The Ascension of Violent Saints, Chapter 7
Title: The Ascension of Violent Saints, Part 7 of 14
Authors: tasyfa & looking_spiffy
Pairing: Lars Ulrich (Metallica)/Billie Joe
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 121,935 total
Disclaimer: So very completely fictional. Any similarities to real events are purely coincidental. We don't own, you don't sue. No insinuation, insemination or alienation intended.
Summary: "I don’t have words for the things you do to me." Who would’ve thought? The heavy metal drummer and the punk rock frontman, dating. That’s the happy ending, right? Wrong. Between dirty vacations and disastrous family dinners, lingering exes and shattered boundaries, Billie and Lars have a long way to go yet.
Notes: Warnings for major angst, sap, bloodplay, bondage, orgasm denial. Special thanks to evaine for assisting us with the title!
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from Part 6:
Adie ran gentle fingers through his hair. "I'm going to make coffee and bring it into the living room, okay? I don't think anyone else is up for dessert either."
He agreed and carried his drowsy son upstairs, getting him ready and getting through all of two verses before Jake was sound asleep. Billie sat for a few minutes longer, arousal still buzzing through him accompanied by a slew of other emotions, contemplating how it was possible to feel basically happy overall and yet so absolutely and completely fucked up at the same time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
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Meanwhile Lars, after having stumbled past bedrooms, a spare room and a cupboard, had found the bathroom and now sat cross-legged on the floor with his back to the door. His hands were clasped together, knuckles pressed against his mouth. They were shaking. Big green eyes stared through everything, seeing nothing but searching for something, before they dropped to see the tremble in his hands. A scowl flickered across his face, and he wrapped his arms tight around his waist to still them. It didn't work.
"Fuck!" he snarled through gritted teeth, almost physically bristling for that moment of speech. Fucking hell, he was almost distraught.
There are questions I need answering before I go fucking insane. Why the hell do I even want Billie when he's so different to the guy I was with for so many years, and why am I so stuck with this Adrienne thing?
He'd thought again and again just how different his ex-lover and his new boyfriend were, but in terms of physicality and basic personality, it was all so obvious. There had to be something deeper to it than simply some change in scenery. A piece of that puzzle had slotted into place on their last night of vacation - I never in twenty years felt as comfortable being like this with James as I do with you. And it was true, even in the last few months of it. Lars had always felt like the cuddling, the holding, the entwining of limbs had only been for his benefit, and got the distinct feeling that it made James uncomfortable. That also supported the thought that James had never really been comfortable with his sexuality, but that was speculation for another day. Maybe Lars needed Billie because he could be himself, be at ease with his instincts and not feel like he shouldn't be acting a certain way. And perhaps the reason he'd fallen into the role of dominant partner so easily was because he felt it meant he could have the freedom to choose between machismo and tenderness without feeling self-conscious - and in that the freedom to choose between playing the top or the bottom. The time when he bottomed to Billie seemed like it might be a while off yet, judging by his distressed reaction to his lover's intimate touch on that last night, but with all these thoughts appearing for the first time and swirling around, it seemed a lot more certain that one day it would happen.
Wow. Well, that's one question answered, I guess. But if that's all the personal insight I'm gonna get tonight, then I'm fucked.
Needing an outlet, he drew his head forward and banged it back against the door, hard enough to make it rattle. Kirk's surprised voice came from the other side. "Shit, are you okay, man? Did you fall?"
Lars sighed loudly, rubbing the back of his head somewhat ruefully. "No, I'm fine. Never been better."
"Don't fuckin' lie, Lars, and tell me what freaked you out so badly down there." He didn't sound weary or impatient at all. Only worried. Good old Kirk.
"Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I just slapped Billie like a schoolkid while his wife was right across the table, but I can't really be sure."
"You said she was okay with it, though, right?"
Well then I guess I'm not, Lars said to himself. There was a pause. "It's fucking with my head. This whole night is just fucking with my head." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling his throat tighten with something other than nerves, and pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes. His head was in a whirl, he felt sick, and despite the question that had been answered he was still utterly confused. His emotions were just…all over the place.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?
