Posting Gooner Shit On Twt Im Psykotron Btw :p

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."

hii if u don't mind could you maybe do some kirk/dave rough sex/hate sex???? top dave!

𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐄/𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 - 𝐃𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞

warnings: degrading, degradation kink, slight humiliation kink, blow job(s), face-fucking, semi-public sex, Kirk’s a slut (we all knew that)

okay after this setting Dave actually takes Kirk back home I just don’t know how to progress from there but I’m just putting this out because yeah!!

nsfw under the cut :)

From across the bar, Dave glares down Kirk. He knows fully well who the guitarist is—his replacement in Metallica. How dare he waltz right into the band the same day he was kicked onto the streets like a dog? Resentment and bitterness towards him stewed in his heart, hazel eyes staring him down.

Kirk doesn’t seem to notice—he’s too busy laughing and chatting with his bandmates, though there is the small feeling of someone watching him…

Dave's stare is relentless though, studying each movement, each laugh that comes out of Kirk's mouth as if to scrutinize any sign of weakness he may have. It's a fierce gaze, a mixture of envy and anger, directed solely at the unsuspecting guitarist.

Beside him, Junior is a little concerned. He knew it was a bad idea to come to this place, and now Dave was mad and the whole evening would go wasted.

Dave sensed Junior's unease beside him and reluctantly diverted his gaze from Kirk for a moment. He looked at Junior, his expression still hard. "Relax, kid," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Why are you so nervous?”

Although Dave's words are supposed to reassure, they're said without much warmth, still too focused on Kirk across the room. He can still see the guitarist laughing and talking, like an annoying buzzing in his ear that he wished would stop. Frustration simmers within him, and his jaw clenches involuntarily.

Taking a swig of his drink, Dave's gaze once again finds its way back to Kirk, observing him with a mixture of jealousy and disdain. It's as if he cannot help but watch Kirk like a hawk, as if his mere presence is a taunt to his own misfortune.

Kirk walks off to the bathroom, and Dave decides he’ll take his chance. The guitarist turns to Junior, giving him a look that said “I’m going to do something you won’t like”, and Junior takes the hint, immediately moving from the bar to find some chick to spend the night with.

Dave, seizing the opportunity like a pouncing tiger, watches as Junior saunters off. He allows himself a sly smirk, pleased with himself for clearing the path. 

With a steady determination, he peels himself away from the bar and starts making his way across the room towards the bathroom.

Dave's strides are confident as he weaves through the crowd, his eyes fixed on the door to the bathroom. He tries to appear nonchalant, but his heart is pumping with a mix of anticipation and anticipation. 

He's aware that what he's about to do is probably not the wisest choice, but his bitterness towards Kirk is like a wildfire, burning hotter with each step he takes closer to the bathroom.

Dave reaches the door, a look of determination mixed with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath, the sound of the music and chatter in the bar just a faded hum in his ears. He grips the handle and pushes the door open, revealing the bathroom beyond.

It’s super empty. To be fair, the bathroom Kirk had gone into was quite secluded, and he never would’ve know it was there if not for Kirk. 

Dave enters the restroom, the sound of the main room now muffled behind the closed door. He looks around, noticing the solitary nature of the bathroom. It's eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of the bar's main area. It's perfect.

Dave stalks further into the bathroom, his boots softly echoing against the tiled floor. He comes to a stop by a sink right next to Kirk. The guitarist’s brown eyes fly up to see who it was. Kirk gives a small smile, familiarity shining in his eyes.

“Oh, hey, Dave.” 

The fucker remembers his name… 

Dave's expression darkens even further as recognition flashes in Kirk's eyes. A curt nod is given in return, his voice a low, gruff rumble. 

“Kirk.” 

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, his irritation already brewing underneath the surface. Dave's eyes narrow, studying Kirk, his thoughts swirling with suppressed anger and jealousy.

