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If anyone would have told Jason that he was going to get treated like shit once he joined the band, he would have laughed in their face and told them to fuck right off. Because he was a little naive and thought that, surely no one would treat their own bandmates like crap, right? And also because he had always been a fan of Metallica, which was the main reason of why he had wanted to join them after Cliff had passed away in the accident. But what was that that people always say? 'Never meet your heros'? Yeah.
The thing was that, Jason indeed got treated like shit the second he joined the band. Like actual shit. And, look, he wasn't a sensitive guy or anything. He didn't get upset easily and he could take a joke without getting offended, he could understand those. But whatever it was that these guys were doing? It wasn't a funny joke or a prank, mostly because it wasn't a one time thing. It was a regular thing. The constant disrespect and dismissal of his opinions and whatever he said, was a regular thing.
During the first few months he was into the band, he thought that it was an initiation ritual or something. Just them pissing him off and trying to see if he would do something about it, if he would get upset and just leave the band. Maybe it was a way of seeing how much he could take, if he could handle their 'game', or whatever. And at that time, he took it as a challenge. Yeah, he could handle whatever they threw at him, he wasn't some weak ass dude. It was, perhaps, his only way of coping with whatever it was that they were doing.
Now, what they did with the first album he was part of? What they did with '…And Justice for All'? Lowering the volume of his bass riffs to the point where they weren't even audible? That had been a really low blow and it had hit him really hard. Because he had put his time and effort into those riffs, he had came up with them and he had spent hours in the studio trying to make them absolutely perfect. Because he was trying to impress them. He was the new guy, the one they were messing with, and he thought that if he showed them he was really good at what he did, he would gain their respect or something. That they would lay off.
But that clearly was a mistake, because they had taken all of his work and thrown it out the window like it was nothing. And then they claimed that 'it sounded better like that'. It was bullshit. The first time he got to hear the final mix of the album, he truly thought they were messing with him. Another prank to see his reaction, to laugh at his face. He thought they were going to say 'Ha, gotcha!' and then show him the real mix — he was seriously hoping, praying, that that was the case —. But maybe he should have gone to church a little more often, because his prayers didn't work and it turned out to be the actual, final mix.
It left him heartbroken, to see how his work was dismissed like it was nothing, like it wasn't needed. Like they didn't need him. Maybe they were trying to prove that, show him that he was expendable, let him know that he was just a replacement for something they had lost tragically and unexpectedly. Perhaps he should have been more pissed off at that time, or more like, he should have said more. He was truly angry, but he had never found it in him to complain because, well, he was the new guy. This band wasn't his, he didn't know how they worked, he was barely part of it. And they made that very clear to him.
Actually, maybe he should have left after that, because he deserved more than to be treated like shit. But yet again, because he had always been a little too kind, a little too understandable with everyone, he tried to see it through their eyes. He understood that they were going through a rough time. They had lost their best friend, they were grieving. It was only fair that they were acting like this, they had never wanted another bass player, they wanted their bass player. But Cliff wasn't going to come back, and perhaps that was what they had yet to accept. He should have known that all of that did not excuse their behavior.
None of that had ever made it hurt any less, though, if he was honest with himself. The fact that these people that he admired so much, that he had looked up to — and still did despite their behavior —, could be such jerks towards him, it was painful. He had always known that they were not the most respectful and polite guys around, because, which rockstar was? But being treated like garbage from the second he had joined, without even deserving it because he had never done anything to them, was a big joke. It had left like a big slap of reality to his face, and he hadn't been ready for it.
Still, this little theory of his made him able to stay, to keep taking the shit that they threw at him, to keep smiling through it all despite how furious he was. And, really, not all of it was terrible. Not all of them were assholes. Kirk had actually become very close to him during those first few months. The guy had been the most open-minded when it came to the idea of a new bass player. They had talked, found they had things in common, and it all went up from there. He felt like he had a friend in there, a single person that had his back inside of that hell. Jason was aware of the fact that Kirk had tried his very best to get Lars and James to quit with their bullshit. But those other two were stubborn and angry and prideful, and they had refused. Still, Jason appreciated the attempt at helping, even if it hadn't worked out so well.