Yeah, James, what the fuck am I doing?
When his voice emerged, it was brittle and uncertain.
"I'm not sure how much longer I can do this."
Despite the door between them, Lars could almost taste Kirk's shock. The silence fell thick and ominous. When the guitarist finally spoke, his voice seemed timid. "What do you mean?"
Lars didn't reply. After a few moments, he swallowed and stood up, pacing around in a circle as words tumbled from him. "I'm stuck, I'm stuck in my head, there's something I'm not seeing, there's something I still don't get that connects all of this up and makes it all flow in my head, there has to be, because if there's not…" he trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence, even in his head. "It has to flow, it has to work, but I'm stuck, I've been stuck this entire fucking time, I need to get over…"
Get over…
Oh my God, that's…I need to get over James, I'm still stuck on him - I mean, I still have feelings for him, but they're nowhere near as strong as the feelings I have for Billie anymore. The reason I'm still stuck on him is because of how he left me - he chose his wife over me. And now I'm stuck with fucking insecurities, because…
He stopped in his tracks, frozen for a moment and eyes wide at these revelations, before whirling around to the door and opening it a little way. From the shock on Kirk's face, he must've looked distraught or raw, or something. He didn't much care. Pressing his temple against the door, he looked at his bandmate with hollow eyes and finished his thought aloud. "Why would Billie ever choose me over Adrienne? He wouldn't. I know he wouldn't." His eyes strayed over Kirk's shoulder to a framed photograph on the wall, one of Green Day at some party. Conveniently, Kirk was stood in such a way that Tré was obscured, leaving him to see the image of Mike and Billie, arms slung around one another, wide grins on their faces.
Lars's expression held a kind of resigned anguish. "And Presidents are temporary."
"Wh…Wait, Pres…? Lars-" Before Kirk could fully sputter his bewilderment, Lars turned and gave the toilet a flush, as if he hadn't just been hiding out, and exited the bathroom. Kirk was left to follow him back down the stairs, back towards the meal. Lars didn't even want the evening to fly by anymore. Judging by his subdued expression and downcast eyes, he'd all but given up.
Hearing some noise in the hallway, Billie rose from Jake's bedside and left his son to dream, gaze catching the flutter of Kirk's white shirt disappearing into the stairwell. A puzzled frown creased his forehead as he followed. Why had Lars bothered coming all the way up here? He must have forgotten about the small bathroom near the front door. Or took one look at it and decided it was too much like pissing inside a tube of lipstick, which was generally Billie's opinion of the vividly painted, vaguely rounded room. He liked the one in his studio a hell of a lot better. Especially with the ever-growing splashes of graffiti.
"One kid asleep and one surgically attached to his Internet. It'd probably be safe to wander naked now," he quietly teased. Kirk turned slightly to flash a smile but it was half-hearted, and his lover didn't show any sign he'd heard anything. Billie's frown deepened. "Lars?"
Still nothing by the time he got to the downstairs hallway and he strode past the guitarist, reaching for the drummer's arm. He didn't know if Kirk was aware of the pet name or not, but it didn't really matter; instinct had him asking, "Uli?" Voice soft and soothing as Lars finally stopped walking. No answer was forthcoming, though, and Billie stepped close, his free hand rising to rest gentle fingertips on a smooth jaw.
Everything seemed to have drained out of his lover, been literally flushed down the toilet. All the bristling attitude, the arrogance, the passion, even the severe case of nerves…gone. It worried him. He flattened his palm against his lover's cheek but green eyes remained downcast. "Hey," he murmured, and when there was still no response Billie leaned in and kissed Lars. Uncaring that Kirk was stood right there, or that Adrienne was down the hall, or that his kids were upstairs and might need an explanation for a serious kind of kiss like this, though he suspected Joey would need rather less of one, precocious pre-adolescent that he was. At the moment, however, it was all irrelevant as he coaxed the older man's lips apart with his tongue, sliding it in to tangle and dance with another, thumb rubbing delicate strokes along a cheekbone.
