Disclaimer: The story herein is fiction. Fiction is defined as being the following: A lie. A literary work whose content is produced by the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact. Please don't take these stories as truth. No harm or disrespect is intended by any of the fiction contained here.

Never Have I Ever - Part Three

James shoved a hand through his short hair.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his head bowed. James hadn’t moved for awhile, and his body was screaming for a stretch. James felt as though he was mentally torn in a million directions. His mind kept him exhausted and physically in place even as it ran in circles.

Kirk had kissed him.

Not hard, not insistently, not hungry or needy. James had believed something else was communicated through those soft lips and into his own head. As the weeks passed, and the memory of the kiss became a memory of a shadow, James doubted what had happened. He doubted what he had convinced himself he felt that night in Kirk’s room.

Kirk’s behavior in what should have been the band’s quieter moments had not evolved much since James’ visit. In rehearsal, James would watch Kirk with feigned borderline curiosity. It was as if the guitarist (still) had to take a deep breath every so often to settle himself. Once settled though, he wouldn’t simply play his guitar. Kirk found ways to try to push James closer to the edge. Avoiding Lars’ eye, Kirk would lean over James with flimsy excuses such as reaching for an extra pick. When their bodies rubbed against one another for the briefest of moments, Kirk was the only one who would hear James’ breath catch. James could see that Lars was left wondering what Kirk was playing at now. So, he gathered, Kirk didn’t feel the need to let the Dane in on this game. James didn’t know that Kirk’s rationalization for not including Lars this time was that Lars was also a target. It wasn’t that Lars was a target as much as a prop, and really, there was something more. Kirk wouldn’t meet Lars’ gaze because he was afraid of what the drummer might find there.

James, on the other hand, was unaware of any additional layers that hadn’t been exposed in the hotel room. He found himself oddly comfortable with the massive amount of truths that had passed between the guitarists that night. Still, there were things he was unsure of. Given Kirk’s mildly flirtatious tendencies, James thought ‘Two can play this game.’ First chance he got, James was going to push the limits himself.

That chance presented itself as Jason was trying to explain what he wanted to do with a certain intro.

“Like we did on that one tour?”

“Which tour, man?” Jason rubbed his eyes wearily. James was the last place he was expecting help from, which made Jason react as if this vague reference could be a trap.

“Back in 1994.”

If Kirk hadn’t been sitting so close to James, the reaction would have been imperceivable. As it was, it came and went quickly, with Kirk continuing to tune his ESP Ouija. Lars was a different story. His head snapped up, and those eyes couldn’t disguise his true feelings if his life depended on it. James smirked; he had no idea what he had hit on, but it was obviously something.

Jason just grumbled, “Yeah, whatever.... I hated that leg.”

“Me too,” Kirk spoke to his guitar.

“Why?,” James still smirked. “We all had so much fun.”

“Not me.” Kirk finally looked up and found James waiting to meet his eyes. “Besides, how would you even know if we had fun? You were passed out half the time.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember a lot of what happened to me....” James caught Lars fidgeting. Something in James’ gut warned him to stop, that he was pushing something he didn’t understand. Too bad James wasn’t the best at listening to his instincts. He opened his mouth, barely able to suppress a laugh, but was cut off by an irritated Jason.

“Whatever. The whole thing was a mess. And this one’s fixin’ to end that way if we don’t-- argh! Lars, do you really not know what I’m trying to say here?”

“Hmmph?”

“What the hell is with you?” Jason sounded irritated at Lars’ flighty attention span. Jason was also oblivious to the look with which James had pinned Lars.

Lars tore his eyes away from James, and returned to his chatty self. “Nothing, nothing... just fucking tired. Alright... you play, I’ll jump in. Let’s fucking get moving here... goddamn, it’s gonna be time for dinner and we won’t have touched a single fucking song....”

“Dinner, breakfast... whatever...,” Jason grumbled, starting to smile. He may have been annoyed, but it dissipated as they began to play. Jason was alone in his new found comfort, as James continued to keep an eye on both Kirk and Lars.

James squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out that scene. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been unaware that Kirk was going to continue to hide things? Kirk had admitted himself that he managed to keep a secret for 14 years. James knew he was a hopeful fool to believe that Kirk had come clean all in one night. Or two nights. Or whatever. The fact was Kirk was smarter than James; Kirk had manipulated James into spilling how he felt; and now Kirk was bored with the whole situation.

James rubbed his eyes roughly. If only he could block out how genuine and beautiful Kirk had looked after their lips parted. He stood, he stretched, he paced. With each trek around the room, he came closer and closer to the door. James found himself questioning himself once again: ‘Why can’t I go to Kirk’s room? No, why should I! I went to him before, and look what happened. Of course, I went before half wanting to break him in half for trying to trick me. Now I’m avoiding him completely because he did trick me? No, that’s not it. He’s Kirk, for fuck’s sake. One of my best friends. There has to be something more.... So why shouldn’t I go to him? Because he promised he wouldn’t let me do this to myself... wouldn’t make me wonder. No, I went to Kirk once. I won’t make that mistake again. He can come to me. I do have some fucking pride left...’

As James’ silent monologue stretched on, the trench he was stomping in the carpet widened. Finally, he stopped, in front of the door. He sighed, and reached out for the knob.

Before he could think twice, the door swung open, smacking his hand away. Then it slammed shut and the lock was turned by the small panting man who had barged in uninvited but not completely unwanted.

“Hide me! Help me! He’s after me!”

James rolled his eyes and returned to his personal groove on the bed. A giggling Lars pressed his ear against the door, then jumped back at a sudden pounding. Lars erupted into another fit of giggles.

There was more pounding on the door, followed by a muffled, “I know you’re in there! I saw you run in!”

Lars cupped his hands and yelled through the door: “No, I’m not!”

James dropped his head into his hands. “Lars, you can’t *say* you’re not! It’s like saying ‘no’ when someone asks you if you’re awake!”

“Shh!,” Lars hissed, the giggled, turning to face James. “He’ll hear us!”

“I do hear you!” Jason’s voice was muffled by the door, but James could still hear the smile in his voice. “You are too in there!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are!”

James looked up and added, “You are, you know.”

“You, shh!” Lars yelled back through the door, “No, I’m not!”

“Yes you– Ok, fine! I’m just going to go to Kirk’s room to get James’ key!”

Lars turned to James, raising an eyebrow. “Kirk has your room key, huh?”

“Don’t be a prick. Kirk has mine, you have Kirk’s, Jason has yours, and I have Jason’s. You fucking know that.” James’ mood was volatile at best. Lars had picked the wrong moment to tease about something that had been band procedure from the beginning. Of course, picking his moments was never one of his strong suits, and logic didn’t quiet him.

Lars stood up, still smiling, and put his hands on his hips. “You have the key to Jason’s room? Anything I should I know, Het?”

“Yeah, you’re a dick and I hate you.”

Lars ducked the pillow that James tossed at his head. James mustered a smile. Lars was oblivious to the rut furrowed into the rug from James’ constant pacing or the bad mood that went along with it. Honestly, James couldn’t find a way to mind Lars’ blindness. It was pretty frickin’ cool seeing Lars have so much fun. It was even interesting to see Jason relax and crack a smile once in awhile backstage. James didn’t want to damper their mood, but he couldn’t help but feel a little pang of jealousy. Lars and Jason seemed to be enjoying themselves so much, and Kirk had barely touched him, let alone acknowledge their previous revelations. Well, there was that one time last week in the showers. Another scorching kiss. A bad rehearsal had led to an amazing show. The four of them had so much adrenaline pounding through their veins, James was amazed they didn’t loose control right there on stage.

To their credit, they had maintained control. James was the first to the showers, tearing off his clothes as he walked through the dressing room. The initial spray of cool water elicited a low moan, and James was glad he was alone. For someone who was alone though, he had the awful feeling of eyes on his back. He turned to find Kirk standing by the entrance, with a wide grin equal parts excitement from the show and excitement from watching water cascade over James’ bare skin. A crooked smile from James was all the invitation Kirk needed.

James allowed himself to be pushed against the shower’s wall, glad to feel Kirk’s touch. Kirk’s hands entangled themselves in James hair, guiding him once again. Sliding his hands along Kirk’s flames, James’ mind reeled with the fire of the kiss but he also tried to remain grounded. James was careful not to wrap his arms tightly around Kirk. James’ feared that if he held on too tight, Kirk would just pull away. Instead, Kirk leaned against James. James was acutely aware that this was the first time Kirk’s naked body had touched his own. The moment was heightened by the heat pouring off their skin, and the water pouring over it, making them both slick. The struggle not to lose his mind became more difficult.

They broke their kiss, panting slightly and smiling at one another. Then their attention was distracted by Jason and Lars fumbling into the showers. Jason pinned Lars against the tile wall, bowing his head to devour the drummer’s throat. Jason seemed to have a lot of pent up sexual energy, and Lars was wasting no time helping him to release it. Neither man noticed Kirk or James as Lars clawed at Jason’s shoulders. Jason dropped to his knees and started licking and teasing Lars. By the time Jason had given into Lars’ insistent demands to “Suck me off, baby, please!” Kirk had moved away from James to a different shower head. Both guitarists were quite effected by the little show before them, and neither tried to hide it. Kirk just seemed to want to take care of business on his own and get into some clean, dry clothes. So, another scorching kiss. Then the meet and greet... then nothing.

James felt cool currents of air hit his cheeks. He opened his eyes and saw Lars leaning over him, waving his hand in front of James’ face.

“Hey, earth to Het! You ok?

“Yeah... tired.”

“Tired? You’ve been in bed all day.”

James stood up, went to the bathroom, and splashed some cold water on his face. “I’m just fucking tired, ok?”

Realization finally dawned on Lars as he watched James avoid eye contact. Lars sighed, and James looked at him, realizing he was berating himself for being a bad friend or some shit.

“Lars, I’m fine man. I’m just–.”

“Tired?” In response, James just nodded. He crossed back over to the bed, but Lars grabbed his wrist. Yanking James towards the door, Lars said, “Yeah, well, I’m bored. C’mon... you’ve been no fucking fun lately. And Jase–“

Just as Lars was about to unlock the door, it clicked itself and Jason jumped through the doorway. Jason’s predatory grin faded when his wrist was grabbed by Lars’ left hand. The game had changed, and Jason was pulled from the room along with James.

“Where we going?,” Jason asked James.

James shrugged.

“Well, what’s he doing?”

James shrugged.

“Do you know anything?”

“Yeah, for a midget, he’s pretty frickin’ strong.”

“That’s how you get when you drum like a muthafucker.” Lars grinned.

“Or a bassistfucker,” James joked. Jason shot him a glare, but it’s power was undermined by his blush. ‘Alright, dick. Let us go.”

In unlikely coincidence, Lars had planned on doing just that. He needed his hands to bang on Kirk’s door. “He’s in here, right?”

“He was 5 minutes ago,” Jason answered, rubbing his wrist.

James watched Jason tend to his tender skin, and smirked. “You’re such a fucking wuss. Lars, how do you have any fun with him?”

“I wouldn’t talk about having fun or being a fucking wuss if I were you, Het.” Lars pounded on Kirk’s door. “I mean, I thought Jase was the pussy of the band, but you two got him beat.”

“Hey!” Jason was getting irritated again. “Why is that being happy and being a pussy are mutually exclusive in this band?”

“‘Cause we’re tortured fuckers, man. It’s part of our image,” James answered dryly.

“Kirk, open the fuck up!,” Lars finally yelled, tired of pounding and tired of listening to Jason and James ramble. Jason rolled his eyes, and reached into Lars’ back pocket. “Hey! Ok... a little to the left....” Jason pulled out Lars’ wallet, pulled out Kirk’s keycard, swiped it through the door, and turned the knob. Lars stuck out his tongue. “Buzzkill.”

“Right, standing in the hallway smacking your hand against wood is so much fun,” Jason mocked.

“It was last night....” Lars giggled again. James looked back towards his room. Why was he still standing here?

Jason reached forward and pushed the door open before it locked automatically. Lars peaked his head in and then stood up straight. He turned towards Jason, “Why don’t you two go to my room? This place is a mess, as usual, and I got a ton of booze. We’ll be right down.”

Jason caught the look of concern in Lars’ eyes, but didn’t address it. Instead he followed an already moving James back down the hallway.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lars disappeared into Kirk’s room, and James disappeared into Lars’ room. Jason was half tempted to go into James’ room just to be goofy, but looking into Lars’ room, he decided against it. James had plopped down on the edge of the bed, and was studying his hands. Jason backpeddled a bit, and looked in on Kirk and Lars. Kirk was laying on his bed, clearly unclothed but covered by a sheet, and facing away from Lars. The little drummer had a hand on Kirk’s shoulder and his other pushed against his forehead. Jason wanted to go help his lover; he looked so frustrated and little bit lost. He knew Lars had asked him to go with James, though, and that was how he could help. So Jason walked in on James and started talking immediately.

“Hey, man, want a drink?”

“Hmm?” James looked up. Jason reflected briefly on how distracted everyone was acting. Why was this such a mess? And could Lars actually do anything about it, other than make it worse?

Smiling and shaking his head, Jason finished fixing James a drink. “You must be slipping in your old age, man. You were told there was booze, but you walked in and had a seat? That’s not the Het we all know and love.”

James gave a short humorless laugh. “No, I guess I’m not acting like the ‘Het’ you all know and....” James trailed off and reached up to accept the drink, muttering quietly, “Thanks, Jase.”

Before Jason could turn away, James drained half the cup, but his expression didn’t change. Jason looked to the door. He was about to close it and ask James if he was up for shots, when Lars bustled in and nearly slammed it. This got James upright in a bolt. Rather than yelling, James just sunk back down. Lars got on a face that was serious, if not a tad melodramatic and pulled Jason into the bathroom.