Besides that, the other thing that was amazingly cool, was playing for the people, for the fans. Going from city to city, from country to country, doing what he loved the most and making people happy with it? That was priceless and it was worth every joke and prank and insult that had been spat at him along the way. It truly made all his sacrifice worth it, even if his work wasn't taken seriously most of the time. The people made it all worth it. Being up there on stage playing, singing along with James, getting to see all these people listening and enjoying the music, hearing their cheers. It was the best feeling he had ever had, and he wouldn't change it for nothing.
Or, it had been really amazing, until James came up with his little joke. Jason didn't know where it had came from, when had he came up with it, or why he had chosen to use it to fuck with him even on stage. But James had started to call him his 'waitress' whenever they were playing, demanding Jason to bring him beer or whatever. It was infuriating, and very degrading. The fact that he was being called a girl, treated like one as a 'joke' of some sort. Not because being a girl was degrading, but because he knew how James saw girls. On his eyes, they were all pieces of meat and nothing else. So, it was degrading for him.
Not only that, but it was humiliating, to be treated and called a girl in front of all the fans, who surely didn't think anything of it besides that it was a funny joke. For Jason it was the most humiliating thing in his life. And maybe it was also his fault for not standing up to himself and instead playing along with it, not saying anything and bringing James whatever it was that he asked for. He just wasn't very fond of conflict and he was sure that James would get angry if he ever called him out on it. He would call Jason a pussy for getting offended over a joke, tell him to 'get over it or leave'. He was sure of it.
So he swallowed his discomfort and anger, trying to convince himself that it really was just a stupid — although unfunny —, joke. He did it to avoid conflict, that was what he told himself. Or maybe it was that he admired James too much. He respected the man too much, despite the fact that he had gotten called all kind of names by that same man. He was so afraid of getting into James' bad side. Perhaps he was already there, all things considered, but surely talking back and standing up to himself would make matters worse. So, against what he would like to do, he took it and went on with his life, trying to act like it didn't bother him.
But even if he wanted to ignore it forever and keep going like it was nothing, it wasn't. It wasn't nothing and he was getting really fed up as time went by, getting more annoyed each time he heard the stupid fucking joke. Once he even debated if he could just pour James' beer on top of him as a way of getting back to him, but that would really piss the guy off, and that was exactly what he didn't want. Right? It was hard to focus on the goal of 'not making James angry' when he was getting angrier himself and it was just a matter of time until something happened.
When it did happen, Jason didn't thought much of it.
It had been another... Friday night? Or maybe it was Saturday already? Jason wasn't sure. They were playing their second night at The Palace Of Auburn Hills, in Michigan, that much he knew for sure. Just a couple of months back they had started the new tour to promote their new album, the fifth one — Jason's second one —. So far it had been pretty good, pretty exciting, as all tours were, at least for him. Despite how pissed off he might be with the other guys, he still tried his best to enjoy what he did up on stage, tried to enjoy the people and the moment. Or else, why was he staying, right?
He was up there, blinded by the big ass lights that stood up above, bass in hand, absolutely sweating bullets already. The night was still young, they had played a few songs so far, with many more to go. Although the temperatures had dropped outside thanks to the fact that winter was around the corner, inside of the arena it was hot as balls. He could feel himself melting on a puddle underneath those bright lights from the heat all the speakers emitted, along with the big crowd of energetic people. It was the usual, though, feeling like he would pass out from the heat. The adrenaline running through his veins usually worked pretty well to keep him hot.
Thankfully, he always had some kind of drink close nearby to keep him cool and hydrated. Which was a big fat lie because it usually was beer, and it didn't work the best for hydration, but you get the idea. He already was feeling like passing out, but the song they were playing was coming to an end and it was a blessing in itself. The second the crowd erupted in cheers and yells, Jason was quick to fetch himself a plastic cup filled to the brim with beer. He took a swig from it and sighed with relief at the cold liquid sliding down his throat. It was really a-
"Where's my waitress?"