For a songwriter, Billie found himself too often without the words to adequately express his thoughts and feelings, but he knew how to do it with a kiss and his mouth worked to convey everything in a basic human rhythm. You're here because I want you here. Because I want you, period.
Because I love you.
Lars's throat tightened again as Billie came close to him, touched him, and when that kiss came the drummer fought against himself to either break away or fall in. It never became a conscious decision, but blank eyes slid closed as he was eased into the caress and began to return it. His hands went to a lithe waist and pulled Billie closer, instinct muting anything else he was feeling. This kiss, or even one of those brief touches that his lover had initiated, was something he'd sorely needed earlier in the night. But as the cliché went, all good things must come to an end, and when this one did, he stayed close but dimly wished it had never come at all. It made him ache.
I feel like a fucking idiot.
He caught Kirk out of the corner of his eye, stood off to the side, skritching at his arm awkwardly, dark brown eyes turned towards him. The Dane knew a level of his anguish had leaked back into his eyes, that much was unavoidable. Billie's own gaze, bright and worried and right there in front of him, drew vulnerability and honesty from him that he'd never have previously allowed. He cleared his throat, hands raising to smooth at the younger man's shirt lapels.
"This is hard for me. A lot harder than I thought it was gonna be. So just…" There was no end prepared for that sentence. His eyes dropped again, his voice going with them into a soft monotone. "Let's just get this evening done, huh? Don't…" He pulled away, out of Billie's embrace, not meeting his eyes as he turned to go back down the hall. "I can't. Not tonight, okay?"
He felt a hand on his arm, and when he turned to repeat himself, he found Kirk there instead. The guitarist spoke under his breath, a degree of urgency in his tone. Obviously he'd been waiting to say this since Lars had breezed past him out of the bathroom. "Wait a second, you've said it yourself before today, why does it have to be either, or?"
Lars's eyes flicked to Billie and back again, stopping just short of giving Kirk a sharp jab in the ribs at his outburst. He hoped that Billie wouldn't understand exactly what Kirk was referring to. Deciding to give his bandmate an answer, his own voice dropped to a murmur. "It's different, it's so fucking different that I have to laugh that you even made that comparison."
Kirk seemed about to attempt a reply, but it never came. He looked back to Billie, shoulders sinking, and Lars caught the apology in those dark brown eyes as he turned and headed down the hall, shaking his head. I feel like a fucking idiot for letting myself in this deep.
Don't touch me. The whole phrase had not been spoken, but Billie still heard the edict and he felt jealousy slice through him again when Lars held back on repeating it upon realising that the hand on his arm belonged to his bandmate, not his lover. Kirk was allowed to touch, was allowed to know just what the fuck was going on in the drummer's head - was allowed the understanding that Billie simply lacked. Either what or what?
He'd thought that kissing his lover might reconnect them, bring Lars out of whatever shadowed place he'd stuck himself in, and it had worked for a brief moment before the light went back out, leaving them both in deeper darkness. It had been a mistake and it hurt that his natural instinct to comfort could be a source of pain instead.
He opened his mouth to answer Kirk's apologetic look and then closed it, spreading his hands helplessly. Billie was at a total loss as they both followed the morose figure. Watching this lifeless shuffling from someone normally bursting with energy squeezed at his chest so hard that it ached to breathe. He thought back to the night they'd found each other again, to the words exchanged whilst limbs were entangled in a hotel bed that had let him put his heart on the line for this man; that had made him realise he'd already begun to fall and gave him the reassurance he'd needed to keep falling. You said you didn't want to lose anyone else that meant something to you - that you wouldn't give me up.
Why does it feel like you just did?
"In here," came Adrienne's voice as Lars passed the living room. The three men entered to find quiet jazz playing in the background and two black thermal carafes plus all the appropriate accessories set up on the coffee table by the leather furniture, the speaker curled into the chair with her own steaming mug.