Once they were both behind the closed door, Lars whispered to Jason. Well, Lars attempted to whisper: subtle he was not. “Kirk was in bed. He looks awful. I don’t think either of them have gotten much sleep.”

“Neither have we,” Jason quipped.

“C’mon, Jay.” Lars took Jason’s hand. “I’m worried, ok? We’ve been... look, I’m just worried.”

Jason looked down as Lars absently chewed his lip. Normally, he would be reluctant to get involved in other people’s personal lives, but this was effecting Lars in a terribly way. Putting his arms around his friend, he said soothingly, “Babe, relax. The hard part is over. Everything’s out in the open. Now it’s like a puzzle: we just gotta help them see how to fit it together.”

“Yeah, but... why is it this hard for them? I mean, sure there’s shit from the past. But no one went through more shit than you, and you... well... you’re pretty fucking well adjusted, Jase.”

“Yeah, but I’m just an amazing individual. The rest of you are head cases.” Jason laughed quietly, and Lars echoed the sound. “Ok, so... why are we here?”

“So that James doesn’t hear–“

“Not why are we in the bathroom, freak. And Lars, babe, I’m pretty sure the cleaning lady on the second floor can hear *you*.” Jason paused to admire Lars’ blush before clarifying, “Why are we in your room?”

“Oh, ‘cause remember the night I finally removed that stick from your ass?” Jason smiled, remembering the night very, very well. “Later I asked Kirk if he had as much fun with James. He kinda blew me off, so I went to James. He, of course, turned it all into a big fucking joke and told me that they had played truth or dare and had said at the end of the night after you and I were already back that they should invite us to play truth or dare next time they played, and I know for a goddamn fact they haven’t played yet–they’ve barely said two words to one another. And I don’t care if they don’t speak but they should at least be in the same room while they’re not speaking, so I thought we could play the fucking game and get them in the same room, even if you and I are there. I mean we could always go to your room if we had to and I want to do what-the-fuck-ever will help those two dumbfucks. Plus I got all kinds of alcohol in h–mmph!”

Jason clamped his mouth over Lars to swallow the last few syllables. Finally leaving the drummer breathless for a moment, Jason said quietly, “And where is Kirk?”

“On his way. He wasn’t dressed and... and he’ll be right over.”

“Ok. Then we should go out there before he gets here. Ok?”

Lars only nodded and leaned up for another kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

James got bored of staring at an empty cup and listening to muffled Lars babble. He got up and fixed himself another drink and flipped on the small standard hotel room radio. He looked at the door and again asked himself why he still stood here. James settled on the painfully true fact that he was tired of being alone, and actually craved the company of his bandmates.

As if beckoned by his mental summons, Lars and Jason emerged from the bathroom. Jame fought the urge to roll his eyes. Moments later a groggy Kirk entered, but James had his back turned, as he had taken over drink-mixing duties. Never send a Jason to do a James work, he reasoned. The sound of Kirk’s sleep-thickened voice made his back tense. When had he gone from the Mighty Het to some frickin’ school girl, nervous at a crushes’ voice?

“Hey, Guys... what’s going on?”

Yeah, just those words alone were enough to make James shudder. But he fought the urge and instead turned to Lars and Jason with the two drinks he had fixed. James looked pointedly at Kirk, and with all the meanings he could force into a single line, asked, “What do you want, Kirk?”

Kirk blinked distractedly. James had bit down on his lower lip earlier to keep quiet while Jason and Lars had their meeting in the bathroom, and now his lip was slightly swollen and reddened. His eyes flashed in that dangerous way that Kirk had come to be able to see straight through. It was clear–if only to Kirk, Lars, and Jason–that he was trying to protect himself. Kirk’s eyes filled with something akin to regret as if he was reflecting and hating himself for causing James’ to reinforce the walls that already restrained him. Meanwhile, Kirk was taking entirely too long to answer, so Lars seized the opportunity.

“Just make him whatever-the-fuck, Jame! Jase, help me throw some of these blankets and shit on the floor–“

“What the fuck for?” James asked, still not turning back to his busy work.

“Remember when you said you would invite Jase and I for a game of truth or dare? Well you haven’t, and I’m inpatient, and fucking sick and goddamn tired of Jason’s games–“

“Fuck you, Lars,” Jason retorted, barely looking up. Good to see Lars barely phased Jason anymore.

“Maybe later, if you’re nice and bad. For now we got guests. Now you two sit the fuck down and get comfy. We’re playing.”

“Fuck me... another 6th grade game? Be joking.” James rolled his eyes and took a swig of his drink to punctuate the boredom in his voice.

“I’m not. Fucking you or joking. Now sit that pale ass the fuck down, Het, and have some goddamn fun, ok?”

“Besides, man,” Jason piped up. “Wasn’t this, in a round about way, your idea?”

“No, no. My idea was a fuckload simpler. I said ‘drink’ You’re the fuckers who come up with all this complicated bullshit.”

“Muthafuck.... Look, Het, quit bitching. You don’t see Kwirk fucking moaning do you?” Lars was searching the small room for something. James looked at Kirk. No, he was not moaning. Much to James’ dismay. “Fuck... no ice. I’ll be right back–.”

“I’ll do it!” Kirk spoke up, almost too eager.

“You better come back, asshole. I know where you sleep.”

Lars was adamant, and there was no talking logic(–or making excuses–) to an adamant Lars. Hell, there was usually no getting a word in edgewise and they all accepted and adored that. It was harder to adore Lars’ stubborn streak, however, when Kirk was trying so hard to hide the worry behind his eyes. James was so distracted by the fascinating struggle that he nearly jumped when Kirk touched his arm.

“Come with me to get the ice?”

James starred down at the thin, exhausted looking man. He nodded dumbly and then vaguely heard Kirk promise they would be back in a minute. James walked quietly beside Kirk down the hallway, watched almost unseeing as he filled the bucket, and then slightly behind back down the hall. The whole short trip James felt blinded to the physical and distracted by the silent words he knew hung between them. Once at the door to Lars’ room, Kirk’s shoulders rose and fell with one of those self-steadying deep breaths. The door was ajar, awaiting their return, but Kirk turned to James questioningly.

“Hey... you ok with this idea?” Kirk’s voice was just quiet enough to escape Lars. James just nodded, trying to capture the last threads of concern disappearing behind Kirk’s dark curtain of lashes. “You sure? ‘Cause... first time around, it was me and Uli... but... James, I had nothing to do with this, ok?”

It was back. That fucking beautiful concern in black pearls. James smiled a little. “If anything, it was *our* idea, Kwirk. Remember? A couple of weeks ago... when I was leaving your room....”

Kirk nodded without actually understanding. “And you said next time we played we should invite them. But, Jame... this is Lars being... unless you told him?”

James dropped his eyelids and shrugged, still smiling. “I might have mentioned in passing. But Kirk...” James lifted his head, met Kirk’s eyes, and brushed a stray curl away from his dark cheek Given the time, James would like to have reflected on why he was suddenly so bold. Time wasn’t something he was very patient with at the moment. “It’s just us, right? It’s just you, and it’s just me. And Lars and Jason... are our best friends and bandmates.”

Kirk nodded. James felt as if the temperature in the hallway had dropped in proportion to the volume of his voice. The dip seemed to bring them closer together, as if seeking warmth and understanding. A shy grin finally spread across Kirk’s face. “I guess we ought to get in there, then. They’re waiting for us.”

“Uh huh,” James barely whispered. “After you.”

Before he turned away, Kirk inhaled deeply. His chest swelled, the layers of his jacket ruffling James’ shirt. Acutely aware that this was the closest they had physically been in over a week, James mentally berated himself for all the procrastination and fear. He thought he saw the same regrets reflected in Kirk’s gaze, but before he could fix in on the shared stare, Lars’ bellow interrupted the moment.

“Unless you fuckers are pawing each other out there, get your goddamn asses in here! We’re fucking waiting!”

The shared smile was evident, as was their mutual aggravation with Lars for disturbing an admittedly directionless moment. Kirk entered the room, followed by James. Jason was finishing up with the tossing of pillows and blankets on the floor, presumably to make them more comfortable. Lars was already propped up against the foot of his bed, and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“What?” James challenged him good naturedly, grabbing a longneck.

“Don’t fucking ‘what’ me, Het. We’ve known each other so fucking long, we speak the same language and understand each other even when we’re asleep and 13,000 miles apart, so don’t fucking ‘what’ me!”

James handed Lars a Corona, and downed half of his own. They did understand each other and James knew after the stiff drink he had fixed, Lars would want a chaser. “So how about you stop fucking babbling and tell me why the fuck you’re waggling those over waxed eyebrows at us?”

“Muthafuck...” Lars took a long pull off his own drink.

“That’s what I thought. Dick.” James was still smiling as he lowered himself onto a pillow, and leaned against the leg of a chair. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and completely missed the hungry look Kirk had fixed on him.

Lars waved his hands in the air in mock surrender. “Ok, ok... I’ll just take my one track mind somewhere else and bother you when I’m more domestic.”

“Lars,” Jason’s voice echoed the quiet tone James had adopted earlier in the hallway. “No one wants that. But since we’re all here, right where you wanted us, why don’t we grab our drinks and start playing?”

James opted to keep his mouth shut, and instead just took another drink. Still, he smiled at the scene before him: who would have thought that Jason would be so adapted to the softer side of Lars? As they all settled in, got comfortable, and bullshitted, James found his eyes constantly drawn back to Jason and Lars. One was constantly touching the other. Not in a groping or obnoxious way. It was just a perpetual craving that they seemed to share: if Lars’ fingers were not on Jason’s thigh, Jason’s finger’s sought out Lars’ forearm. If Lars’ calf brushed up against Jason’s side while they shifted to become more comfortable, then he paused a moment to stroke him a few times with the side of his leg. It was almost odd, but almost cute.

“Yo, earth to fucking Het!” Ah, Lars’ abrasive welcome to reality. Followed by a quiet aside, “Second time tonight, man. You with us?”

“Yeah, fine... just–“

Lars waved his hands once again. “Don’t fucking say the ‘t’ word one more time.” For a brief moment, Lars had that tentative look that comes over him when he has said something and actually cares what type of reaction it gets. When James broke into that mile wide smile of his, Lars dropped his shoulders in relief and returned the grin. “Great, kick us off, man.”

Rather than argue and point out it was Lars’ brilliant idea, James shrugged. “Fine, truth or dare, Uli.” Shrugging, Lars quickly covered how off-put he was by this, and choose dare. “Kicking us off, huh? Fine... uh...,” James trailed off as he hoped up. Playing with the already playing radio, he found a local rock station. “Call the radio station and make absurd requests.”

“Like what?”

“Who the fuck cares? You’ll come up with something stupid to say. Here,” James rambled as he walked to the other side of the room. Thrusting the phone at Lars, James commanded, “You chose dare. Now dial.”

“Muthafuck... fine....” Lars grumbled as he dialed. After a few moments he readjusted his chin to speak into the receiver. “Hey... yeah, hello, who’s this?.... Awesome. Listen, my name is Lars... I’m in a rock band you might have heard of.... What?.... No, this ain’t no fuckin’ prank!.... Huh?.... No... it’s... ok, it’s a dare.... Yeah, muthafucker, a dar– What? Ok, fine.” Lars covered the receiver with his hand and looked up to meet the expectant glares of his band mates. “What? I’m on hold.”

The music on the radio faded out, and the dj’s voice came over the airwaves. “Hey, boys and girls... well, the crazies are out in full force tonight! We got someone on the line right now claiming to be a star. Really, he does one of the best impressions I’ve ever heard. Let’s see if we can get him on air.... Hey, dude... you there?”

Suddenly the phone buzzed from beneath Lars’ palm and the group realized the dj was talking to and about Lars. “Yeah, I’m here.”

Surround sound Lars: he was coming out of the radio as well as projecting from his spot on the floor. Great, in stereo: like he wasn’t loud enough.

The radio squawked mockingly, “Ok, hey there, Lars Ulrich of Metallica. So how are you this evening?”

Lars rolled his eyes. James was enjoying how annoyed the drummer was becoming already: served him right. “I’m fucking fine, asshole. What the fuck do you mean I do a good impression? How the fuck am I going to do a good impression of myself?” Of course, over the radio, it came out as a series of bleeps and some acceptable syllables.

“Whoa, whoa... calm down there,” the radio squawked in response. “You sure are keeping our sensors on their toes. Well, we sure are glad you’re checking in with us. So, stoked about the show tomorrow night?”

“Of course we excited. We’re... we’re... what? Hey, Dj Dickhead, hold on a second.... What the fuck you want, James?”

The radio mocked, “Ooo, he’s talking to ‘James’ everyone.” Kirk lay down on his side trying to stifle his laughter.

James suppressed his laughter to remind Lars of the dare.

“What the fuck you mean I gotta make an absurd request? Fine! Yo, DJ Dickhead, you still with me? Listen, I gotta make a goddamn request, alright?”

“Oh, sure, Mr. Ulrich... we’ll play whatever you want!” The Dj wasn’t trying very hard to hide his disbelief.

“Great, fucking fantastic. Alright... I wanna fucking dedicate muthafucking Yanni to my shithead bandmates.” The color was becoming more intense in Lars’ cheeks the longer this went on. It must have killed him to be mocked for being who he actually was, especially when he had spent his entirely life trying to become recognizable.

Dj Dickhead repeated, “Yanni?” The word was followed by dead air.

“Or Celine Dion. Or the fucking New Kids on the Muthafuckin’ Block! I don’t give a shit! Man, fuck this, Jay– I’m fucking done!” Lars slammed down the phone, and the room burst into laughter, as did the radio.

The radio continued to buzz, “Well, that was one of the more interesting pranks we’ve ever gotten. So, in honor of our Lars impersonator, let’s send out ‘Until It Sleeps’. This is for all of you lucky enough to have tickets to see Metallica tomorrow!” As the first few notes of the song filled the room, Jason reached over to the radio and switched it to another station. They all liked having music on in the background, but they would rather not pay any fines for a destructive Danish rampage.