Jason stopped mid swig when James' voice echoed in the packed arena, sounding playful and mocking. Oh, here they go again.
"Where's my waitress?" James repeated, as the crowd cheered a little louder.
Jason kept himself from sighing, despite how tired he felt about it, and did his thing. He walked across the stage, feeling all of the eyes on him making his skin crawl. He usually wasn't one to be afraid of crowds or to get shy or embarrassed in front of them, but this was the moment that he kept dreading every time. When he arrived at the center of the stage, where James was, he just held the cup up towards him.
"Thanks, dear" James said with a smile, grabbing the offered cup.
To anyone else, he sounded like he was having fun with this totally funny joke, he sounded like he was playing with a friend, just joking around. But Jason knew better. He could see the pleased expression on James' face, how smug he looked, how satisfied his grin was. The crowd kept cheering from afar as Jason watched how James drank from the cup. Their eyes met and they held the contact, as if silently challenging each other. They did this every time, and James always looked so confident because he knew Jason would look away first.
"What? You want a tip?" James asked after a few seconds, when he noticed that Jason was still standing there, still staring at him.
His grin got wider, as if finding this sudden change of behavior funny. Usually by now Jason would already be walking away, getting back to his side of the stage, wishing he could forget this feeling of being humiliated in public, in front of all these people. But for some reason, this time he wasn't moving. He was still there, staring at James.
"I'll give it to you later" James joked.
It was like he was purposely trying to make him feel more uncomfortable. Always pushing and pushing, always trying to see if Jason would hit his limit at some point and just do something about it. He wasn't. He wasn't going to punch James in the face or anything, that wasn't his style. That was more like James' style, actually. Not Jason's, no. Unfortunately, he was still too kind and felt too strong when it came to James. He felt too much anger, yet too much admiration, too much respect but at the same time too much disappointment. It was complicated.
Despite his inner battle of feelings, this time felt different from all the others. He could hear his heartbeat loud in his ears, blood pumping fast through his body, heating up from the shame he felt while standing there, taking the humiliation while people stayed oblivious to it. James stared right back at him, like a predator staring at its prey. Curious because said prey wasn't running away from it, because the prey was going against its natural instincts. It slipped from his mouth before he really processed what he was going to say.
"Is that a threat or a promise?"
Thankfully, he was far away from the microphone, so there was no way the crowd would have heard it. But James did. And Jason got the see from up close the way his face changed. His eyebrows furrowed, first in confusion, and then he grimaced with an expression Jason couldn't quite read. There was something going on there but the bassist simply couldn't get it at the moment. It was a single second before James was looking away from him, for the first time.
And then he went back to talking to the fans about something else. Acting like nothing had happened. Jason walked away with a satisfied smile, going back to his side of the stage while feeling pleased with himself. He hadn't exactly stood up for himself, he had barely talked back to the guitarist, but it had made James look away first, which had never happened before. It could be considered as a win. At least that was what Jason thought, although it did make him curious. What was it about what he said that made James react in such a way? He had made a joke, played along, nothing weird.
Whatever it was that he did, it seemed to work wonders because James didn't even interact with him during the rest of the show, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. The man barely glanced at Jason on the following hours and he didn't find it in him to complain about this change on his behavior. He could survive a few hours without being the butt of his jokes. So kept on playing as if nothing was happening and after a few more beers, he barely even remembered the incident at all. It was probably one of the best nights he had had in a while.
After the show, they found themselves in the backstage, getting changed or taking a shower or just relaxing. Kirk and Lars had disappeared together a while ago, maybe to go find more booze or because they had seen a pretty girl somewhere. Who knew, Jason didn't bother to wonder too hard about it. He was more busy getting changed, getting off of his tight sweaty clothes and into more comfortable ones. James was also there, also changing, but Jason could almost feel his presence in there. There was this tension in the air that he couldn't point as to why it was there.