"Kirk, the smaller jug is just straight coffee for you. I took the liberty of splashing some Irish whiskey into ours." She smiled. "Help yourselves, boys. We're not much for formality here."
Billie stood to the side while the other musicians poured and doctored their coffee, having a bit of a silent conversation with his wife while they couldn't see. He wanted very much to go to her right now, for her touch to soothe him the way he'd tried to do for Lars, but the instant the urge had struck he'd realised something: seeing Billie and Adrienne together had to be a million times harder for his lover than seeing Lars and Kirk's comfort level with each other was for Billie. So he stayed away, answering her voiceless question with a gesture towards Lars whilst tapping his temple and shrugging, telling her that he didn't know what was going on. She nodded, expression turning thoughtful as he started to pour himself a coffee while the other men sat on the large couch.
Once Billie had sunk into the remaining small couch, feeling kinda dwarfed sitting there by himself, Adie offered them all a brilliant smile. "I think we need to get to know each other better, don't you? Kirk, I know you're not drinking but I trust you to play along with us anyway."
She leaned forward the tiniest bit, suckering them in. "Are you gentlemen familiar with a little game called, 'I Never'?"
Lars continued his shoegazing - or rather coffeegazing, as he'd toed off his shoes and tucked his legs underneath himself on the couch, eyes down and observing the slowing spin of his freshly stirred coffee. He hadn't heard of the game, so thought it best to just keep quiet. Kirk, however, was the opposite.
"Ohhh shit!" he exclaimed, equal amounts glee and horror in his voice. The thought of a game had evidently brightened him. "Is that the one- Is it where someone says something they've never done, and if someone else, one of the other players, has done it, they take a drink? That's it, right? And it goes around in a circle, each person says something, and…yeah. Oh man. I haven't played that in fucking years."
Lars settled back deeper into his seat, finally raising his head and looking at least somewhat involved. Maybe a game would be a good idea, something to lighten the mood - there wasn't much else he could do about it, any of this, after all. Perhaps it was because he'd never played or heard of 'I Never' before, or perhaps it was down to his mood, but the drummer failed to see the implications such a game could have, the dark turns it could take, especially with everything that was going on. Whatever the reason, this time his perceptivity failed him and he merely went along with Kirk's obvious eagerness. It was just a dumb game, after all.
His bandmate raised his index finger to make an important point. "Oh wait, I've gotta say right now - what happens in 'I Never' stays in 'I Never', that's the one rule. Even without the alcohol, I'm still likely to get pretty loose tongued. Just as a warning," he grinned. He glanced at Lars, who returned his look with some perplexity. A 'what exactly are you getting us into here' look.
Kirk sat back, bringing one leg up and resting his ankle on his knee. He dipped his head, free hand raised towards Adrienne in a sort of absurd gallant gesture.
"Ladies first."
Billie had no chance to veto what he thought was a disastrous idea, not after Kirk's enthusiastic response and Lars showing a tiny bit of interest. He did narrow his eyes and give his wife a dirty look, letting her know he thought she was nuts to suggest this. Her serene answering smile dimpled her cheeks and he mentally rolled his eyes and shrugged. Something else he was stuck doing, just like the recent wrist slap. He had to admit to himself that it resembled that incident in more than his being roped into it - that there was a level of interest in the outcome, too, even if he did believe that this had the potential to be a very dangerous game indeed.
Adrienne inclined her head to Kirk, replying to his extravagant gallantry in kind. "Okay then." She flicked a glance at Billie, seeming to ponder her choices, and finally continued, "I never considered quitting the band and going solo."
Automatically following the rules, Billie Joe brought his mug to his mouth and took a sip of the whiskey-laced coffee. He flushed slightly as he realised he was the only one, mouth tightening defensively at the other musicians' open surprise.
"Very briefly. Things had gotten…" he let it trail off. "Getting our shit back together was what produced American Idiot so it ended up being a good thing."