He moves closer, positioning himself next to the guitarist. Their reflections are seen in the mirror above the sinks, Dave towering over Kirk by a few inches. The close proximity and intimate setting of the bathroom adds a layer of tension in the air.

Meanwhile, Kirk’s heart is hammering in his chest, and he gulps silently, wondering what the hell the ginger would want from him of all people. He barely knew the guy and yet he looked like he had his funeral all planned out.

Dave leans against the sink, his gaze meeting Kirk's in the mirror. He's silent for a long moment, his eyes taking in the guitarist's features, the nervousness in his expression, the gulp, the slight tremble in his hands. Dave can't help but smile wryly. He found it pathetic.

“You look like you've seen a ghost,” Dave says finally, his voice low and mocking. “Relax. I haven't got a baseball bat hidden somewhere.” 

His tone is casual, but the underlying tension is palpable. Dave's eyes never leave Kirk's reflection, his gaze intense and unwavering.

He leans in a little closer, his voice dropping another octave. “I just want to talk...privately.” 

The bathroom's dim lighting casts shadows across Dave's face, making his already fierce features more intense and imposing.

Kirk's heart is now slamming against his ribcage, his nerves on full throttle under Dave's intense gaze. He swallows again, hard. 

“O-okay,” he stutters out, trying to remain calm despite the obvious implication of Dave's request. “What do you want to talk about?” Dave lets out a snort, a mocking smile playing across his lips. He doesn't move away, still standing only a few feet apart. 

“You know, Kirk, I've been watching you,” Dave muses, his voice almost in a purr. “You seem...popular. The golden boy of Metallica.”The bitterness in Dave's tone is clear, his words spitting venom.  

“Everyone seems to love you. Look at you now, getting fawned over by everyone in that room. I bet it feels good, huh?”

He steps closer, invading Kirk's personal space. The guitarist can feel Dave's warmth radiating off him, his scent filling the small area of the bathroom. Dave's eyes burn into Kirk's, his voice dropping even lower. 

“Must be nice...having everything handed to you on a damn silver platter.”

Dave leans in slightly further, his body almost touching Kirk's. He can see the fear in the guitarist's eyes, the way his breaths shallow out, the way his Adam's apple bobs nervously. Dave revels in it, relishing in the power he has over Kirk in this moment.

“Must be nice,” Dave repeats, his voice a mere whisper now. He's close enough that his lips brush Kirk's ear with each word. “That they love you so much. That you get their applause...their admiration...their respect.”

Dave's breath is hot against Kirk's ear, sending shudders down his spine. The ginger's body is so close now, the heat coming off him mixing with the cold air of the bathroom. Dave seems to almost envelope Kirk, his presence overpowering and intimidating.

And Kirk can’t help but find it so arousing, having Dave looming over him. It’s got his blood thrumming, however much scared he was at the moment.

Dave's hand comes up, gripping Kirk's throat in a rough gesture. He uses it to pull Kirk closer, the guitarist pressed up against his body. Dave's chest is nearly touching the back of Kirk's, and he can feel the man's heart pounding through his shirt.

His other hand comes up to rest on Kirk's hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with almost bruising force. Dave's mouth is hovering millimeters away from the nape of Kirk neck, his voice coming out as a dark, sultry purr.

“You have no idea how much I hate you,” Dave growls lowly, almost right into Kirk’s ear. “How much I have to bite my tongue whenever I see you up on that stage, with that stupid, pretty face of yours. Do you have any idea how much the thought of you makes me seethe inside?”

Dave's grip on Kirk's neck and hip tightens, his body pressed almost flush against the guitarist. His breath is coming fast now, quickened by his own anger and...something else. 

“You look so damn perfect up there,” Dave continues, his voice filled with an underlying hint of lust. “So damn perfect...and I hate you for it.”

Kirk shudders, his jeans feeling a little tighter. He doesn’t resist Dave. To be honest, Dave had been an object of his fantasies for a little while, with those dark devious eyes and that smirk that always had him spilling onto his hand.