Once again, Jason soothes Lars, “Dude, don’t worry about it. He’s a dj in hicksville, USA. And it’s your turn.”

“Fine,” Lars grumbled. He looked at Jason, who had just been so nice to him. Instead Lars turned his attention on Kirk. “Truth or dare, Kwirky.” Kirk was just getting over his fit of giggles and choose dare. “Great... touch James in an inappropriate place.”

Kirk got over his laugher in a hurry. James just rolled his eyes and looked annoyed. “Man, that’s dumb.”

“Fuck you, pisswad. A dare’s a dare. Go on, Kirk.”

Kirk looked at James almost apologetically. James sighed: apologetic was not exactly the look he was hoping to catch in Kirk’s eye when the smaller man was about to touch him in ‘an inappropriate way.’ James took a deep breath and waited as Kirk leaned towards him. Kirk slowly lifted his hand, stretched as he reached out towards him, and gingerly caressed... James’ nose. Jason nearly spit out his beer. Lars just groaned.

“What the fuck?”

Jason reasoned, “Well, that was inappropriate all right....”

“Yeah, this sucks,” Lars grumbled.

“Hey,” James began before tipping back the rest of his drink. “It was your idea. You wanna quit and just go hit a bar or something?”

Those words rekindled the stubborn streak in Lars, just as James knew they would. “Fuck no. Pick someone, Kwirk.”

Kirk eyed James before saying, “Ok, Jase– truth or dare?”

“Dare seems to be the standard.”

James uncapped 3 more longnecks. “And you wouldn’t want to go against the grain, would you, farm boy?”

Jason just took it in stride. “Fuck you, Het. Seeing the way you’re picking at those labels, I can tell you’re just frustrated.” James flicked a bottle cap at Jason’s head.

“Ok... dare you to... call up Bob and leave an obscene message!”

Jason laughed but Lars waved his hands in opposition. “Shit, enough phone shit! Jeez, it’s as bad as ‘streak’!”

Jason’s face lit a little, and he turned to Kirk. Kirk just laughed, but before he could open his mouth with the challenge, Lars continued. “No one’s fucking streaking! We gotta stay in this room, remember?”

James threw a bottle cap at Lars’ head this time “Buzzkill.”

“Fuck you. Someone’s gotta be responsible.”

“Ha! And you think that’s you?”

“Well, it sure as shit isn’t–“ Lars was cut off by Jason’s foot creeping up his inner thigh.

Ok, it was cute, but now it’s getting a little obnoxious. It couldn’t be that James was jealous, because gee, that never happens. James actually agreed with Lars, saying, “It’s as cheesy as ‘eat something you’d rather not’.”

Lars giggled, “I don’t think any of us would be opposed to eating anything in the room.”

Jason missed the obvious joke and instead thought of the various toys and props they had with them. “Dude, sometimes you’re so gross it makes my skin crawl.”

“That’s not a good thing, is it?” Lars laughed, and continued to stroke Jason’s leg with his foot.

“Damn, I thought I was the one diagnosed A.D.D.? You people can go off on a tangent quicker than– well... it’s quick. Jase, man, dare?” Kirk joined in.

“Eh, can I say truth?”

James bit his tongue and decided not to mock Jason for being a wuss. At least Jason had the balls to just *be* with the person he wanted.

“Fine... uh... got any pet names for Lars?”

Lars shot a look of warning over at Jason, who mildly shook his head. “Uh... can I go back to dare?”

“Fine.” Kirk folded his arms, smirking. “I dare you to tell us what your pet name for Lars is.”

Jason looked at Lars, and shrugged his shoulders defenselessly. Lars cheeks practically radiated heat they were becoming so red. Jason sighed. “Squirrel.”

James and Kirk all but squealed with laughter. Lars’ reaction to the admission alone was priceless: he was a deeper shade of red then after a 2 hour set. They weren’t sure why it was making him so embarrassed, but there had to be some brilliant reasoning behind such a diminutive nickname. “Oh... oh, man. You have to tell us why?” Kirk managed to choke out the words between laughs.

Lars was getting upset. “No, he fucking doesn’t!”

“C’mon, man,” James tried to reason. “You know one of us is just going to drag it out of him next time around.”

“Fine! It’s ‘cause I got so much energy, man!”

Now Jason was laughing, making James and Kirk even more interested in the truth. Jason muttered, “It’s not your question, babe.”

James reasoned, “Is it because he’s hung like a Squirrel?”

“Fuck that!” Lars was practically vibrating he was getting so upset. “It’s cos I’m the size of a Squirrel! A flying Squirrel!”

“Dude,” Kirk laughed in between each word. “You’re not making any sense!”

James was having fun. “Is he furry, too?”

Jason opened his mouth, but a nearly shouting Lars interrupted. “What the fuck is this shit? Jase, man, pick someone. You answered. Should have been a dare, but now pick–.”

Jason ignored him, and said in a completely serious tone, “It’s also ‘cause he likes to lick my nuts–.”

“Jase!!! TMI, man!” Lars was yelling, but blushing. This, from a man who has stuck his tongue down his guitarist’s throat in public. James could not get his laughter under control.

“Lars, babe,.... There is no such thing as ‘TMI’ in Truth or Dare!”

“Sure. Fucking fine. Now, pick someone, asshole.” Lars crossed his arms and practically pouted.

Jason focused hard on Lars, “Truth or dare, babe.”

“What me? Why me?”

“‘Cause. You. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“Why the hell are you with me?”

James took a gulp of his drink mostly to keep himself quiet. It was something they were all wondering, but he didn’t peg Jason as being confident enough to explore it with company. Apparently Lars hadn’t been expecting it neither.

“Jase... what the fuck are you talking about, man?”

“Why me, Lars? Default?”

James looked over at Kirk and could practically see his ears becoming red with anger. They all knew what Jason was implying, even if he didn’t have the balls to say it. Lars thankfully had a cooler head and just sighed. He reached for Jason’s hands, and placed his drink aside.

“Don’t think like that. ‘You’ ‘cause you are fucking amazing and adorable and–fuck, this is so goddamn cheesy– Jase, where’s this coming from, man?”

James looked at Jason, whose eyes were trying to suppress panic. The feelings had always been there, stepchild or whatever that they had made him feel like. So James jumped in, “Nah, man, can’t turn it around. Your question.”

“Fine. What do you want to know, Jase?” Lars sounded almost defeated, and James felt terribly for them: like this was putting a bit of a damper on the evening, but Jason clearly felt it was something he had to know.

“What would make someone like you want to be with someone like me?”

“Because you’re everything I’m not. You’re calm and wild at the same time, amazing with the fans, patient with the lot of us, and let’s face it: we’re pricks. You’re this bouncy, happy, fucking ball of fucking adorable energy, and it’s something I always kinda wanted to be a part of. But it comes out so... so... what the fuck’s the word?”

“Annoying?” Kirk supplied, a bit annoyed–but getting over it–they he had been lumped in with the group termed ‘pricks.’

“Yeah, thanks. Annoying and maybe insincere. And no one could accuse you of being insincere. Alright? Is that goddamned enough, fucker?” Lars was smiling at the end because fuck it all, Jason actually looked moved. Lars sparred him the effort of finding his voice, and instead just said, “My turn. Kirk?”

Kirk let out a heavy breath that must have been held inside during Lars’ little emotional tirade. “Uhm... well, since truth seems a little heavy, how about dare?”

“Easy enough. Uhm... snort salt.”

Kirk shook his head. “No snorting or sniffing or whatever of any kind, thank you very much.”

Lars face read ‘when the fuck did you grow a set?’ but his mouth said, “Oh, right, sorry. Fine... fine... put... uh...” He bounced up and searched through the mini fridge for his and Jase’s leftovers. “Put wassabi on your di–“

“No wassabi usage!” Jason yelled, then started laughing with James.

“Muthafuck! Fine... then one of you make a fucking suggestion! Dare is too fucking hard to come up with! Fine! Stand on your head!”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why not? It’s a dare!” Lars was shrieking now, and it was all James could do to stay in control and just drink his drink and keep his mouth shut. “C’mon, Kirk, it’s probably fun.”

Kirk crossed his arms. “Then you do it.”

“I don’t have to! It’s your dare!”

“Well, just pick something else.”

“You’re sucha fucking prissy whiney....” Lars trailed off as he paced around the room. Finally his face lit and he pulled Vick’s vapor rub out of his bag, and waggled his eyebrows.

“No fucking way. You know my skin is too goddamn sensitive.”

“Fine! Just deep throat a fucking bottle then, you princess bitch.”

Kirk grinned. “Now that I can do.” Kirk grabbed a longneck and sensually licked down it’s length before closing his mouth around it completely. James watched wide eyed and silent as Kirk’s mouth opened to let the bottle slip in, but kept his lips snugly around the smooth glass.

Lars giggled. “Alright show-off. Enough. Your turn.”

Kirk turned to a barely breathing James and asked, “Truth or dare, James?”

“Dare,” James croaked out before he had a chance to think. Kirk tugged on his goatee thoughtfully.

“Hmm. Jase, you mind if Lars helps out with this?”

Jason tipped his drink toward Kirk in silent permission. Lars, of course, spoke up. “Whoa, whoa... what are you asking him for? What about me–?”

“Uli, shut up. This whole damn thing was your idea.”

“How many times is THAT going to be throw in my face?”

“Until you quit arguing. So in other words, countless times. Just sit down and be a cute little prop. Now, James... you saw my mouth in action. My turn. Lick Lars’ neck.”

Jason swallowed. Lars grumbled. Kirk was waiting.

James crawled over to Lars, and leaned in a little. Lars barely tipped his head back, not wanting to help but not really all that put off by this idea. James could feel Kirk’s eyes on him, fascinated, and prompting James to put on a bit of a show. James clutched Lars hard by the shoulder to hold him still, and snaked his tongue out. Laying it flat against the little Dane’s Adam’s apple, James dragged the pink tip across his throat and up to his jaw line. James languidly ran his mouth over the warm skin, and felt Lars shudder a little. He nipped the ear lobe and pulled away smiling.

Lars spoke quickly, trying to cover his obvious positive reaction to the singer’s previously hidden talents. “No one said bite.”

James spoke quietly, “That’s why I stopped. Not part of the deal.”

Jason let out a shakey breath, but was smiling. James was relieved that Jason didn’t become upset or jealous; Jason and Lars seemed to understand this whole situation so much better. Maybe later they could give James some pointers. For now, it was dawning on James that he had just kissed the throat of his drummer as if it was second nature. It most certainly should not be that easy, should it? Considering that the only other man he had ever even thought of touching issued the dare, James was having a hard time making heads or tales of this.

“Jamey?”

He jerked his head up at the quiet voice, and found Kirk still watching him, still fascinated. James wondered if Kirk was trying to see what he was capable of, but decided against asking right here. The truth portions of the evening seemed awful heavy. So instead of uttering any words and risking his voice giving away his tumultuous thoughts, James responded with a grunted “Hmm?”

“Your turn.”

“Oh. Oh, right. Lars?”

“Muthafuck. Leave me the hell alone. Fine. Dare.”

James groaned and pushed his hand through his hair. “Man, I suck at these.”

“Oh fucking well. Shouldn’t have picked me again. Dare.” Lars affixed that obnoxious ‘ha-ha-I-got-you’ grin on, waiting to see what lame thing James would come up with.

“Alright. Stand on your head.”

“Fucker.”

Jason laughed. “Your memory is shit, Uli.”

Lars threw his hands up. “Fine, fine. I’m a real man. I’m not too shy...” He babbled the entire time as he fumbled around for a few moments. Lars finally did a sloppy somersault, then popped up, spreading his arms, waiting for applause. He scrunched up his nose when Kirk, James, Jason booed him.

“What? I did it!”

“No, you did a somersault!” Kirk protested reasonably. “You got beautifully toned arms, but your balance is for shit, man.”

It was Jason’s turn to grab the next round of drinks. “Yeah, I don’t think that counts. Make him do something else, J.”

“What, no, I did my–“

“Yeah, guys,” James protested. “I already came up with something! And he tried!”

As soon as James agreed with Lars, he did a 180. “I didn’t ‘try’ I succeeded. Fine, fine, you fuckers don’t think that counted? I’ll go again. I got the balls. C’mon, James, what ya got?

“Damn it, nothing! Just pick someone else–.”

“No! Gimme a dare!”

“Fine. Grow a mullet.”

“What the fuck?” Lars nearly choked on his drink.

“Yeah, yeah, man. Grow a mullet, drive an Iroc and listen exclusively to Molly Hatchet.”

“I didn’t understand half of those words!” Lars cried out. He wasn’t sure if this was a joke or what.

“Ah, the true way to my heart...” Jason was joking too? Lars narrowed his eyes like he suspected a set up.

“You’re a dick, Hetfield. Now come up with a real fucking dare.”

“I know!” Jase shot up his hand like he was in grade school.

Lars opened his mouth, looking like he was going to protest that it was not Jason’s turn, but James spoke quicker. “Go ahead, New– uh, Jase. What you got?” James caught himself before he put a crinkle in the smooth moment between them.

“Kirk and Lars have to swap boxers.”

“Hey,” Kirk squeaked, grabbing another round. “Why am I involved?”

“Ok, come on, dick. Why not? We’ve swapped spit. Who cares if we swap drawers?” Lars reasoned.

Kirk glanced over at James and colored. “Well, you can give me yours, but–.”

It was James turn to blush, as he skipped over thinking why Kirk wasn’t wearing shorts and rather went directly to thinking of the complete lack of–

“Earth to muthafucking James! Fuck, if I had a dollar for every time I said that tonight--”

“What, fucker?”

“I said, you still want us to go through with the dare?” Lars was smirking as if he had gotten out of something.

James winked at Jason before answering, “Hells yeah, man. A dare’s a dare.”