He was annoyed that he'd felt the need to justify himself, but even after a few years that was a sore point; it probably always would be and she knew that. He didn't know what Adie was playing at, starting off with that kind of statement. She clearly had her own agenda in mind and Billie was not privy to it.
Sipping absently at his coffee, he took his turn. "I learned to play by slightly different rules, where you just have to make sure you start with 'I Never'; it can be something you have done, or not, it doesn't matter. So, um, I never thought about playing a full concert totally naked." He gulped down another mouthful and lowered the mug, realising that he could conceivably just keep guzzling it like it was plain coffee and end up fucking looped in no time if he wasn't more careful.
Kirk echoed Billie's gulp, nodding like it was an entirely normal thing. "A couple of times, for different reasons. Sometimes it's just the killer heat under those lights and with all that pyro, like in somewhere like Arizona or Japan in the summer. I get so fuckin' overheated sometimes that I think I'm going crazy from it. Sometimes, though not for a long time now, it's down to drunkenness. And sometimes, y'know, shock value. For the hell of it. You don't have to worry about it so much when you've got an Ibanez hanging in just the right place, though!" He directed a wink at Billie before turning his head to Lars. "What about you? You're all over the place during a show."
Lars shrugged slightly. "By the end of the summer shows I'm in my boxers. It's usually enough. Plus, way back in the mists of time, spandex never left much to the imagination, so there's not much point in the exhibitionist side for me."
He sounded thoughtful. It was misleading, because really, he was trying not to think. Becoming introverted was his defense mechanism - when something was troubling him to this degree, something so very personal, he kept his cards close to his chest. Kirk was trying to bring him back out of his shell, which was ridiculous of him, really - he should know more than most how damn near impossible that was and how much he disliked it. Or maybe the guitarist was simply trying to keep the conversation going, keep it light. Maybe Lars was overthinking it. Fandens.
As if answering his thoughts, Kirk nodded. "Okay, it's your turn, Uli."
"My turn?" Lars echoed somewhat stupidly. "Oh. Um." He looked down into his mug for inspiration, brow creasing a little, then murmured his statement. "I never…that's bad English, though, right? I've never drunk a whole bottle of Jägermeister in one night." After a pause he took a gulp, as did Kirk, who made a little noise of displeasure at the memory.
The drummer didn't really expect anyone else in the room to drink. In fact, he barely even glanced around to see if they did. His heart really wasn't in it right at that moment, if it wasn't obvious.
Adrienne took a sip of her coffee, grimacing as if it were the liquor in question. Billie's eyebrows raised. "Is that what you were drinking the night you got your stomach pumped?"
"Yeah." She shook her head with a rueful smile. "Really bad idea. I think I was, what, twenty-two? Something like that."
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah we were on the road somewhere, too fucking far from Minnesota for me to strangle your flake of a roommate when I called and all she kept repeating was that you were in the hospital. I finally had to scream at her that I only had enough change for five minutes so could she calm down and tell me what the fuck had happened before I got cut off."
"Jen wasn't the best person in a crisis, no. But she was the only one who never gave me any grief for you being just this side of legal when we met, so you don't get to dis her," Adie admonished with a grin. "The way everyone else went on, you'd think I was twenty years older than you, not three."
Billie huffed out a laugh. "Admit it, you took shameless advantage of my innocence."
"Guilty as charged." Her eyes acquired a naughty sparkle. "Of taking advantage, anyway. Mike had already taken care of your innocence."
His mouth hung open at the way she had casually plopped that information out there, like the others in the room already knew it. Though he did assume Kirk knew that he'd been involved with Mike before, since he seemed to know everything about Lars - right down to coaxing him into speech with his nickname. It had irked Billie to hear the endearment coming from someone else, to see his lover respond to it, but he was trying to ignore that. Clearly it was a more long-standing pet name than he'd realised, and more widespread, too; not something special between the two of them. That was his own misunderstanding and he didn't want to take it out on anyone else.