Dave noses along the side of Kirk's neck, inhaling his scent. It's driving him crazy, and he can't deny the effect the guitarist is having on him right now. His body is reacting in ways he refuses to admit, the mixture of anger and desire swirling inside him like a storm.

Dave's hands wander now, caressing and gripping Kirk's hips and sides in a possessive way. His mouth continues to explore the side of Kirk's neck, nipping and sucking, leaving little marks on the sensitive flesh.

“I should strangle you right now,” Dave husks, his voice a mix of anger and lust. “I should wrap my hands around your pretty little neck and squeeze until you’re gasping and begging for air.”

The words send a shiver down Kirk's spine, his body responding to the rough touch and harsh words. He swallows hard, his back arching a little without him realizing it, pushing him closer against Dave.

Dave can feel the response in Kirk's body, the subtle arching, the shivers, the quickening breaths. He smiles against Kirk's skin, his own breath coming out hot.

“You'd like that, wouldn’t you?” He growls lowly. “You'd like me to get rough with you...use you like I own you.”

One of Dave's hands moves to the front of Kirk's jeans, palming his growing hardness through the fabric. He smirks at the sharp intake of breath from the guitarist, his own body reacting eagerly to the contact.

“Look at you,” Dave hisses, his hand continuing to palm Kirk's through the denim. “You're so goddamn eager for it, aren't you? You'd let me do anything to you, right now. I bet you'd even get on your knees for me.”

The words make Kirk gasp, his hips canting into Dave’s hand involuntarily. A flush of shame and arousal washes over him, and he can’t help the way his body responds to the ginger. It’s maddening, the way Dave is talking to him, with so much anger and lust in his tone.

Dave's breath comes even harder now, ragged and hot against Kirk's ear. His hand continues to work over the guitarist, his touch rough and possessive. 

“You have no goddamn clue, how badly I want to break you,” he murmurs, practically growling the words out. “How much I want to hear you begging and whining for more.”

Dave's lips are pressed against the side of Kirk's throat, his teeth scraping across the flesh. He can taste the guitarist’s desperation on his tongue, the neediness and vulnerability. Dave feels himself beginning to lose control, the anger and lust mixing together until they are an incoherent wave inside him. 

“Say it,” he commands, his voice a rough, dark whisper. “Say you want me to break you.”

Kirk’s breathing is fast and heavy, his body tensed against Dave. He can feel the heat of the moment coursing through him, the need for it almost overwhelming. Dave’s words, his touch, it’s like a drug that he can’t get enough of. 

“Break me,” he gasps, his voice ragged and pleading. “Please…break me…just please…I’ll do anything.”

Satisfaction and desire flood Dave at the words, a dark, possessive thrill coursing through him. He smirks as he leans in close, his teeth nipping at Kirk’s ear. 

“Anything? Those are dangerous words, y'know.” 

Kirk lets out a quiet whimper, the pain and pleasure mixing into a heady sensation. “I don’t care,” he pants out, his whole body feeling like molten fire. “Just…break me…use me…please…”

Dave’s grip in Kirk’s hair tightens, pulling his head further back. His lips trail down the exposed skin, nipping and sucking, marking the guitarist as his own. 

“Careful what you ask for, sweetness,” he husks, the nickname a mockery as much as it is an endearment. “I might just take you up on that offer.”

Dave's lips have now found Kirk’s collarbone, tasting the skin there with his tongue. He lets his hand fall from Kirk's hair, sliding down his back to grip his ass, pulling him harder against him. 

“If I do,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, “then there’s no going back. Understand?”

Kirk’s breath comes out in a harsh gasp as Dave’s hand explores his body, his own hands coming up to clutch at the ginger’s shoulders. He nods, his words coming out in a needy, pleading whisper.

“Yes, I understand. I don’t care. Just…” He lets out a guttural moan as Dave’s lips move to a sensitive spot on his neck.

Dave's lips turn up into a sardonic smile against Kirk's neck at the needy sounds coming from the guitarist. His hands grip and squeeze relentlessly, pressing the smaller man against his body. 

