smack off his face.

"You okay? Was it good?" 

Dave scoffs, his usual attitude now back. "We're never doing this again, you hear me?"

James has a grin so cheeky it would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. 

"Never say never."