The silence was deafening, so loud in a weird way. He tried his best to ignore it as he took off his soaked shirt and dried his torso with a towel before putting on a new clean shirt, one that was more loose. He stood with his back towards James, very conscious of the rustling of clothes behind him. He swore he could feel eyes burning on the back of his head, but maybe he was just being paranoid. Yeah, it had to be that. He tossed his dirty shirt somewhere on the floor and then moved on to peel off his jeans. It felt so good when the cool air of the room hit against his warm legs.
As he was putting on a pair of shorts, he felt that burning on the back of his head getting more obvious, to the point where he got really curious about it. When his shorts were on, he finally turned around. James stood there, his jeans still on, his sweaty shirt still in his hands. He was fidgeting with the fabric, not really doing anything besides standing there and glancing towards him every now and then. He had this expression on his face, it was... conflicted? Angry wasn't the right word, but it was something close to it. He was being weird.
"What?" Jason finally asked, getting annoyed at the totally not discreet looks sent his way.
James didn't look startled at being caught staring. Instead he turned around, facing the bassist, and his eyebrows furrowed in a way that was too telling for Jason. If James hadn't been angry before, he surely was starting to be now.
"What the fuck was that out there?" The guitarist asked, his voice loudly echoing in the empty changing room.
Jason frowned for a second, confused as to what was James referring to. It took him a moment to realize he was talking about the joke from before. James was angry because he had talked back to him? This was getting interesting.
"What? You talking 'bout the tip joke? I was just playing along, man" Jason answered, keeping his face neutral despite how much he wanted to smile.
He found it so funny to finally see James reacting to him, to something he had done. It was even more funny because he had barely said two words. Why did James look so pissed off about it?
"It was fucking gay"
That made Jason stop. What? He stared at James, trying to see if this was another joke, but the man looked dead serious. He was truly upset about it being 'gay' or whatever. Now the bassist had an even harder time trying not to laugh. This was surreal.
"You calling me gay? If there's a fag here, it would be you" Jason said, stifling a chuckle that threatened to escape his throat.
James didn't like that one bit and he sure as hell looked angry now. His jaw was clenched, lips pressed in a tight line as he took a step closer to Jason.
"Shut your fucking mouth!" He barked, almost snarling like a rabid dog.
Jason couldn't help himself and he began to laugh — not full on doubling-over laughter, but close —. This situation felt so stupid. In any other moment, maybe he would have bitten his tongue and made sure not to upset James any more than he already was. An angry James was a dangerous one, even more knowing that he was surely drunk already. And, as stated before, Jason wasn't very fond of conflict. He didn't want to end up in a fist fight or anything. But for some reason, this time he couldn't stop himself from adding fuel to the growing fire.
"No, you started the joke, remember? That makes you more of a fag than me" He accused again.
James looked furious now, in a way that Jason was sure he had never seen before. He could practically hear his teeth gritting, could see his fists clenching tight. Maybe he had actually gained himself a punch to the mouth for talking too much. That would be-
"Maybe I should put my dick in your mouth so you'll shut the fuck up!" James suddenly snapped.
Whatever it was that Jason was thinking flew out the window and the found himself opening his mouth again, before he really had time to think about it.
"Maybe you should!"
Both of them were clearly surprised with his own words, but none of them backed up. They stared at each other. They were too close, when had they gotten so close? The silence stretched between them, the only sound being their agitated breathings. His heart was racing so fast inside of his chest that it hurt and the sweat he had dried off his chest a second ago was back again, thanks to how hot he suddenly felt. He swallowed thickly, speechless as to why he had said that shit. Why? He didn't even mean it, right? He had just snapped.
Had it been something unconscious? Jason had always known that he felt a certain way when it came to James, a way he couldn't name nor could he say out loud because it would be dangerous. He had never thought too much of it, always too busy walking on eggshells around James to really stop to understand those feelings. But he knew there was something there, buried deep inside of his chest — maybe because he had forced himself not to let it out —. Perhaps the intensity of his admiration had never been just that but actually something more. Something that he had been denying himself because of the fact that it would never happen.