But as Lars's lethargy continued, something began to burn low in Billie's stomach; an acidic recklessness that told him it didn't matter what he said or did now because the drummer was already lost to him.
"True enough," he confirmed. "That half of it at least. Nicole Carter'd already taken care of the other half."
Billie refilled his mug, sprawling back on the loveseat and slurping a quarter of it down despite the heat, not caring anymore if he got drunk off his ass. What difference could it possibly make?
With each minute that went by, with each little bit of information about Billie's and Adrienne's past that leaked into him, Lars shrunk back further into himself. It didn't matter to him whether he was being oversensitive or melodramatic, the point was it all latched onto him, twisted into him like fish hooks and each affection-laced word was a sharp tug at every one of them. So she wasn't just some girl, she was far more - heaven forbid the cliché - rock and roll than he'd previously given her credit for. Not only that, but it seemed that Mike had had the same longevity with Billie that Lars had had with James, even in that, as Adrienne had so eloquently put it, 'innocence' had been a factor. If Mike had been removed from the picture with seemingly the same ease that James had removed Lars, what the fuck did that say for Lars's prospects?
Lars could see, could sense the love, the deep and inextricable connection between Billie and Adie, it was in their merest of glances. Why can't I have that? Why can't I have it now? It was a ridiculous, childish thought. She has history with him that I'll probably never have, that I'll certainly never know. I want a better fucking foundation than that damn awards show and two weeks on a fucking island. It's nothing compared to what they have, it's a drop in the ocean, and I'm fucking pissed off that I had the foundation I did work on for so long taken away from me. Now I've got this brand new one and I can't help but get the feeling that I don't even have a fighting fucking chance. I want to work on it, I want this relationship, I just don't want it to be a constant uphill battle. I'm sick of them. I don't fucking want to be temporary…
Wait, what?
No, I don't.
If it seemed like an odd thing for him to be surprised by, Lars had never really acknowledged it, even with his revelations in the bathroom earlier. Even with the silent realisation he'd had while Billie slept on the last night of their vacation - Oh, I'm starting to fall for him. Now it was all solidified in his head, despite all the obstacles, he was still falling.
Oh, well, doesn't that make all this so much fucking easier?
While the cogs had been turning in Lars's head, his grip tightening on his mug, he failed to realise that an entire round of the game had passed without him noticing. He guessed that the questions had been tame enough for him to have passed them by without a sip and not be questioned for it, but now it was his turn again. He blinked the glassiness out of his eyes and cleared his throat. "Um. I don't know. Um." He rubbed at his forehead, looking weary for a few moments. He glanced over at Billie, that anguish shimmering just behind his eyes for a few seconds before he clamped down on it and looked away. A little of the vitriol in his thoughts seeped into his voice. "Fuck it, I have never felt this fuckin' awkward and uncomfortable and…misplaced in my life."
A beat for the shock to become palpable, and he rose, scuffing over to the table to top-up his mug with more whiskey than coffee.
The words hit Billie physically, each one striking his midsection until he could hardly breathe. He'd seen the flare of pain in green eyes, but he didn't understand. He did not comprehend where things had gone so horribly, incredibly wrong. It had been awkward right from the start, yes, but they didn't all know each other yet and that much had been expected. For Lars to be tearing himself up over something and turning Billie Joe inside out in the process, there was obviously more to it but he didn't know what. Fuck, he didn't even know where to start looking and in the meantime, he could feel his lover pulling farther and farther away.
What he did know was that the drummer's bald statement applied to more than one man in the room. He swallowed a mouthful of mostly whiskey, voice edged in the squelching softness of rot when he spoke. "I'll drink to that."
Misplaced. Fucking misplaced. Because Billie put his family ahead of his rock lifestyle. He'd acquired them around the same time in his life; he'd never had the years of swinging bachelorhood that the Metallica band members had had. Green Day's initial burst of success and Billie's marriage, Adie's pregnancy…they had been simultaneous, all three. This was a family home - he was a family man, as strange as it might seem for a punk rocker, and he'd tried to include his lover in that family. That had been the entire fucking point of this catastrophic evening.