Lars popped up, and James mulled over quickly suggesting that they help each other out of their pants. At the moment there was no way they were all drunk enough and there was no way Jason would be comfortable with the hot guitarist undoing the pants of his lover. James avoided thinking how it would make him feel, as he was preoccupied with how he was feeling immediately.

Lars unbuckled his jeans and dropped them down. He turned slightly towards Jason, and if James didn’t know better, he would be sure he saw Lars sway his hips a little. Aw, hell, the little Danish dick probably did, judging by the way Jason was swallowing. As Lars stepped out of his boxers, Kirk began to undo the buttons on his own pleather pants. Lars stepped back into his jeans, pulled them up and then twirled the boxers over his head like a stripper. Kirk avoided looking in James direction, but he was captivated as Kirk peeled the black material off and revealed his newly inked flames. James’ ice blue eyes warmed up as he sat transfixed by the art of Kirk’s skin. Before he realized he could check out whatever he wanted, Lars had tossed his boxers over and Kirk was pulling them on. Then the comical portion of the evening kicked in as Kirk wrestled with his skin tight pants, trying to pull them over Lar’s plaid boxers. He jumped around gracelessly for a moment before losing his balance and falling onto the bed. Kirk looked more annoyed than anything as laughter filled the room.

“Ok, so it was Lars’s dare, but I’m the one getting punished? Fucking great.”

“Hey, hey, Kwirk. No goddamn need to drop the f-bomb,” Lars teased.

“Aw, but Pixie,” James reasoned, “He sounds so cute when he squeaks in anger.”

“Damn it all, can I just say fuck off to these and put my pants back on?”

Jason had another brilliant idea. “Dude, why don’t you just stay in Lars’ boxers? They have to be more comfortable, sitting on the floor and all.” Kirk shrugged and acquiesced; they all saw the logic.

‘Fine. Fucking great.” Lars shifted, uncomfortable as the stiff denim rubbed against sensitive skin. With a spiteful look on his face, Lars looked at James. “Truth or dare, fuckhead.”

James laughed and took a drink. “Ok, ok, I guess you’re entitled to a little revenge. Dare, Lars.”

Lars eyed the radio and turned it up a bit. “Do a strip tease to the next song that comes on.”

Kirk opened his mouth as if he was about to come to James defense, but did a double take when James simply agreed. “Really?” James smirked as Kirk squeaked again.

“Sure. At least I’m not wearing Lars’ boxers.” James stood up, tipped his drink all the way back and drained it. He would need as much false confidence as possible if he was going to go through with this. Not that he had any real doubts that he could hold the attention of those in the room, but he doubted he was entirely comfortable with the type of attention he was about to get. Still, a dare is a dare. “Just how far is this supposed to go?”

Lars smiled as if he was feeling generous if only because of James’ acceptance. “As far as your comfortable. Briefs?”

“Boxers, dick.” James retorted, but smiled. He was still a little distracted, but started to sway a little unsure as a song started. James tugged at the edge of his shirt, and was startled when Jason let out a playful whoop. “Why do I always feel outnumbered?” James joked.

“Hey, man, we’re the iron fist most of the time. We gotta get our revenge somehow.” New Kid actually winked at him. This was getting surreal.

James took his time pulling at the edges of his black tee shirt, pulling it off over his head. He watched his friends with a mixture of curiosity and a vague awareness of how bizarre this all was. James found the same looks turned back on him as he unbuttoned his jeans and started slinking them over his slim hips. Kirk pulled a pillow over his lap. Kirk’s face spelled out that he was suddenly very sorry he had taken Jason’s advice to wear just Lars’ boxers. Kirk definitely didn’t seem more comfortable in the thin material. Then comic relief part two of the night began: inexperienced as he was at slow seductive stripping, James had left his boots on. Tugging the jeans towards the chunky shoes threw James off balanced, and he hopped around awkwardly as the song ended. Lars and Jason howled with laughter.

“Fuck you guys,” James said good naturedly, even though he was slightly embarrassed. If Kirk hadn’t been watching, he probably wouldn’t have cared. “I’m not used to taking my clothes off so slow. Usually just tear them off, throw them in a pile–“

“Why? If you don’t move fast enough, your chubby might run off?”

James kicked Lars playfully as he rebuttoned his jeans. “Dick. Fine, my turn. La–“

“Hey, what is this? ‘Truth or Dare’ or ‘Lars and James fuck with each other’?” Jason looked like he was feeling left out.

Kirk laughed. “That’s a good game, Jase...”

“Whatever, okay. Jason, truth or dare?”

“Dare, dude.”

“You ass. I fucking hate coming up with dares! Ok... you have to answer everything for the next two days ‘Yes, I like to take it up my ass’.”

“The fuck I do! We’re doing a press conference tomorrow!”

James just shrugged. Kirk stepped back into his peace making roll by reasoning, “We said everything had to stay in this room. So... something he can do now.”

“Fine, I dare you to come up with a dare and then do that dare.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Man, you are one lazy fuck. Fine, my dare is that Kirk serenades one of us. Ok, I accept. Kirk?”

“Wait a minute! You’re the one that was just bitching you were feeling left out! I don’t care if I’m left out! Leave me out of this!”

Lars barked out a laugh-like sound. “Nah, that’s Jason’s dare to himself. What should he sing, Jase?”

“Uh.... ‘Have You Seen Her?’ bu the Chi Lites!”

“What?” There was that squeak again. Did this guy have a tone of voice an octave lower then ‘only audible to dogs’? “Jase, speak our language!”

The more uncomfortable Kirk seemed, the more into the idea James got. James looked around, and saw Lars’ mini kit. When he found out that Kirk could record in his room whenever he had an idea, Lars insisted he have the same comforts. One of the roadies was responsible for setting up a mini kit and a 4 track in the self centered midget’s room before he got there. As if there was ever a drum track that just had to be put down immediately. James rolled his eyes, but was for once happy the kit was there. James ran over to the stool and encouraged Kirk, “Sing, Kirk! C’mon. Alright, I’ll give you a beat....”

James plops himself down at Lars’s kit and starts pounding sporadically. Kirk just laughed. “What is this new fascination with my mouth?”

“It’s nothing new.”

Kirk was grateful he was already laughing, or else the surprise at James’ easy admission would have shown clearly on his face.

“Smooth, James.” Lars tipped his drink up in a toast.

“Yeah, that’s me. Smooth.” James continued to tap on the drum heads. “Kirk, c’mon, this alleviation shit s your job.”

“Nah, you already broke it with humor, Het. I have no purpose here.”

Jason spoke up, “Ah, sure you do. It should be your turn.”

Lars waved his hands as if this game was out of control. In truth, they were all getting a little too tipsy to notice. “Hold on... Jase didn’t do anything. Kirk didn’t do anything. How the hell are we going to move on?”

“‘Cause this part is boring, man.” James supplied them all with more drink: there was no such thing as too tipsy. Or too drunk. Or too bold, right? “Jase, do what you want, man.” James admitted to himself that he felt some kind of kinship with the bassist right now: they would take control of this insanity away from Lars and Kirk. Or just Lars. Or just Kirk. Or whatever. “Jase?”

“Uh... Kirk. Truth or dare?”

“Damn it, truth. I’m not risking you making me sing again or some stupid shit.”

Jason let the drink cloud his better judgement. As he had before with the truth option, he went right for what he was wondering about. “What happened on the tour in 1994 that you’re hiding?”

James shut his mouth tight, clenching his jaw. He couldn’t decide on a reaction–or emotion, happy that Jason had asked and relieved him of the job or pissed off that Jason had made the atmosphere thick and tense and again and upset that Kirk was upset. There were too many thoughts streaming through James’ mind to focus on and give voice to one, so instead he opted to stay quiet.

As one might guess, it was Lars who spoke up first while Kirk just paled, being put on the spot. “What? Jase, what the hell are you talking about, man?”

“You–and you,” punctuating his words by pointing at Lars then Kirk, “know damn well what I’m talking about. What have you been whispering about? And what does James have to do with it?”

“Hey, I don’t have a damn thing to do with it!”

“Well, you knew something at rehearsal the other night. C’mon, it’s my turn. It’s truth. And I want to be let in on it. So just answer.”

“Fuck that.” Kirk’s lips were a light pink because of how tightly he had them pressed together. “Either give me a different question, or–.”

“Jase, just pick Lars. Kirk is being a spoiled brat.”

“Screw you, James. Why can’t you just take no for an answer?”

“Why do you think you’re the only one who has the right to say ‘no’?” James was getting angry at the little Filipino’s obstinance, and now at his challenging. “What, certain rules apply to all of us except you?”

Kirk looked at Jase and Lars. “I’m not in the best fucking mood to play right now–“

“Kirk, don’t leave!” Lars practically yelped as Kirk stood up. James smirked: Kirk really was acting like some high school drama queen, and Lars was totally playing into it. They all had to notice this, right?

“Relax, man. I’m just getting more drinks. All I was going to say is, would you take my turn for me?”

Right, because *more* alcohol would make this situation better.

“Oh, yah, sure.” Lars eyed Jason. “Dare, man.”

“Fine,” Jason said, starting to fume. He looked as though he felt completely shut out. “I dare you to tell what Kirk and you–“

“Oh, FUCK!” Kirk threw his hands up from across the room. He fixed a look on Lars that pleaded ‘don’t you dare.’

Lars turned back to Jason. “C’mon, Babe. That’s not a question for me. And I said dare. Just pick something else. Or ask something else.”

James looked around the room, feeling the comfort slipping away. Once again, his family was going to be at one another’s throats. Once again, a nice night was going to be ruined and he would have to leave a room where he had felt loved and warm and even fucking safe. He would have to go back to bed–alone–and let the what ifs run his life. So he tried to speak up and mend things, fully expecting it not to work. He never could fix shit like this, and any family he was a part of seemed to fall apart. “Jase, just ask something else, man. C’mon... please?”

Jason’s eyes flashed over to James, but his features were immovable. “I don’t want to know anything else. You wanna ask him something? You ask him something.”

“Fine, Lars, man, how many languages do you know?”

James couldn’t see Kirk since he was standing behind him, still fixing drinks. But he could see Jason and Lars. Jason barely flinched, and Lars looked utterly confused.

“James, that’s fucking tame, man.”

“Just answer, guy.”

Lars was searching James almost suspicious, and it was Kirk’s turn to look confused. Lars shrugged, and proceeded to babble as much as he could. As the repertoire went on, it became clear that James had tried to lighten the mood once again with a bit of humor. Even though he would be the first one to say he sucked at that, he kept trying. And Lars was playing along. For who’s sake? That didn’t matter. The atmosphere–with the exception of a tumultuous Jason–was looking slightly sunnier as James and Lars swapped lines.

“Ok, then. If that’s what you want, Katza.”

“That’s German. Then obviously there’s Danish.”

“Obviously. Very good, Kotek.”

James flashed his teeth in a half growl, half laugh. “Can’t you give me a straight answer, dick?”

“What fun would that be, Pisicuta?”

“Ok, what the hell was that?”

“Romanian.”

“You know Romanian?”

“No, not really.” Lars tipped back his drink, finishing it off. Kirk would be over in a moment with more. “But I was sticking with a theme.”

James chuckled. “Good job, man. Ah, I learn something new about you... well, way too fucking often!”

James and Lars laughed, and Jason even cracked a smile. Kirk hadn’t said a word, and stayed mute as he passed out more drinks. He lowered himself onto the pillow, and looked at Lars.

“You’re turn.”

“Ok, uh....”

“Pick me.” His black eyes were fixed on Lars as if there were no one else in the room; as if he were afraid to admit there’s was anyone else in the room.

Lars looked lost for a minute, and then just gestured towards Kirk.

“Ask me.” Kirk set his jaw, trying to look unwavering.

“Ask you what?”

Kirk looked at James out of the corner of his eye, but it was enough for the singer to notice. Then Kirk locked onto Jason’s eyes. James was sure no one noticed that he shivered when he saw the cold look Kirk was giving the bassist. “Ask me whatever he wants to know.”

Lars sighed. All that silly work undone. “No. Fuck that. Kirk, c’mon, man. Let the fucking thing drop. It’s ridiculous to harp on something anywa–.”

“We got no secrets here, right?” Kirk turned a slightly softened look on to James. It seemed as if his eyes were apologizing for what a mess this night was, what a mess it all was becoming. “Go ahead, Lars.”

“Fucking fine, you twisted ass. Man, and I thought James was the stubborn one. What... fuck. Tell them what we’ve been talking about every time we allude to ‘94.” Lars continued to grumble a little about how this was utterly stupid and dumb and all kinds of other interesting adjectives. James got lost in the black pearls that were piercing him.

There’s a peculiar feeling that washes over you when you know you are being set up. It’s that little voice in the back of your head that screams get out, get out. In James case, it sounded more like ‘Danger, missekat... get your shields up’ He heard that little voice too late. James was stuck in a moment where Kirk would either drop the other shoe and make all his past feeling seem foolish, or would say just the right thing and they could move forward.

Just the right thing never seemed to happen in James’ life.

Kirk’s tongue darted out between his lips, moistening them for a story. His eyes looked tired, but his mouth was curled into a half smirk as if he couldn’t care less about what he was about to say.

“Weird fucking tour, that, huh? Lot of partying. Seems we were drunk for most of it. So I can’t remember the exact date, but it was sometime in July, and we had just played a show in Chitown. In fact, it was Glenn’s last show opening for us. Everyone remember the night I’m talking about?”

Jason spoke up. “Yeah, he came on stage to do ‘London Dungeon,’ ‘Last Caress,’ and uh,... something else....”

“Green Hell,” Lars practically whispered. He closed his eyes. Maybe to remember, but he probably did so to avoid watching Kirk ruin his life.