But now, standing there, so close to the other man, he felt something stirring within him. He was sure his face was heating up, and his hands were clammy, and he was having trouble holding eye contact when he really just wanted to look away and hide. James was not saying a word and it only made him more nervous. Maybe he had pushed too much and he was about to get the beating of his life. God, what had gotten into him tonight that made him brave enough to talk back to James? He should have stayed quiet, looked down and played it cool as he always did.
He was so lost in his own head, overthinking what was going to happen next, that he missed the way James' face darkened with determination right in front of him. He only realized something was happening because he was being shoved against the wall, his back hitting hard against it. Here it comes, he thought, expecting a fist flying to break his nose and leave him black and blue. What crashed against him, though, was not a fist but a pair of dry lips. And they crashed against his own. His whole body seemed to tense once he processed what was happening.
Despite everything inside of him telling him that this was a terrible idea, his eyes ended up closing and he was kissing back before he could regret it and run away. James pressed his body against him, crowded him against the wall and keeping him pinned there. While two hands gripped the front of his shirt, his own stayed hovering in the air, not sure if he was allowed to touch or what to do with them. James could be very volatile, and at any second he could snap out of whatever was going on with him and decide to actually kick him in the mouth.
Jason actually kept waiting for it, waiting for the other shoe to drop any moment now. It was hard to enjoy tha fact that he was kissing James fucking Hetfield when he was on edge. However, what ended up melting his brain was when James forced his tongue past his lips, licking his way into his mouth and making the bassist let out a soft moan. Only then, when their tongues slid together in a wet kiss, was when he allowed himself to enjoy whatever was happening. He stopped hovering like an idiot and actually moved.
One arm wrapped around James' torso, hand splaying over his broad back and keeping him close while the other came up to tangle into the mess that was James' mane of dirty blond hair. He sighed into the kiss, relaxing as he began to feel what was going on around him. James' shirtless torso pressed against him, warm and sweaty; big calloused hands that curled around his waist and kept him in place; the unfamiliar feeling of facial hair brushing against his own smooth face as they kissed.
It all felt different from kissing a girl. For once, Jason was used to pliant mouths and bodies, waiting for him to take charge of the situation. With James involved? Their tongues were practically fighting for dominance inside of his mouth, rough hands squeezed his waist as if signaling him to settle down and give in. Something within him decided that obeying and rolling belly up was the safe option at the moment. So he gave in, not fighting anymore, and he almost felt James' groan of approval.
He did, however, tug at James' hair when he felt sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip right before the guitarist was pulling away from the kiss. Jason opened his eyes, meeting James' in a staring match that was no longer challenging or imposing but held something much more meaningful. His eyes were so blue from up close, Jason was sure he had never seen such a beautiful color. James seemed to be staring right back, really looking at him in a way that he had never done before.
"You're cute" James' voice cut through the silence, quiet and somehow intimate.
The sudden compliment came out of nowhere and caught Jason off guard, who just stared with James with a dumb expression and a blushing face. Despite it being unfamiliar, he felt something pleasant washing over him at the soft spoken words. It felt like a secret confession of some sorts, it also felt like James meant it.
He didn't have much more time to think about it, because soon enough there was a hand on his shoulder that gently pushed him down, guiding him to his knees. Okay, they were actually doing this, he was actually doing this. Settled on his knees, he looked up at James' looming presence. The guitarist already was tall as fuck, but from where he was kneeling he seemed much more taller, intimidating even. Or it would have felt that way, if it wasn't for the warm hand that cupped his face in its palm and brushed a thumb over his cheek.
He realized that he had never seen this side of James, soft and surprisingly gentle. The moment he had been shoved against the wall, he imagined that whatever they were going to do was going to be quick and dirty and rough. Because that was the James that he knew. But this new James wasn't hurrying him, wasn't really doing anything besides staring down at him with attentive eyes. It made Jason squirm on his knees, not used to being under the man's intense attention unless it was to try and intimidate him.