“God, you're so desperate it's pathetic,” he muses, his tone a combination of amusement and lust.

Dave’s hands are everywhere now, roaming across Kirk’s body as he presses him up against the wall. He lets his lips explore the sensitive flesh of the guitarist’s neck, biting and sucking at the tender spots. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with want. “You’re so willing, so eager. You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk’s mind is a swirling mess of need and shame, the sensations and Dave’s words sending waves of both arousal and humiliation through him. He gasps and whines as Dave’s lips continue their assault on his neck, his body trembling beneath the ginger’s touch. 

“Yes,” he manages out in a hoarse whisper, his voice raw and needy. “Yes…anything…please…”

Dave chuckles a little at Kirk's obvious neediness, his body and reaction fueling the fire in his gut. He pulls back from the guitarist's neck, his eyes raking over Kirk's flushed and panting form. 

“You’re so vulnerable,” he taunts, his voice harsh and mocking. “So willing to let me do whatever I want to you. Are you like this with James and Lars? I bet you are..”

Kirk’s breath hitches at the words, his eyes widening at the mention of James and Lars. A wave of shame and guilt washes over him as he’s reminded of his bandmates, who are blissfully unaware of the things happening behind the bathroom door. 

“No,” he manages to get out, his voice quiet and shaky. “I’m not like this with them…”

Dave laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “Sure you’re not,” he mocks cruelly. “I bet you beg and whine for their attention just as you are for me. You’d let them touch you and kiss you, wouldn’t you?”

Kirk tries to deny it, shaking his head weakly, but he can’t find the energy to do so, the truth sitting heavy in his gut. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t though of such things with his band mates, especially James. 

But he also knew it would never happen, that such feelings were unrequited. So instead he just lets out a small whimper, his eyes dropping to the floor in shame.

Dave notices the change in Kirk’s expression and body language, the way the guitarist avoids his gaze and fidgets weakly. A cruel smile plays on his lips as he leans in closer, trapping Kirk against the wall. 

“Oh,” he teases, his voice dripping with mockery. “That’s right, they’re not exactly interested in a needy guy like you, are they? That’s why you’re so desperate for it, why you’re letting ME have you like this.”

The sting of Dave’s words hit hard, a truth that cuts deep. Kirk can feel his eyes begin to prick with tears, a mixture of shame and hurt swirling inside him. He nods weakly, unable to deny it. 

“Yes…” he whispers, his voice small and defeated. “Yes…I’m desperate…please…you’ll give it to me…right? You’ll give me what they won’t…”

Dave’s smirk turns more smug at the broken look on Kirk’s face, savoring the sight of the guitarist so vulnerable and pathetic. He likes him like this, begging and needy, all for him. 

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low growl as he murmurs, “That’s right, I'll give you what you want, pretty boy. But you’re gonna have to do something for me first.”

The words send a thrill through Kirk’s body, his mind immediately going to what Dave wants. He nods again, more eager this time than before. 

“Wh-what do you want me to do?” he asks, his voice soft.

Dave's grin widens, his hand coming up to grip Kirk's chin, tilting his head up to look at him. 

“Get on your knees for me,” he commands, his tone gentle but firm. “Show me how desperate you are.”

The demand makes a flush of heat spread through Kirk, his body practically aching to comply. He doesn’t hesitate, slipping out from Dave to kneel on the floor in front of him. He looks up at the ginger, his eyes wide and pleading. 

“Like this?” He asks meekly.

Dave looks down at Kirk, his gaze taking in the sight of the guitarist on his knees before him. A dark thrill goes through him as he looks at the other man, a heady mix of power and lust swirling together. 

“Yes,” he responds, “just like that. You look so pretty down there, on your knees for me. I bet you like being on your knees, huh? Makes you feel like you belong to me, doesn’t it?”

The words go straight to Kirk’s core, making him shiver and whine unconsciously. It’s shameful, how badly he’s craving this, how good being on his knees for Dave makes him feel. 