“Yeah,” Jason continued, “Man, everyone was all over the place that night. Remember Suicidal Tendencies came up with us for ‘So What’? Man, that was fucking wild. That bass player they got is an animal. He’s got a cool style. I should call him up or something....”

Jason trailed off with a happy smile, thinking back on how great that night was. Kirk just looked at him like his exuberant ramble was prolonging the inevitable.

“Yeah, fucking wild night. We’re were all in a great mood. And last night with Danzig: all the more reason to party hard.”

James hadn’t said a word; he was trying desperately to recall anything out of the usual that night. They had all gotten so fucking trashed, the whole night was either a blur or blacked out. The next morning he had awoken in his room, in his bed, in his boxers. He didn’t think twice: that was the norm. Either one of his friends helped him or some groupie. They usually stuck around if they could though. Kirk’s lips were moving again, and James fought to dissipate his current haze so he could focus on what he was being told.

“Well, James, you were nearly passed out anyway, and Lars and Jase were still going strong. So I took you home. Or, to your room. Which wasn’t that strange: I had been doing it for years. But this night was different. This too fucking hot night in July, you kissed me, James.”

James had barely heard the last words because they made no sense. “No fucking way.”

“No way?” Kirk laughed. James wasn’t sure if it was his own imagination adding the mocking note to the usually pleasant giggle. “Why not? You kissed me the other night.”

“But... that was years ago... and I definitely....”

“Were repressed?” Uh oh. The note was now angry. “Yeah, you’re still fucking repressed. Repressed needs, repressed memories... But you did. You pressed your lips against mine. You were probably blacked out for the whole thing. But I didn’t know that.” Kirk’s voice became quieter, as if he was running out of steam or nerves. He let out one of his now trademark shakey breaths.

Jason’s smile faded. “Kirk?”

“Kirk, fuck, you don’t have to.” Lars opened his eyes.

James was becoming irritated, feeling more and more confused. “The fuck he doesn’t! What? What more? What happened that I don’t remember? Just tell me what I did! Did I grab your dick?”

“No....”

James crossed his arms. “Didn’t fucking think so.”

“But I got greedy.”

James just stared through him, having no idea what the hell that meant.

“I thought... fuck, James... I thought *finally* you were making a move. I knew I couldn’t make a move, or you’d kill me. So when you kissed me... I... Well, you fell back into the bed. You were still holding onto me for balance, and I fell with you. And your eyes were closed and you were almost smiling... and I let my hands wander. You moaned a little, I thought you were into it... and it... “

“WHAT?!?”

Kirk felt as if he had been talking to himself until James roared. He jumped up and started stalking around the room as if he was caged by the very people he thought he loved.

Kirk’s face was easy to read: James, please, listen. “It took me a couple of minutes to realize you... weren’t even awake....”

James stopped and stood rigid, glaring down at his bandmates. “So, I passed out and you groped me?”

“Ok, James, it wasn’t like that–.” Lars opened his mouth to try to ease the situation, and now he wished he were dead.

“The fuck it wasn’t! And YOU! You’re supposed to be my best friend! Where the fuck were you?”

Lars jumped up, and avoided the question. It wasn’t much of a height advantage, but ti was better than nothing. “Kirk is your friend too!”

“Oh, yeah. CLEARLY. Fuck... I was right. I can’t trust any of you!” James was still yelling, and went back to pacing. He couldn’t get away from how violated he felt. This was disgusting! This was what he got for trusting his friends, for making himself vulnerable to anyone. And yeah, Kirk was saying he only touched him a little, and just a few hours ago James would have walked through a pillar of fire for that touch. But now it was different: it was dirty and vile. And this was only what Kirk was fessing to with witnesses! Somewhere in his trek around the tiny room, James found his voice, “So what the fuck gives, Kwirk? When I’m throwing myself at you like some pathetic skirt, I get sent to bed with a kiss? HOWEVER, when I’m passed out, you cop a feel? Fucking sick, man!”

“James, I thought–“

“No, but you should have! Make up your mind before you pull me into your twisted world, ok? I got my own fucking problems!”

“And they are the only problems that matter, aren’t they, Het? Fine!” Kirk was now on his feet, but staying a good distance from James. “Fine, go live in your little fucking self centered bubble!”

Lars looked at the both of them, and spoke in an incredulous tone. “How much longer do you think he’s going to wait around for you, man?”

James face turned to icy stillness. Lars realized too late that James thought Lars was addressing him. Both Kirk and Lars knew that Lars intended that question for Kirk. It was too late though: the room was way too small, and filled with too many people that couldn’t be trusted and were only going to find more and more creative ways to hurt him. James lunged for the door and made a mad dash for physical freedom. He’s mind was damned to retelling Kirk’s story in a fucking loop.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lars squeaked his eyes shut, and felt the swift wind caused by the door slamming rather than actually watching James storm out. He snapped his eyes open to Kirk’s desperate near screech.

“Oh my god! He has to come back!”

“Why?” That was Jason’s voice. What the hell was going on? Why was it, if the sunset and the members of Tallica gathered, they suddenly slipped into the Twilight Zone? They weren’t that fucked up, were they? Kirk looked panicked, and in truth, Lars could understand that. If Jason had started growling–or screaming like a little girl, because let’s face it, Jason just doesn’t growl–and walked away after Lars had revealed *his* deep dark secret, well, Lars would have had a shit fit. Of course, nothing Lars had to tell Jason was as fucked up as what Kirk had revealed. Lars had been into Jason for a few months, maybe 9 or 10. It seemed like a long time for Lars to have kept his mouth shut, but it was nothing compared with the near decade and a half that Kirk had suffered in silence. So, he had slipped up once–or twice. In the grand scheme, that was fucking nothing. Of course, rules of normality rarely applied to James, and that was something they, as his best friends, should know. Ok, Kirk was only human, and Lars should try to control his temper. But he had been doing that for long enough. When he perceived a wrong, James stood his ground and fought tooth and nail. This time he had left. Just left. No last word. No bitter sentiment to leave them to thing on. James Hetfield looked utterly wounded, and he turned, and he walked away. Lars didn’t think Kirk or Jason truly grasped how bad that could be.

“Kirk,” Lars finally found his voice, and surprised himself with how controlled it sounded. He must have surprised Kirk as well, because the dark man snapped his head towards the sound and immediately quelled his near hysterics. “You are so bang on about James distancing himself and all the shit that goes along with it. I know you are. You and me, we’ve discussed it to death since the dawn of fucking time. That’s the way it feels. And, man, I’m proud of you... what I mean is... I’m happy for you for saying something....”

“But he left! And this isn’t like you and Jase! Damn it, why can’t this be like–.”

“BECAUSE IT’S JAMES. Fuck, why can’t you be quiet? Talking... MY job. Now shut the hell up, Kirk! Listen, this isn’t your little fantasy world. This isn’t your idea of what James should be like. He’s a real human being, and we all know he’s fucked up. But you know what? You’re fucked up, too! We’re all so used to pinning everything on James, putting it all on his shoulders... everything is his fault and his problem, right, Kirk? What I was trying to say is you hit the nail on the head when you were worried about James distancing himself, but what you can’t see is that you yourself are doing the same fucking thing! He’s on the line, man. And you’re just going turn your back?”

“What the fuck? ‘Cause I’m the one that walked out?” Kirk’s face was twisted up as if he was trying to actually hear what Lars was saying, but his rising temper was getting in the way.

“That’s not the point, Kirk. C’mon, look at this. James was right. You pine after him like a little girl, acting like a fucking puppy at times, though he never noticed, and then he finally does. You know James: throws himself headfirst into a project and trusts the people that he now feels foolish to have around him. So, he comes to you, and suddenly, you got cold feet?” Kirk started to shake his head, opened his mouth to cut Lars off, but Lars wasn’t having it. This wasn’t the direction he wanted to go anyway. This was all apparent, to him at least: he wanted to push Kirk forward. “Look, man, taking your time is one thing. But... c’mon!”

Kirk point now moot, or at least quieted, Jason spoke up instead. “He’s right. It’s like you guys actually moved backwards.”

“Well, maybe you guys sucked all our energy.”

Lars cocked his head to the side as Kirk actually pouted. That was just a weak excuse. Lars shook his head, trying not to let on how inappropriately amused he was. “Nah, nah, nah. You can’t pin this on us.”

“I’m not trying to ‘pin’ it on anyone! Just... think about it... it makes sense... I mean, the sexual tendencies of the band had to balance out, and since you two moved forward at such an accelerated pace–“

“Stop thinking so goddamn much! Stop worrying about balance! Go be happy, dipshit!”

Jason smiled. Lars seemed vocally spent. “We’re all very different, Kirk. But if you were happy, I have the sneaky feeling James would be too. And I’m not saying you want to wallow in this muck or whatever, and, look, we know you didn’t mean to move backwards... but... well, what the hell happened?”

Kirk just shrugged. Lars rolled his eyes. Great, this was all very productive.

“Listen, fuckhead, not only are you going to lose James, but you’re going to lose me as well!”

Jason sunk down onto the edge of the bed. Lars glanced over at him, his heart clenching at the lost look on Jason’s face. Alright, so he had just fucked up the mood Jason was trying to create, but he was frustrated!

“You’re threatening me, Lars?” Kirk tried to sound mad, but the fear seeped through.

“No, I’m trying to help.”

“By giving me a heart attack? Look, it’s bad enough I’m losing... ugh! I’m losing my mind, Uli! Fucking help me here.”

“Help yourself! You’re acting like your afraid of finally having your feelings in the real world.”

“Ok, maybe I am afraid. Don’t tell me you’re not afraid of James!”

“No, I’m fucking not! And you’re not either! You may want to fucking think you’re afraid of him, just to make this–this new denial you got going on-- easier or some shit. He gives you... fuck, he gives none of us any real fucking reason to be afraid. Afraid of what? That we’ll say something to him or show him something we shouldn’t have done anyway and he’ll make us feel like shit cos we should feel like shit? So he’s not the most nurturing human in the world, but you knew all this, you little shit. Don’t go jerking his feelings just cos–“

“Lars.” Jason’s quiet tone always seemed to freeze Lars. It was always like that, but neither of them really noticed until recently. Now Jason was putting it to good use. “Babe, you’re getting off track again.”

“Fine. Kirk, I want to smack you right now. You deserve it, and probably even need it. But I won’t. And more over, James walked away, didn’t he? Didn’t stay and scream, certainly didn’t hit ya–“

“Even though I deserve it?” Kirk’s tone matched Jason’s. Fuck, Lars was in trouble now.

“Yeah. Well... yah.”

“Maybe he should have.”

“That’s the point, he wouldn’t.”

“Maybe it would be better if he did. Maybe... maybe that’s what I wish he would do.”

“What the fuck is this obsession with James’ violent side?”

“Think about it. Every time he actually gives a rats’ ass about something–like a track or a note or Cliff–he puts his fist through something. So how the fuck am I supposed to take his feelings seriously when he’s being someone I don’t recognize? It’s not his temper or physicality I’m scared by, ok? It’s my own goddamn feelings for him.”

Lars’ brain rambled faster than his brain could translate it all into sounds. He mentally swept over all the ways to explain to Kirk that yeah, taking things seriously was a fucking pain in the ass and how it might be a little too late to act like never ever happened. Jason looked like he was in complete retrograde, and couldn’t find a new way to explain things to Kirk if his life depended on it. Damn, Lars hated cliches. There should always be a different way to explain things. That’s when he mind clicked on a last ditch path to Kirk’s thought processes. “Fear is just an acronym for fuck everything and run.”

Kirk looked like he was going to die laughing once Lars spit that out. Jason looked even more lost. Lars knew that paraphrasing a Steven King line, this one from “Bag of Bones” would do the trick. “Uli... just... what the fuck?” Ok, Kirk was laughing. This was good. Maybe now he would focus.

“Hey, you’re the one that got me into all this horror bullshit. But... I’m not just trying to get your attention. It fucking applies. You’ve been fucking everything in sight for years and running for years. Quit it.”

“I have.”

“No, the running. Not the fucking.”

Jason laughed out loud and they both looked at him. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just all this talk of James... and fucking... I’m sorry. It’s funny to me. Like he’s some fragile damsel in distress. Meanwhile, Kirk is gesturing around the room, wearing Lars’ boxers–!” Jason cut himself off with the returning fit of laugher. Kirk looked down and smiled at the boxers before tearing them off, balling them up, and tossing them at Lars’ head. As Kirk slipped his pants back on, Jason continued. “I mean, this is James fucking Hetfield. He’s not going to break, y’know?”

The three of them had a laugh at Jason’s point of the absurdity of it all. As Kirk was coming down from the laughter, a calm remained. That was exactly what Lars had intended; now if only Kirk would stop arguing. “Lars... damn. Maybe I don’t want to fuck him.”

“Well, you should have told *him* that up front, man!” Lars huffed, but chuckled a little. Kirk didn’t want to fuck James: yeah right, and the world’s flat.

“It’s just... this kissing thing?” Kirk sank into a chair, and glanced over at Jason, then back to Lars. “This is just way more personal, y’know? But... I...”

“Don’t know how to deal with it?” Ah, there was Jase. It was Lars’ turn to pace as he tried to let Jason have a go and making some sense to Kirk.

Kirk nodded. “Yeah, it’s a mindfuck. But it’s probably worse for him. Just trust me on this one, ok?” Jason smiled reassuringly.

Lars was seriously running out of patience at this point. “Well, then maybe you ought to fucking think of someone else for a change.”

Jason sighed at Lars’ volatile temper, but Lars could see that Kirk heard the humor in his voice. “In all seriousness, man–“

“Does this mean another fucking speech?”