"Go on" James spoke again, encouraging yet not demanding.
Jason finally allowed his eyes to go down, down James' bare chest, down to his belly and lower until they stopped when he reached the man's pants. He stared at the tent in James' jeans, wondering if he would do a good job. He had never done anything with another guy before, he had never even knew he was interested in guys until this. Or maybe he did but he was trying to deny it all along. Still, the hand caressing the side of his face was comforting enough to urge him to move. His hands reached up and got to work on opening James' jeans.
As he pulled the zipper down, he felt a new hand on his head, this time combing through his messy hair. It all added to the warm feeling growing inside of his chest, something soft and unspoken. He tried not to worry about that and instead focused on tugging James' pants down to his thighs. His eyes fixed on the bulge straining the fabric of James' briefs and the sight made him grow a little nervous. Surprisingly, James hands on his hair were enough to keep him calm. It was true that he had absolutely no experience when it came to this, but he could try to do his best.
Without overthinking it, he leaned forward and nuzzled into James' crotch, tracing the line of his hard cock with his mouth. He gave tentative licks through the thin fabric, trying while still being unsure of what to do. He had been on the receiving end of blowjobs many times, but it was as if his brain had erased every memory of those times the second he had gotten on his knees. Even then, James hummed from above as he kept licking, seemingly pleased with what he was doing. It worked wonders to give him the confidence he was lacking at the moment.
His hands came up to touch James's thighs, feeling the muscles tensing underneath his fingers as they trailed up. They stopped at the edge of James' briefs and, with a little hesitation, he grabbed them and began to pull them down. The moment James' cock sprang out finally free, Jason was definitely staring. He had seen James naked before in numerous occasions, it came with the perks of being with his band almost 24/7. But this was different, mainly because he was on his fucking knees and he had that dick in front of his face.
Before he could wrap his fingers around the throbbing shaft, James beat him to it and wrapped his own hand around himself. The blond stroked his dick slowly, right on his face, while his other hand kept combing through his hair.
"Open up, sweetheart" James instructed, not as commanding as one would think.
Sweetheart.
The unusual term of endearmeant hit Jason hard, forcing another warm and pleasant shiver to run down his spine. Unconsciously he let out a soft sound, one he had never heard himself make before. He didn't know why the softness in James' voice was affecting him so much. Maybe it was the fact that he was only used to hearing insults and mocking words coming out of that mouth. This sudden gentleness felt like a splash of cold water, that actually made him warm instead of cold. He swore he was melting into a puddle right there on the floor.
Without even thinking about it twice, the bassist was opening his mouth as he was told to do. When he looked up, James was smiling at him, not smug but pleased — perhaps with his obedience? —. He felt something warm resting on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't look away from the guitarist.
"Wider" James said again and Jason obeyed.
He opened his mouth a little more and only then did James begin to push his cock inside, slowly feeding it to him while never breaking eye contact. Well, James didn't, but Jason did. His eyes fluttered closed when his mouth was stuff full, feeling the heavy weight of James' dick on his tongue. Despite everything, he was glad that James was taking the reins of the situation because he wouldn't know what do to. Following orders, that he could do better. So he stayed pliant as James eased his way out and then back inside as far as he could without making him gag.
Jason actually moaned as James rolled his hips, fucking his mouth slowly as he held his head still by his hair. His mind was fuzzy in a way he wasn't familiar with as he focused on breathing and just staying still while James took what he wanted. Each gentle thrust made him hum, just as the blond groaned from above. His hands stayed on James' thighs, holding onto the tan flesh and squeezing whenever James pushed in a little too deep and threatened to trigger his gag reflex. It was clear that James was doing it on purpose, getting deeper each time, pushing and trying to see what he would do.