Dave sees the way Kirk’s entire demeanor shifts, the way he trembles and whines, and it only fuels the dominating fire that was starting to burn inside of him. He moves forward, standing directly in front of the kneeling guitarist, his hand coming up to grip the man’s hair once more. 

“You know what to do.”

The command is clear, and Kirk is helpless to deny or resist it. His hands come up to Dave’s pants, unbuttoning and tugging them down until they pool at the ginger’s ankles, revealing his growing hardness. 

He looks up at Dave, his eyes clouded with a mixture of submission and lust. “Can I…?” He asks, his voice soft and needy, asking Dave’s permission.

Dave lets out a low hum, his fingers tightening in Kirk’s hair at the pleading tone of his voice. The sight of the guitarist at his feet, so obedient and vulnerable, is beyond intoxicating. 

“Go ahead, sweetness,” he purrs, his tone almost taunting. “Take me.”

The permission sends a jolt of excitement and anticipation through Kirk, making him shiver again. He leans forward, his eyes still locked with Dave’s like he can’t look away, and wraps his lips around the tip of the ginger’s throbbing cock.

His eyes never leave Dave’s, watching the ginger’s expressions carefully, taking in every little twitch and gasp. He takes it as a point of pride, how he’s able to affect Dave this way.

Dave lets out a low hiss as he watches Kirk take him in, his eyes dark and focused on the kneeling guitarist. It’s erotic and powerful, to watch as the other man goes to work on him. 

“God damn,” he mutters out, his voice ragged and rough. “You look so good like this, sweetness. On your knees, my big cock in your pretty little mouth. You like it, don’t you?”

A shiver runs through Kirk again, his body and mind overwhelmed with how good this feels. The words, the tone, the dominant way Dave is talking to him, it’s all feeding the fire inside him that only wants more of it. He moans around Dave’s cock, trying to take more of his length down his throat.

Dave hisses again, gripping Kirk’s raven curls tight. The guitarist holds the sides of Dave’s hips. But it feels so good to be gagging and choking on Dave, knowing that his bandmates could walk in and find them. 

The ginger hums smugly as Kirk finally takes him to the hilt, stroking his hair softly now. “I’m surprised you can take all of me—you done this before, little slut?” His cheeks burn in embarrassment, but he groans around Dave’s dick again. 

He isn’t sure whether that’s a denial or confirmation, but either way, Dave’s got Kirk blowing him. 

The ravenette starts to bob his head up and down, his blunt nails digging into the soft skin of Dave’s hips. He noses ginger pubes, the curls nestled neatly over his cock. As Kirk gets more used to the pace, he goes faster, and Dave chokes on a moan, eyes squeezing shut. 

“Shit—”Is all he has to say, fisting Kirk’s hair again. Soon, he’s facefucking him, Kirk’s eyes prickling with tears. God, it burns, but it feels so good..

Tears trickle down the guitarist’s cheeks, drool dribbling down his chin, but it’s worth seeing Dave come undone from his work, hissing and groaning gutturally. 

Kirk is pliant, letting Dave use him as he wishes. Dave takes advantage of that, using him like a fuck toy and chasing his own release. Kirk chokes on him a few times, but Dave doesn’t stop, and he won’t, not until he’s coming down Kirk’s throat.

The sounds they’re making are terribly obscene and loud. The thrill of knowing that anyone could walk in at any second has Kirk groaning around Dave’s cock again. Dave shudders, his release draws near and Kirk knows it. He relishes in it.

The ginger’s balls draw tight, and he shoved Kirk’s head down to his hilt, keeping him there as he finishes down his throat. Kirk takes it all, swallowing it and savouring the taste like it was holy water. 

Kirk pulls off with a wet pop, and Dave runs a hand over his own flushed face. Even as his dick hangs limp now, Jesus, he’s big. And if he’ll let him, Kirk would gladly bend over for Dave. 