“Fuck, it might. And you ought to fucking listen. You think you can get away with going too far, and most times you can. It’s you, part of your charm, whatever. Most times we’re here to bail you out. It’s different this time, Kirk. I know you know that, but do you know why? It’s because it’s not the real world we’re protecting you from. It’s our inside world. Look, we have to protect our own, but it’s you two, and–. Kirk, I love you, man. I think you and James are a great idea. But I love Het more than either of you get, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let you fuck with his head. You keep pushing, but one time, James is going to shove back. And he doesn’t forget. You want to make your move and make it mean something? This is your chance. Fuck it up, and you won’t get another. James might think you are worth it, but he won’t sacrifice the band.”

“You don’t think I already fucked it up too bad?”

“Nah, not yet. Yeah, James explodes from time to time. Yeah, I want to keep you safe. But... ah, fuck. Just go get him, would you?”

Kirk looked petrified. Great: so much for progress. “Why?”

“Kirk, don’t be so stubborn.”

“‘Cause you guys have the market cornered? No, I’m tired of giving into his shit storms.” Kirk crossed his arms, and yup, the pout was back.

“Oh, bullshit. I know you. You’re scared, you waited and wait, now it might be happening.... And oh, yeah, you’re scared, and so you’re trying to figure out a way out of it, out of being with him. But oh yeah, it needs to be his fault. Just fucking go talk to him!”

“Stop saying I’m scared! You keep saying–.”

“Oh my fucking Lord!” Jason stood up. “You both talk too much! Fuck you pussys; I’ll go talk to him! I’m sure you two queens can sit here and find tons and tons more words to throw around the room! Shit, you’re giving me a headache!”

Lars blinked. He would regain his voice just a moment later, but Jason had already kissed him and walked out. The door slammed shut again, and Lars nearly giggled as the rhyme of Ten Little Indians crept into his head.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Jason dropped a quick kiss on a stunned Lars before he left just to make sure the Dane didn’t misunderstand. He wasn’t mad at the two smaller men, he was just getting a headache listening to them go over every single detail a hundred times until they had examined each point from every angle and made what could be nice and simple as agonizingly complex as possible and AH! Enough! They were so wrapped up in the Escher world that they didn’t realize time moved on in reality. The longer they talked, the longer James was alone, doubting himself.

James wouldn’t be too hard to find. Jason stepped into the elevator and opted for the sub basement. That was the fetching thing about fame: no one questioned you and you could go most anywhere you wanted. So, if the lead singer wanted to wander down into an area of the hotel in which only staff were allowed to do the day to day chores, then so be it. At the elevator’s ding, Jason found himself wandering down a dim hallway. He followed the quiet rumblings and soft scents until it all became more distinct. Turning into the plain room, Jason found what he was looking for.

Sandwiched in between a washer and a dryer, with his head back against the wall, eyes closed, one leg pulled up to his chest and the other stretched out, sat their fearless leader. On the floor, in the basement, in the laundry room. Jason thought back to one of James’ few moments of loquacious frailty. He had, for no particular reason, shared with Jason a story about his childhood. When his parents would fight, he would go into the laundry room and hide there. They rarely looked in there, and he could camouflage himself amongst the piles of clothes. Something about the warmth of the vibrating machines and the smells of fabric softener and booster made him feel safe. Sometimes when his mom would do laundry, he would sit on the floor playing with tin trucks and just being close to her. These seemed to be fond memories, even thought they were tinged by anger and chaos. Jason didn’t question why James had gone on about it all; later he realized that in that moment James longed for that feeling of warmth and safety. It was early on in Jason’s tenure, and James of course had been half in the bag. In the chaos and turbulence of losing someone else he had bothered to love, James had a moment of weakness and admitted to feeling lost. Jason didn’t see it then, just getting to know them. Thankfully he remembered, and now here they were, years gone by: James thinking he had lost another piece of his already fractured heart and curled up like a child seeking the familiar safety.

Repressing a sigh, Jason entered the room. James didn’t acknowledge him, and Jason just sat on the floor, his back against the door of the washer. He wanted to protect them all, but knew from experience you couldn’t force your hand with this lot. He sat there for a few moments, doing absolutely nothing, like a statue. Eventually, James emitted an audible breath, and scooted up a little so that he could lean against the dryer and turn to face Jason.

The first words out of his mouth as he emerged from his sheltered space didn’t really surprise Jason. James dove right in. “I want to know what else has been done. You know... to me. By him.”

“Sure you do.” Jason kept his voice quiet and even, not threatening or challenging in the slightest.

“I do.”

“No, I believe you. You know so much, you’re ready for the rest. Curious. But... do you want to know why you want to know?”

James laughed as if it was obvious. “I don’t need you to fill this in for me, Jase. I want to know ‘cause I was fucking passed out! He... really could have done anything, huh?”

Jason nodded, and waited. James trailed off a bit, and Jason didn’t want to interrupt. Finally, he supplied, “You want to know what you were missing.”

James’ face crumpled as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “Yeah.... yeah.”

The dryer spun at a high speed, the vibrations massaging James’ neck. They sat in silence for a moment longer as James’ mind spun trying to make sense of the hellacious nights’ game.

“I don’t get the motivation. I mean... why?”

“Why you, you mean?” Jason asked. James nodded. “As opposed to... me?”

James chuckled. “No, instead of like, a willing groupie. Male or female. Shit, there are much better looking and totally willing– No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t want you to feel like you have to blow some smoke up my ass about how attractive I am.”

“Nah, you’re an ugly fucker.”

Jason laughed with James. It would be Kirk’s job to convince him otherwise about his appearance: Jason was here to get him back upstairs.

“Right, thanks, man. Right back at cha, buddy. I just mean, if nothing’s different... why would Kirk do all this? All this confessing? And why would Lars help?”

“Remember that night we went to Silvi’s? Lars and Kirk were sitting in the backseat on the way back to the hotel, and Kirk had his head on Lars’ shoulder. I just remember getting kinda jealous. That was the first time I actually admitted to myself consciously that I was... gah, how do I put this? Attracted to? Interested in? Well, Lars is just... special. Deserves to be an exception. And that’s when I realized I was bothered by the intimacy that Lars and Kirk shared. It wasn’t like you and I exactly had something to rival it, and then I had to be mad at myself for thinking that way.”

“I’m... sorry.”

“No, James, that’s not the point! Aw, man. The point was, I looked back there and I knew what I was missing. And I took a chance, because that little motor mouth has a damn heart as big as his mouth and it was worth the risk and all that other cheesy stuff that you guys mock me for.” Jason stopped talking long enough to share another laugh with James. “Dude, all I’m saying is sometimes you can just tell when something is worth every risk and every obstacle. When something *seems* right, it probably is.”

“Should I take this chance to mock you?”

“You could do that. Or you could tell me what happened to cause this rift between you and Kirk in the first place?”

James sighed. That was the harder–but more productive–route. “Well, you know Kirk and I had a round of games on our own? And somewhere in there, he asked if I had ever kissed a guy. Which he already knew from Silvi’s that I hadn’t.”

“So you thought he was calling you a liar?”

“And trying to make me uncomfortable, show me or something, yeah. Turns out he had just been thinking on it, and thought I was just reluctant to let on the truth or something. But, you know, he was wrong. And from there, man, the tension just kept building then breaking... build and break... like a fucking ocean, and I’m drowning. Like... like, uhm....”

“Like foreplay.”

“Fucked up foreplay.”

“Well, it IS Kirk....”

James laughed, then studied Jason. Jason watched the blue eyes shift curiously. “I guess I had you pegged wrong, man.”

“You all did.”

James just nodded apologetically. Good little innocent farm boy Jase sure was taking the Mighty Het to school.

“I’m not clueless, James. I’m just....”

“Tired?” James supplied that a little too quickly, and Jason clamped his mouth shut. Jason tried not to regard him too cautiously, but it was force of habit. Jason nodded and James continued, “Tired of having to be careful?”

Jason exhaled. “Yeah, exactly. But, James... Lars and Kirk may seem more... uhm, comfortable, but they have their demons, too. I was afraid if I let on how I felt, Lars would run to you. And then I’d get like, attacked again–.”

“We fucked you up good.” James sounded so sad. He leaned his head back against the dryer and closed his eyes again.

“That’s one of the risks I was talking about, man. I know you got your own fucked up blockades set up against being with a guy.”

Jason was cut off by James’ gruff laugh. “Yeah, so we fucked up your mind so you would fit in with all our fucked up minds!”

“James, dude? You gotta focus. You’re getting as bad as them.”

“Heaven forbid.”

“Ever wonder why Kirk and Lars seemed to get off on pissing me off? So did I. See, it wasn’t Lars and Kirk kissing that made me uncomfortable, it was the idea of you all finding out and judging me and hating me or being pissed off and disgusted by me that made me uncomfortable. It was never clear if they were joking, y’know, doing it just to be pricks or if they actually enjoyed themselves–“

“Knowing them, probably a little bit of both.”

“But when I caught Lars looking at me that night we were all out, well, I knew the look. It was how I had been looking at him. It was how Kirk had been looking at you.”

James was quiet for a minute, fearing his question. “And me? How did I look on the lot of ya?”

Jason sighed. “James, that’s really not for me to tell you. You can make up your own mind.”

“I thought I had. I asked Kirk not to let me back out. I didn’t know then that he just wanted to see how I would react and now he’s bored with the whole concept.”

“James, you think he’s just trying to shock you, get a rise out of you? Yeah, ok, he is... but not in the yelling-fighting sense. This comfort thing they have going on with their sexuality? Man, it’s an act. C’mon, it’s an act for all of us. Tell me your not *still* surprised every time some girl throws herself at you?”

“Yeah, it’s frickin’ odd, but such is life in a band.”

“You never get used to it though. How things used to be will always be fresh in our minds, and so... they just handle it differently. Hell, we all do, right?”

James nodded. “That’s what makes us ‘us’: charmingly dysfunctional.”

“So... what happened?”

“When?”

“When Kirk asked you again if you had kissed a guy?”

“Oh.” James didn’t go on: he just shrugged.

Jason rolled his eyes. “So I’ve heard.”

“Huh?”

“That was pretty much Kirk’s response when Lars tried to get deeper with him. I’m gonna need a little more from you than nothing at all, dude. If you need a little more too, you gotta talk to me, cool?”

“Oh. Well. Eventually we kissed, then some drunken assholes banged on the door and interrupted us. Then... then he kinda sent me back to my room.”

“Alone?!”

“Yup.”

“Wow... that’s.... he didn’t mention that.”

“Right, so that threw me off, y’know? I guess I just didn’t know how to act the next day. I didn’t want to act like anything was weird, so I tried to act normal, I guess that was wrong. I don’t know... I was kinda hoping he’d take the lead, like... show me what to do or something. But then he just seemed bored by the whole thing.”

Jason’s heart twinged again at how unsure of himself James was. “James, man... bored? Look, Kirk may be a little ADD at times, but you just don’t–“

“Hey, Jase, what do you want me to say? I was confused about how I felt, so I ignored it rather than stir something up. And I was by myself. Then I told Kirk how I felt, and I’m still alone. And... damn, he acted like he wanted me too.”

“Are you sure he knows how you feel?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure. I thought I knew how he felt–read the look like you were talking about? So that’s where I get all screwed up, all unsure.”

“And talking to him is out of the question?”

“Isn’t that what you tried to do? Why it took you so long to ‘find’ me?”

Jason laughed. James was not dense, no matter what people wanted to believe. “Well, maybe Lars and I aren’t the ones he wants to talk to. He looked freaked, like panicked, when you slammed the door, man.”

“So you’re saying I should go to him? Again? Like I have no pride or dign–“

“James, don’t assume just because Kirk is more open about his sexuality that he’s any more emotionally mature than you. You’re both fucking stunted.”

“Shut the fuck up, Newkid!” But James was laughing.

Jason stood up and reached down to James. James accepted his hand, and Jason helped him up. They both dusted the dust off their jeans, then James shoved his hands in his pockets.

“What... what do I do now?”

Jason smiled: the little kid innocence wasn’t completely gone. “We get on the elevator, and you go find Kirk.”

James nodded and took a deep breath. Jason followed suit, and felt full of the warmth and comforting scents of the room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taking a pile of clothes from the floor, and throwing them on the chair, Kirk realized that his cleaning was pretty ineffectual. So he stopped, and put his hands on his hips and just looked around uselessly. Useless and small, that’s how he felt. Kirk had finally left the tired drummer’s room after they had talked until Lars was literally blue in the face. Kirk would have been proud of himself for finally finding Lars’ limit, had he not been so distracted by the hotel room door. It never opened or closed after Jason left. In truth, Kirk had finally left Lars when they both realized James wasn’t coming back to make everything all better.

Kirk dropped into one of the tan, standard, bland, overstuffed chairs and knotted his hands together. Instinctively, he started doing dexterity exercises. He could go find James. How many times had James inadvertently found him at the right moment and chased all the demons away? He should go find James. Kirk knew he was being a small man: petty and pathetic, and he wished he could stop. If he were with James, he would have the strength to move beyond his current rut of being. Of course, it was wrong and sad to depend on a relationship to fulfill your own holes. If he could put an end to his weaknesses right now, then he could be with James. He stood up and sunk back down again, physically imitating the roller coaster called a catch 22 that his mind was taking him on.

Finally Kirk stood up, and headed towards the bathroom. He would splash some water on his face, clear his head, and then decide what to do. An all to familiar sound froze him in place. The door slammed open and his heart stopped. Kirk willed himself to turn and face the entrance as James stomped into the room. James’ eyes swept the unkept hotel room, and his breathing seemed a little irregular. His fists were balled, but Kirk recognized it more as a stubborn war within the large man convincing himself not to turn on his heel. James came in, paced in front of the beds, and Kirk crossed to close the door. Just as he was about to go back to the bathroom to get that much needed splash of water–his mind was still in turmoil about what to do, whether James had handed himself over on a silver platter or not. Kirk had barely taken two steps when James spoke up.

“We need to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Kirk shook his head a little, and spoke quietly. But as the color drained from James face, he silently cursed himself.

In an oddly controlled half growl, James just uttered “Fine” and started to stomp back to the door.