The bassist tensed when one of those thrusts finally reached the point of 'too far' and he felt James' tip hitting against the back of his throat. He choked around the man's cock, gagging and attempting to cough at the feeling. James, despite being the asshole who did it purposely, pulled out and allowed him to recover from it. The hand on his hair forced his head to stay tilted back as he coughed and sputtered. Teary eyes blinked open just in time to see James' hungry eyes staring down.
"Fuck, you look so pretty like this" James mumbled while wiping the saliva from his chin with a thumb.
A moan escaped from his throat at the compliment before he could swallow it. He didn't know why he was reacting in such a way for soemthing as stupid as a compliment. What he did know was that he was rock hard inside of his shorts and he was just realizing now because his own dick had twitched when James spoke. As embarrassing as it might be, he decided to say 'fuck it' and slipped a hand between his own legs to palm at his cock. He let out another soft sound as he rubbed his hand over the tent in his shorts, trying to relieve himself with a little friction.
"Oh you really like that, huh?" James' voice snapped him back to reality.
The blond's were fixed on him, a smug grin growing on his face, as if pleased with himself for finding out about this. It made Jason feel just a little bit embarrassed and he could feel his face heating up. Maybe it was the patronizing tone on his voice, or maybe it was the realization that he was on his knees in front of James finally hitting him. He wasn't sure. But when he opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, James just slid his cock right back into his mouth. Not sudden or roughly, still as gently as he was before.
It shut him up efficiently and he was back to making sweet noises while James fucked his mouth nice and slow. This time, every now and then he would feel James' dick hitting the back of his throat and he would still gag, but James wouldn't pull all the way out. He just kept going, keeping his head still while rocking his hips. Jason's nails dug into the skin of James' thigh while his other hand squeezed his own cock. Every time he was forced to choke around the blond, he felt himself throbbing inside of his underwear and it was killing him.
"The mouth on you, Jase, fuck" James groaned, his hand tightening on Jason's hair.
He next time he gagged, the guitarist didn't pull out. Instead, he pushed Jason's head down and forced him to stay there while choking around him. Jason gripped James' thigh, tight, as he felt himself running out of air. A few tears rolled down his warm cheeks. When he felt like he was actually going to pass out, he hit James' leg urgently, and only then did he pulled out. The blond grunted, breathless, while he watched how Jason coughed and gasped for air.
Jason felt lightheaded for a few seconds, vision blurry as he recovered from whatever that was. In all honesty, that was how he had expected sex with James would be, rough and wild, not this soft treatment — not that he was complaining —. He had heard and even seen, only once, how James fucked girls and it was never like this gentle stuff. He looked up at James, frowning while still coughing a little.
"Fucker" He managed to say, to which James chuckled as if it was the funniest shit ever.
"I'm sorry, darling, your mouth just feels so good" James cooed at him, although he looked anything but sorry.
Actually, despite how cool he was trying to play it, James looked just as wrecked as Jason probably was. His face was flushed red and his hair was sticking to his skin, sweat was running down his chest and belly. Jason had also felt his thighs trembling under the pad of his fingers a second ago. They were both just as gone with what was happening here. And Jason felt proud of himself for being the one who caused it, who made James look so fucked out.
Still, before Jason could call James out on his fake apologies, the man was already forcing his cock back inside of his mouth. Again, it was an effective way to shut him up. Whatever complaint he had in his mind disappeared as his mouth was stuffed with dick and James went back to rolling his hips lazily. Jason guessed he should feel ashamed, being on his knees while James used his mouth and took what he wanted. But it felt relatively right, he liked where he was. He liked just sitting there and making James feel good.
What he liked the most was being on the receiving end of James' praises. It seemed like the blond had discovered a weakness that Jason wasn't even aware of, and he was taking advantage of it. James kept grunting sweet nothings from above as he fucked his mouth like they had all the time in the world. He kept tellin Jason how pretty he was, how good he looked on his knees and crying, how good he was taking his cock, how amazing his mouth felt. Each little murmured praise made Jason feel lightheaded and sent pleasant shivers directly down to his own dick.