“You’re a vacuum.” Dave mutters, tucking himself back into his jeans. Kirk grins and sticks his tongue out, letting Dave see his spend on his tongue. “Christ, you’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” He laughs breathlessly, helping Kirk up, who also chuckles.

“Take me back to your place.” 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jason is a bottom no one can tell me otherwise

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

I’ve been so busy brah I’ve neglected this account💔 I’m sorry chat I promise I’ll post real soon

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.”

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.

could you do something like listing all the kinks the Metallica guys have 👀

𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒

𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: James loves wrapping his large, coarse hands around his partner’s neck. It’s a lovelier sight than any silver or gold chain, priceless too. And he loves pressing down on carotids til his partner is breathless. Having dominance over his partner gets him going like crazy.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆: James loveloveloves marking, be it his partner leaving lasting red scratches on his back, or him leaving bites and hickeys all over his partner’s skin. He loves waking up the next day to see his or their handiwork, and it fills him with deep satisfaction.

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: It’s so incredibly arousing to hear his partner choke on sobs of pleasure, tears wetting cheeks from how good James is in bed. Even better if they’re from overstimulation, his partner trembling like a leaf under him.

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: Jason’s a submissive character at heart, however confident he may seem. He’s easy to pleasure, truth be told. There’s nothing better to him than being fucked six ways from Sunday with his face pressed into the sheets by his partner, bordering on his next orgasm.

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑-𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆: He’s got lovely auburn curls, and they were made to be pulled. The sharp sensations of having his hair pulled always makes his climaxes so much more intense, especially when his partner is dirty-talking him. Now that makes him come so hard his vision blacks out.

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄: A slut for praise, Jason easily gets off to his partner telling him how amazing he is, and not just in bed. He can get hard from a simple compliment, and it’s almost embarrassing if not useful in the sheets.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐓

𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑: The game of cat and mouse, hunter and prey, always has his blood running hot and his heart thrumming. It’s chasing down his partner like a predator, actively seeking them out, that has him turned on. Especially when his partner is cornered with nowhere else to run.

𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: He has an affinity with horror movies, and really, it gets him off to play a vampire, capturing his partner and whisking them away to his bedroom. Or, he’d also play a serial killer stalking around for his next kill, and his partner would play the lovely victim.

𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃: Any chance he gets, he’s biting and gnawing at his partner’s throat, imagining he’s one himself, sometimes hard enough to draw blood. The coppery liquid does things to him, the taste and the visuals of droplets streaking downwards. Rest assured, he licks it all better afterwards.

𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍

𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: Cliff loves going down on his partner, be it eating their pussy out like there’s no tomorrow, or rimming them until they ask for more. Any orifices down there is to be savoured and devoured.

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐗: He’s known for his love of weed, and truly, you can’t get better than high sex. Weed amplifies the pleasure between him and his partner, and the lusty haze has him addicted. Most sex with him is likely mixed in with marijuana.

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐌: A tender person, Cliff is so gentle and caring during sex. He’s always making sure his partner is okay, their pleasure is first priority. Aftercare with him is always a must, no questions, and he’ll even steal the moon if his partner asked it.

𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐔𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄: Lars is a little bit of a control freak (who am I kidding, he’s THE control freak). Thus, when his partner acts out of line, they’re soon over his lap, tears in their eyes as he gives harsh spanks on their bare ass. The best part is seeing how red and raw those round globes are afterwards.

𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: Being controlling is Lars’ forte, so don’t be surprised that he enjoys edging. Not so much on himself, but on his partner? He’s teasing them till the sun comes up if he has the opportunity. Granting an orgasm after hours of edging is the greatest feeling in his opinion.

𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: Lars is surprisingly a switch. Yes, I know, shocking. When he’s feeling a little subby, he’ll get on his knees and do anything he’s asked. His favourite is when his partner tells him how to masturbate, because sometimes he needs someone other than James to tell him what to do. Do this, do that, “Yes sir/ma’am!” is all he’ll say, with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas.

Thoughts?