Being closer and quicker, Kirk was in front of the door before James reached it. He put his hands behind him to make sure he didn’t lose balance and fall against the door. While they were back there, Kirk made sure the lock was latched. Despite not actually fearing any violent lash out, Kirk couldn’t help but shudder as James loomed over him. “F-fuck. James, wait, ok?” James just nodded. What was with everyone suddenly not interrupting? Were his bandmates truly so confused by the snowball effect of all these answers out in the open? And how was he effected– oops. Large man, still standing very close. Kirk realized maybe now wasn’t the best time to retreat into a little thought bubble. “Ok... ok. Think back on when I wanted to kiss you and you were afraid you’d fuck it up?”

James answered quietly. “Yup. In a hotel room just like this.” Damn, his voice sounded so on guard, like he was sure Kirk was screwing with him. James had come here to talk, and maybe if he got Kirk to ramble he would slip and show that he was trying to trick him the whole time. Just one flaw there: the most terrifying part of this was that Kirk actually felt everything he thought he was feeling.

“Well... I’m afraid of talking because I usually just fuck it up, ok?”

James shook his head side to side. “But I kissed you anyway.”

“Yeah.” Kirk’s hands moved in front of him and he moved a little closer to James. “Yeah, ya did.”

James voice was still quiet, and it was driving Kirk out of his mind. When he didn’t yell, every note of emotion was stripped raw. Of course, James couldn’t yell because of how close they were: he might blow out Kirk’s ears. As it was, that would be better than the stabbing pain in his chest caused by James reply, “And I really fucking liked it, you bastard.”

“Jame... I’m glad.”

Kirk should reach out to him. He should wrap his arms around him right this second and take back everything he did to screw this up. Then it was too late: James turned those ice blue orbs on him. “So... what did I do wrong?”

Oh god, the stabbing pain was getting worse. Kirk let out a sigh, trying to get a hold of himself. “Nothing, James. Why do you always blame yourself?”

Kirk thought about how there was no one else to blame for all the things that had happened. Even in the band, it was James’ broad shoulders that took the abuse. Who were they supposed to blame? Lars took a good amount of work on himself, and berating Jase had gotten stale. Innocent little Kirk? Never. James was an easy rock to throw all the shit against.

James tried to ease the strain of the moment with–you guessed it–humor. He shrugged and muttered, “Instinct, Kwirk.” Too bad his tone gave him away.

“If you and I had been listening to our instincts for the past few weeks, we wouldn’t be so miserable right now.”

Kirk couldn’t take it another moment. They were so close; he could feel James’ breath on his cheek. That man still had the lost boy in the woods haunting look in his eyes, and if Kirk didn’t touch him right then he probably wouldn’t have been able to stay upright. Both dark hands flew to either side of James’ head, guiding the pale cheeks down. Kirk’s lips pressed firmly against James’ mouth, not demanding anything more than contact. It was James who leaned forward, and Kirk’s back pressed evenly against the door with James hands on either side of his head. James bent his elbows, effectively leaning in closer to the warm body and deepening the kiss. Kirk’s head swam: this was so easy, so right... so what the hell was all that before? As the days faded away from Kirk’s memory, he indulged in the spicy tang of James’ tongue. After a moment more, James pulled his lips away but stayed close. Kirk knew that even though James had given in to not talking, he still had something that needed to be said. The singer was gearing himself up, and Kirk was trying to come down enough to make sense of it all.

“Kirk, show me.” It was more of a breath than anything else.

“Anything.” Kirk pressed his lips lightly to the corner of James’ mouth. “Anything, just tell me....”

“Show me what I missed, what I’ve been missing.”

He stood back just enough that Kirk had to meet his eyes. It took a split second to put it all together. Kirk went a little pale when he grasped what James was asking for. “James, please, I can’t. I mean, that was just an accident, I swear....”

“A bad memory? A time you fucked up?” It was Kirk’s turn to nod dumbly. His chocolate eyes wandered from meeting James’ eyes to settling on his lips. All he could think about were those lips weren’t touching him. That is, until those lips formed more words. “Then steal it back. Make it a good memory. Kirk, give me a chance to enjoy it.”

Now was not the time to freeze. Now was the time to move. Damn it, move your hands, move your lips... no, not more words. Shut up, Kirk! “Didn’t you even sober up enough to realize?” Please, don’t respond.... Each word uttered from this point would just make things more and more difficult: why was he such a masochist?

“Ha! I find it better not to let myself get too sober. Too many bad memories waiting for me.”

“I won’t be another.”

Kirk hadn’t realized those words were out loud until James reacted. He smiled but looked down and didn’t answer. This response was familiar to Kirk: it was the way James reacted when Kirk promised he had finished working on a solo or promised he would be on time. It meant James wanted to believe, but couldn’t let himself: otherwise he would just be let down again. Somehow laying down a track and kissing ass with suits seemed totally trivial when compared with something like being trusted with James’ emotions. Finally, Kirk’s mouth was moving without making any coherent sounds.

Kirk stretched up to kiss James’ eyelids. James’ head was bowed, and he naturally closed his eyes. Ok, no more words: he couldn’t manipulated them like James could to make sense and bare his secrets. It was time to just give James what he thought he wanted.

Kirk knew he must have looked so delicate, but the barely masked gleam in his eyes promised that his actions would demanding rather than delicate. That’s not to say his fingertips weren’t gentle as they trailed over James’ collarbone. Kirk watched his own hand, fascinated as it traveled over James’ shoulders, down his arms, and across the singer’s stomach, earning little sounds of approval from James. Kirk tugged at the edge of the tee shirt, thinking back a few hours ago when it had been pulled off in the dared strip. He wanted to get rid of it, but not yet: that wasn’t part of the re-enactment. Instead, Kirk let his nails skim over the zipper of James’ jeans. Dark lips curved into a smile at how responsive a conscious James was: he titled forward into the touch. Kirk laid his palm flat against the front of James’ thigh, running it over the muscles. Then his hand wandered to the rear thigh, and was slowly drawn up, over James’ ass, to rest on the small of his back.

It was quite clear that he was only waiting for a word or some kind of permission to continue. James gasped quietly, but kept his eyes closed. Kirk watched James’ lashes flutter and brow draw together as if the singer was trying to grasp a memory. The smaller man took a steadying breath as James suddenly recalled the series of touches. Not from years ago, but from weeks ago: these were the motions Kirk had made in the hotel room the night they played “Never Have I Ever” by themselves. Kirk half hoped that meant James realized that Kirk had already done this, had already tried to recreate and thereby reinvent the memory for him, with him. Only Kirk had tried to do this for James without ever having been asked. Kirk looked up at James when he gasped softly, terrified as if he had been caught sinning against James, and now he would be forced to stop. At least if James was unconscious, there was no one to tell Kirk when to stop. While Kirk’s mind searched rapidly for the stroke that would convince James to let him continue, he had no way to know that James’ mind wasn’t in this moment. He was letting the rest of the night from the past play out, the one during which he was conscious and more than willing. The last words that Kirk had said before ‘good night’: ‘Why tempt the devil?’ James smiled and brushed his fingertips across Kirk’s cheek. Kirk shivered and sighed, relieved at the barely there touch and the smile that had accompanied it.

“Is this my chance to tempt the devil?” The whiskey drenched murmur caused the reserve to drop from Kirk’s eyes like a lead curtain.

Burying his hands in James short blonde waves, Kirk nearly bruised James’ mouth with his kiss. Kirk pushed the taller man backwards, until his calves hit the edge of the bed. Just as Kirk was about to give him the extra nudge that would bend James’ legs and land them both on the mattress, James pulled away chuckling softly.

“Whoa, whoa, guy....”

Whoa? He couldn’t want to stop! That was not the way a man kissed when he wasn’t enjoying himself.

“Kirk,... what else?”

“Uhm... oh, well, after I... sorta stroked you, I lifted your hand and... sucked on your fingers. That’s when I realized you weren’t awake, and James, as soon as I knew, I stopped, I–.”

“Show me.”

“Show you?”

Kirk had spoken so quickly when he couldn’t read James’ face, that the simple question threw him. James just kept on smiling; Kirk was going to need to sink to the bed *soon*–either onto the bed or his knees. James lifted his hand, as if offering it to Kirk, palm up. “Show me what I missed because I had my eyes closed for so long.”

Damn, did this angel in devil’s clothing have a way with words.

Taking his hand, Kirk ran his tongue down the center of James’ palm. He pressed a soft kiss to the inner wrist before moving his lips back up the fleshy heel of James’ rough hand. Kirk let the tip of his tongue run the length of James’ middle finger. He closed his mouth over the tip and guided the finger in a centimeter at a time. Lifting his eyes but not his mouth, Kirk met James’ steady stare. Kirk was pleased with himself at the smoldering approval he found there. Holding the gaze, Kirk swirled his tongue around the base of James’ finger, swiping it over the knuckle. He pressed closer to James, depending on his strength to keep them upright. Given the near constant moaning, Kirk knew it was only a moment before James buckled. He had to make the moment mater. Scraping his teeth gently over the skin, Kirk used his own hands to pull James’ hand away from his face, out of his mouth. A moment later, he shoved it back in and sucked as hard as his stomach full of butterflies would allow.

“Oh, fuck... I could fall in love with your mouth.” James’ voice was little more than a growl, and that was just the way Kirk liked it. Another wave of pride washed over him as he thought about how he had manipulated the man he adored into feeling so good.

He pressed his lips tightly around James’ knuckle to keep the digit in his mouth. Kirk continued to suck forcefully as he moved his hands to James’ hips. Leaning with him to keep the connection, Kirk pushed James back onto the bed. As James laid out, Kirk crawled over him. Finally releasing his finger, Kirk sighed as the hand fell limp onto the bed by James’ side.

Kirk ran his hand over James’ face, and he closed his eyes. James let out a quiet sigh and got a little smile on; it said to Kirk that he was just letting himself just feel for the first time he could remember. Kirk watches James’ body twitch as it became accustomed to his touch; it occurred to him James must not often close his eyes and trust another person in bed. James felt Kirk moving his arms above his head, so that he was stretched out and prone. Kirk stroked James’ scared cheek and spoke softly. “God, James, I’ve waited so long to touch you. Just to stroke you and be gentle. Show you that love doesn’t always mean violence and pain. You don’t have to hurt... and I wanted to show you for so long...”

James whimpered. At first, neither man was sure if it was from the light caress or the words Kirk was whispering. James brow knit in frustration or confusion–Kirk wasn’t certain. When James’ eyes flew open, he was searching desperate and hungry, as if he knew he had to watch Kirk while he spoke. When James’ eyes flashed open, Kirk’s expression changed instantly from cooing sweetness to something more fierce. Kirk was clearly reading what James needed even if he couldn’t figure it out himself.

“I wanted to show you that the word love doesn’t have to always mean hurt or hard, rough or complicated. I know I fucked that up good.” James opened his mouth to protest, but Kirk pressed his own lips down to stop the sounds. Kirk moistened James’ drying lips with a swipe of his tongue, then pulled back, the fierceness still flashing in his eyes. “And I said I wanted to just stroke you and be gentle... but aw, hell, I’ve waited this long... I can wait a little longer.”

James eyes went wide in panic. Kirk wished he could instantly sooth the questions away. It was pretty clear James was wondering if those words–spoken to try to seduce, not scare–meant Kirk was going to leave... again. James must have almost gotten used to people leaving him, but at least most people only did it once. James eyes searched Kirk’s, and he lay still, as if any motion would scare Kirk away. Kirk tried to quickly derail that train of thought so he scrapped his teeth along James’ collarbone. James mumbled a thankful prayer to whatever power allowed Kirk to read his eyes and his thoughts. Kirk smiled against James’ shoulder: the man was probably too delirious to realize he had muttered anything aloud. Kirk needed James to feel, James needed to feel, and they both needed Kirk to be forceful to prove that this wasn’t a fluke. Already they had too many near hits under them, and James couldn’t stand a night of gentle playfulness that he would doubt had meant anything when morning came. That didn’t translate to Kirk know exactly what James needed, he could only pray to that same distant power that it was exactly what Kirk was giving to James.

James tangled his hands in Kirk’s hair, and Kirk felt some of James’ tension slip away as he gave up control. Kirk pushed James’ shirt up and was nipping gently at his chest.

“Do you know how badly I want to just lay you down and worship your body? Just spend hours running my tongue over every inch of your skin?” Kirk’s words elicited a moan from James. “Promise you’ll let me some day soon?” James just moaned at the loss of Kirk’s mouth on his hot skin. “Promise me, James....”

“Whatever you want, Kirk...”

“I want you.”

It was James’ chance to turn dark and savage eyes on his friend. “Prove it.”

It was the challenge Kirk had been praying for for years, and had denied himself in recent weeks. Clasping down on James’ hips, he pressed the larger man firmly into the mattress and settled himself between his long, strong legs. James struggled to keep himself in control. His mind lost the ability to cling to that notion or any other thought when he felt Kirk’s hot breath on his skin. A moment later, Kirk was sliding his tongue along the waistband of James’ jeans. His blackened nails scratched James’ tummy as Kirk nuzzled his face against the straining crotch. Kirk put his hands on James’ hips, pushing them down, and held him still. He wanted to use his mouth to experience everything. Trailing bite-laced kisses over each hip and over the top of denim covered thighs, Kirk enjoyed feeling James try to move against him. He enjoyed more the power to hold him back. As he moved his mouth towards the zipper, he felt James stiffen. When Kirk moved on and caught the zipper lead between his teeth, James’ hands found Kirk’s shoulders.

“Ahh....” James lifted his head and shoulders off the bed, trying to hold Kirk still.

Kirk let the zipper slide from his mouth, the cold metal resting on his lower lip. The indecision and worry etched on James face made Kirk’s shoulders drop. It looks like he wasn’t going to get his way... this time. Kirk crawled back up the long body and tried to settle down beside him, but James was still harmfully gripping his shoulders. Pressing his full lips against the chords of James’ throat, Kirk started whispering as soothingly as he could without whimpering in pain.