At some point Jason had decided he couldn't take it any longer and he had slipped his hand inside of his shorts, wrapping a hand around himself and jerking his cock as if his life depended on it. He could feel how much precum had leaked from the tip already, how James' words kept making him twitch in his hand. He was practically rubbing his dick raw as he kept his jaw slack, mouth wide open for James to keep thrusting his cock in and out of it. It felt so good, to just sit there and take it.
He felt his orgasm building up dangerously fast as he kept stroking himself, but he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. He couldn't stop, not even if he really wanted to. The heat kept pooling in his belly and he felt his cock pulsing in his hand. He was so fucking close. It finally crashed against him when James buried his dick all the way down his throat, forcing him to gag around it and take it. But that wasn't what made him come. James' deep groan was the reason. It was a raw, guttural sound that made his ears ring and his nerves light up.
It was so sudden and hard that it knocked the wind out of his lungs. The warm waves of pleasure hit against him, his cock jerking in his hand as he came inside of his shorts. Just as he was riding the high feeling, almost completely gone and seeing stars, James pulled his cock out of his mouth. Jason blinked the blurriness away from his vision and saw how the blond began to stroke his dick right in front of his face, so fast it looked like it hurt. When he realized what was happening, he barely had enough time to close his eyes before he felt something warm landing on his face.
"Fuck! Fuck, fuck yeah" James grunted as he came all over Jason's face.
Jason felt it on his cheeks and his chin, some of it landed on his lips and nose. When the lewd sound of James jerking himself off faded away, Jason slowly opened his eyes and looked up. The guitarist was panting with his eyes closed, one hand placed on the wall as he leaned forward in exhaustion. He looked way too hot for his own good and Jason appreciated the few seconds he had to enjoy the sight while he also recovered from his own powerful orgasm.
That was, until he remembered that he had cum all over his face. He grimaced in disgust as he came to the realization that he was an actual mess; cum on his face, saliva and tears adding to all of that, sweaty all over, more cum in his own shorts. He was disgusting and it made him feel itchy. He had never been crazy about cleanliness or anything, but this was way too much.
"Give me something to clean up" Jason demanded, hitting James' leg as he attempted to stand up.
When he tried, he felt his legs getting wobbly and weak and had to stay on the floor. How long had he been kneeling down there? James was laughing while he walked away, searching for something that Jason could use to clean himself up. He came back with his own dirty shirt, which made sense because it was already dirty anyway. Jason snatched it from his hand with a pissed off expression and wiped his face, all while James kept chuckling.
"If you don't like the mess, maybe next time you can swallow it" James offered, clearly trying to fuck with him (no pun intended), as he pulled his pants back up.
"I don't know if there's going to be a 'next time' with you" Jason grumbled as he gave another attempt at standing up.
This time he managed to stay on his feet, although his knees still felt a little weak, legs all numb and tingly. He would have to walk it off. With his face cleaned up, he tossed the disgusting shirt to the floor without care. Just then, James was crowding him against the wall once again, hands steady on his waist.
"Oh, c'mon" James murmured, dragging the words out playfully. "You didn't like it, sweetheart?"
Jason lost all ability to give a proper answer after hearing that word again. If he did try to speak, he would stutter and trip over his own tongue like a dumbass, so he stopped himself from trying. He still tried to keep up the annoyed act, turning his head to the side and huffing. James scoffed and leaned closer, until Jason could feel his hot breath hitting against his neck.
"I saw you down there, Jase" James whispered, sounding so smug it was infuriating. "I know you liked it very much"
Jason didn't stand a chance, not even a little bit, but James' lips pressing a kiss on his neck was truly what sealed his fate. He barely managed to swallow the soft moan that threatened to escape his mouth, but he did end up letting out a sight. When he looked back at him, James had the biggest grin on his face. Stupid asshole.
And as James leaned forward to press their lips together in a gentle kiss, Jason decided that, even though he wasn't sure about how this had happened, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. It felt good, it felt right. It felt exactly like what he needed.