“Shh, c’mon, there.” He broke up the nonsense syllables licking and suckling James’ skin. He trailed kisses up to James’ ear and stroked his chest. “Jame, relax, I’m not going to–.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” James breath caught in a choke, but at least his grip eased up.

“Wanna talk to me?” Kirk didn’t bother to look up at him; rather he kept up the gentle lapping. James was cooing despite himself. James shook his a bit, his cheek rubbing against Kirk’s hair. If Kirk met James’ eyes, would he see it as challenging? “Please tell me....”

Kirk’s hand rested on James’ chest, which rose and fell in indecision. “I just don’t know if I can.” James’ voice sounded small, but he went on. “Thinking about it all? Fine. Took me awhile to admit to it, but... ok, fine. Kissing you? Eh... a little weird, but, ok, fine. But....”

Kirk shut his eyes. He couldn’t let James over analyze and over think his way out of this. Given the chance, he would find a way to rationalize and then... and then they would be right back in the cycle. James Hetfield was finally actually physically in his bed. More importantly, he was there willingly and conscious.

Letting his lips wander, Kirk stroked his hands over James’ body. While he explored unintrusive and gentle, he mumbled continuously. He didn’t quite have the growl that could bring a grown man to his knees like James, but his voice could be a seductive purr when manipulated right. “Don’t challenge your feelings, James. You and I have gone over everything so many times, we’re at a stalemate. Over and over, again and again, enough.” He punctuated the last word with a little bite on James earlobe.

Then Kirk went back to his murmuring. “I know it’s been a roller coaster few months for you and I’m so sorry. I wish I was man enough to have– well, I can’t take it back. But, James, 14 years is a long fucking time.” Kirk paused for a breath... and to skim his teeth over James’ Adam’s apple.

“I think I’ve let every possible scenario play out a million times.” Little nips along James’ collarbone caused his heart to beat faster under Kirk’s palm. “Heaven, hell, all points in between. So what now?” Kirk’s teeth closed on James’ nipple through the thin cotton of the worn teeshirt.

James arched up, and Kirk’s mouth moved on. “So now we try reality rather than fantasy. I know you’re ready. I know I am.” He pressed his face into James stomach and bunched the edges of his shirt in his hands. “I used to want to be hurt by you... I admit that. When you were at my door, half drunk and looking for a round two? If you felt trapped, got violent...” Under his hands, Kirk felt James chest swell as he filled his lungs with air to reply. Kirk quickly nixed that idea by swirling his tongue over James’ belly button. A half laugh, half gasp came out instead of any kind of argument. Especially since he knew James would debate this next point, Kirk worked his tongue furiously fast to erase James’ mind before he continued. “I wouldn’t have been able to stop you and I probably wouldn’t want to. I was that desperate for your touch. How sad is that? You know what’s worse?”

James whimpered something that sounded like a ‘no’. Kirk rubbed his nose side to side over James’ abdomen. “Considering how desperate I’ve been... I let you leave. How fucked up is that? Don’t answer.” Kirk’s teeth sunk into James’ flesh slowly, eliciting that delicious combination of pleasure and pain.

“I said to you... you can’t fuck it up if it feels right.” Kirk pressed his chest against James’ groin. Even through the jeans, Kirk felt James’ jump, aching towards the contact. “So tell me, James, how does this feel?” Kirk moved his lips up James’ soft side, licking the slight curve of his waist and earning a moan.

“Do you like that?” Kirk asked teasingly.

“Oh fuck, yeah!” Well, that was quite an outburst. Someone was wound awful tight.

Kirk smiled before bowing his head. The translation of that from Hetfieldease was ‘more, please.’ Hey, who was he to deny? Kirk ran his tongue back down over James’ belly and found himself happily kissing along the waistband of the ever present jeans. Kirk reached for James’ hand and intertwined their fingers. James tried to raise his head, but it fell back on the pillows. He did his best to look down at Kirk through heavy lashes.

“Did you like the way that felt, James? And how about when my lips were wrapped around your finger? When my tongue was teasing your knuckles? Did you like that, Babe?” Kirk’s other hand was undoing James’ button and easing the zipper down as he spoke. James mumbled something about it all being ‘hotter’n hell and feels better than heaven’ before dissolving into muttered swears and Kirk took that as a green light. Squeezing James’ hand a little–to make sure he would get the point through his haze–Kirk finally asked, “Would you like my tongue to tease something more sensitive?”

“N-no! Kirk, no more teasing–please! Please... I... fuck... I have no idea what I need here....”

“I do.”

Kirk used both of his hands to tear off James’ jeans with little ceremony. He pushed his way up and in between the pale legs, which bent naturally to make room. Kirk pressed his nose against James’ thigh, close to where it met his hip. The sensitive skin there felt hot against Kirk’s cheek. He let his tongue sneak out and drag along James’ pelvic bone. Kirk was practically salivating.

James tried to issue a trademark growl which came out as a little whimper. “Please, Kirk, I need you....”

Kirk slid one hand lower, and held James’ balls. They were high and tight already: James wasn’t going to last too long. Kirk trailed his tongue up the underside of James’ cock. The initial touch earned a slight jerk and surprised yelp. He paused to kiss and tongue the ridge before whispering, “Stay with me, Baby.”

Kirk closed his mouth over the head and hollowed out his cheeks. He stroked one hand along the shaft and eased his mouth down, even though he was sucking hard enough to swallow the man whole. Kirk let his mouth inch over James’ dick, feeling it throb against his tongue. He used his tongue to press the cock up against the roof of his mouth. Swirling his tongue around the width, Kirk started to pull his lips off again. As he did, James’ head rubbed against the ridges on the roof of Kirk’s mouth.

“Oh... god... K-Kirk....” James pressed his head into the pillow, his fists into the mattress as he choked out Kirk’s name. Kirk pulled off slowly again, taking his time to savor James’ taste. Working the head with his mouth as if he was making out, Kirk firmed up his grip on James’ balls, rolling them. Kirk raked his nails over James’ bare thigh, and James started to pant faster. Kirk swallowed James and pulled off roughly a few more times, never letting up the intense suction.

“Kirk... I’m... fuck, close, man...”

‘Just let go, James.’ Kirk thought, pulling his lips up over the pulsing shaft. No way in hell was he going to let go to speak. James was damn close; Kirk could feel him swell within his mouth. Gripping James’ dick, Kirk pushed the head against his inner cheek. The soft and warm stimulation at the tender tip pushed James over the edge. Moaning in praise of Kirk’s lips, skill, and self, James rocked his body up, giving in to the orgasm.

Kirk kept his lips wrapped around James’ head as the searing hot streams filled his mouth. Continuing to stroke James gently, Kirk drank down as much as James had to offer. Feeling James melt, Kirk delicately removed his mouth, placing a kiss against James’ hip before crawling up into his arms.

Kirk’s tongue darted out to swipe the last of James’ seed into his mouth. James peaked from beneath heavy lids just in time to catch the action, and weakly pulled Kirk in for a kiss.

“Mm, fuck... I taste good on your tongue.” James’ voice was still practically a moan, and Kirk laughed. Sated he was; subtle he was not. “Kirk... you think.... You think this changes things?”

Kirk laughed quietly. “I think it’s safe to say this–.”

“No, I mean, are things *really*.... I mean, tomorrow.... Fuck. Ok, I don’t know what I mean.”

His dark fingers twisted in James hair before Kirk brushed a blonde lock off his forehead. James looked like he was still struggling a bit: like he should be cringing from Kirk’s delicate touch and instead he was craving it. “I do know what you mean. But James, tomorrow? You’ll find me right here.”

James smiled, and held his eyes. He didn’t drop his face like he did when Kirk was lying. James kissed him firmly, and then answered, “Good. I think we have some unfinished business.” James slid his hand down Kirk’s body as he stayed curled in the singer’s arms. Unfastening his leather pants, Kirk realized how hot he had gotten. Dumb move not to take these off before; now it was like peeling away latex gloves.

Even as he was purring at the touch, Kirk felt compelled to warn James. “I know this might sound ludicrous, but I think I’m too worn out to... do much.”

“Well, do mind if I just stroke you?” James sounded so unsure of himself, and all Kirk could do was nip at his neck at that question. His voice was failing him; he hoped James understood the bites were a very firm ‘oh yes, please’.

His hand was unsure but explored anyway. Sinking beneath Kirk’s waistline, James looked surprised when he was in direct contact with very smooth, very hot skin. Kirk’s cheeks flushed at the initial sensation. “No boxers, remember?”

James moved closer to kiss Kirk’s jaw. “You’re so fucking hot, Hammet.” The sweat made Kirk’s skin slick, and James’ calloused fingers slid easily over his cock. Kirk would have loved to respond, but he was having a hard enough time breathing. Precum caused by the excitement of sucking James off had mixed with the sweat, and James wrapped his hand tightly over the slick skin.

James’ rough hand played over Kirk, sometimes treating each inch as a different fret. This made Kirk laugh softly against James’ shoulder. His hardened fingertips awoke each of Kirk’s nerve endings, the touch flying over them like fingers over strings stretched too tight. James’ other arm came to encircle Kirk’s waist pulling him in close. As he started to speed up, Kirk watched James’ muscles flexing. His mind reeled that this was happening, that James was throwing so much energy happily into making Kirk’s body feel good. Soon fire he didn’t know he could muster was swirling in his stomach and at the base of his spine.

“Fuuuck!” Crying out, Kirk pressed his face into James’ skin.

As the smaller man panted against James chest, he wrapped his arms leisurely around him. James placed little kisses in Kirk’s hair on his forehead. After a few moments he caught his breath and the spinning of his head slowed.

“Oh, James, oh, wow.... I didn’t think.... You’re... fucking wow, Babe.”

“Amazing.”

“Yeah, it was.” Kirk kissed James’ shoulder. He couldn’t quite lift his chin to meet the man’s lips yet. It would take a bit before enough energy returned as was required to move.

“I meant you, Kirk.”

There was nothing more he could do except to continue licking James’ salt-tinged skin. It wasn’t like he could stop, no matter how tired he felt. “Aren’t you glad we finally got this all sorted out?” Kirk chuckled softly.

“I’m still not convinced that talking things out actually solves anything.” James voice was light, but serious enough. Stubborn bastard.

True, it had been actions that finally made sense--well, as much sense as the members of the band could make to one another. So if all that meant was James needed more time to come to talk about his feelings, then Kirk could live with that. “Does that mean you need some more convincing? Because that’s a challenge I think I’m up for.”

Kirk dragged his tongue up James neck and the vibrations of his laugh filled Kirk’s mouth. “You’re talking about being up? I doubt you could get up for anything right now.”

“I could always get up for-- yeah, I think your right.” Kirk had to laugh at himself. He was feeling something new: sexually mollified. And just from James’ *hand*. He was in big trouble when they got some sleep and explored further, and Kirk loved it. He licked his lips and smiled up at James. Just as he was about to open his mouth to talk, there was a loud thud followed by several smaller crashed from next door.

“Lars, aren’t you tired? C’mon, lay down....” Jason’s voice traveled through the wall. Clear as day there were several stomps and some muttered curses. Lars was awful clumsy when he was worn out.

“Yeah, I’m fucking tired, but I’m not going to goddamn bed. Wait... hey, I’ll stay awake for sex!”

Kirk rolled his eyes. There was another loud crash, followed by a string of Danish curses. Then a loud ‘oomph’ which must have been Jason, and bedsprings creaking obscenely.

James laughed and looked down at Kirk. “Think we ought to tell them we’re ok?”

“Like we don’t already fucking know that, you noisy bitches!” Lars’ voice carried through the wall as if he were in the same room. “Nah, we’re done with you assholes for the night. We’ll finish fixing you in the morning.”

“Greeeeeat.” Kirk giggled. “We’re in real trouble now.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” James whispered, wrapping a black curl around his finger.

“Lars, they seem to be just fine.”

“Oh what do you know? Now get naked!” Lars sounded demanding, but there wasn’t any one--probably in the entire hotel--who couldn’t hear the smile in his voice.

“Actually, dickwad, he knows quite a bit. Now quiet the fuck down... some of us need our beauty rest.” James punctuated his words with a thump from his fist to the wall.

Kirk enjoyed the moment from the warmth of James’ hold. He lowered his voice so it wouldn’t travel. “You know, I’m never going to let him live down that ‘watering hole’ comment....”

“Maybe,” James paused to kiss Kirk’s forehead. “Maybe we should ease up.”

So Jase wasn’t clueless and a kinder, gentler James was unveiled. He would get his bite back after a good night’s rest. That wasn’t real likely to happen, though. It was nearly morning now, and Kirk already had plans for James when the darkness returned. The thick curtains turned translucent as the sun rose, and Kirk just lay placated and smiling against James. Everything was started to sink in as they started to slide into unconsciousness.

“Never have I ever held out so long.” James sounded sheepish through the yawn.

Kirk nuzzled into his neck, inhaling the think musky scent he would never get tired of waking up next to. “Don’t worry, Jame. Never have I ever waiting so long.”

James laughed and tightened his arms around Kirk’s waist and shoulders. “This is getting downright goddamn cheesy.”

“‘Getting’? Yeah, right... because it was so damn cool when we started out, right?” Kirk laughed, too, reveling in the warm, safe embrace.

James swatted at Kirk’s ass rather than answer. As they were drifting off to sleep, a loud crash from next door startled them back awake. The clatter was followed by a slightly embarrassed “Oops, sorry, babe.” and some generic American cursing. Then Jason’s shy laugh.

“Guess they’re back at it.”

James kissed Kirk’s temple. “Good. It’s the way things should be.”

*~*~* fin *~*~*

Go back

Website design Copyright © KJones 2006
Website contents Copyright © Starlet 2006