He didn't have the high-class pedigree that Lars did; he didn't come from the same world. He had believed that they could still inhabit the same one now regardless of background or past. Clearly that had been foolish in the extreme because every new thing his lover learnt about him was driving him farther away.
Because as he saw it, what it came down to was that Lars didn't want to know these things. Didn't want to be part of these things - didn't want to be part of Billie, didn't want what he had to offer. Didn't want to know that Billie was completely and irrevocably in love with him.
Didn't want someone who wasn't a fucking thing like James Hetfield.
His jaw clenched with the effort of holding it in. That last night on the island, when they'd made love…no. He realised with a sharp jolt that it couldn't have been what he'd thought it was, not if Lars could simply turn it all off like this and feel so misplaced. It couldn't have been the deeply intimate experience for his lover that it had been for himself. Billie had been making love; Lars had obviously been fucking. More gently than usual but Billie had to have imagined the emotional resonance between them. Spun it out of dreams and thin air because he wanted it so badly to be the truth.
He hadn't been in love with Mike for a long, long time - he knew that now - but right then he would have given a great deal for a hug from his best friend and some expression of the still rock solid belief Mike had in him. It wasn't the same coming from Adie; their relationship defined him to a huge degree, but it didn't encompass everything. It didn't reach this half of him, this place in his heart and in his skin where Mike had lived once. The one Lars had occupied in growing stages since the night they first met until he owned it outright. The only problem was, it seemed to be undesirable property to the drummer.
Silently he rose and refilled his mug, the last of the coffee comprising slightly less than half of the liquid reaching almost to the brim. He didn't much care that it wasn't hot anymore mixed like that, curling up at the far end of the loveseat to nurse the drink. Billie could feel his wife's concern but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Or anyone else's. He simply sat there, sipping at coffee-flavoured whiskey, aching as Kirk and Adie took their turns. When it came round to him again, he figured he might as well let fucking everything out. Let Lars know that his decision to withdraw from Billie and Billie's life before he got tainted by it was the right one. The older man always did tease him about being girly, so why not start there?
"I never cross-dressed in full drag, right down to panties and a bra, with full make-up. Just like a girl." He didn't mention that it wasn't really a fetish of his, or offer any explanation at all; he simply let a portion of his drink burn a defiant path down his throat.
Kirk sipped at his coffee, seeming like he was trying to glance all around the room and look at no-one at the same time. "Um, once. Um, it was just a joke," he said quietly, timidly. Lars barely even heard the statement. The game, the stupid fucking game was still going on, even after he'd expressed his total discomfort.
In the mindset he was in, he was likely to fall back on childish tendencies. Being an only child, an only child in a well-off family, things usually went his way. Most of the time he didn't even have to expect them to, they just did. Years down the line, it was only for the fact that he wanted Metallica to succeed so badly, knew they would in his gut, that he didn't even think about throwing a fit when he was staring down at the piece of bologna in his hand, his Loser's Lunch, when they couldn't afford anything more to eat.
But here he had been pushed past the point where he could swallow it, where he could suffer in silence. He was even further out of his comfort zone than he'd been when he came into the Armstrong house however many hours ago, and with every moment that went by, every word that passed either Billie's or Adrienne's lips, his lover seemed determined to twist those fish hooks deeper, to keep pushing him away and ignore his pain, to sabotage the foundation he'd - they'd both - worked on so hard. Lars wanted this to stop. All of it. Now.
Well look at that, it was his turn again.
Kirk peered towards him, speaking in that same careful, quiet voice. "Um, do you want me to take your-"
"No, it's fine. I'm fine. Never been better," Lars interrupted. Kirk gave him an admonishing look and seemed about to say something, to warn him, but he turned away. "I'd actually like to take all my turns now, if that's okay." Not waiting for permission, he continued. "I've never had sex practically onstage," he took a gulp, "I've never spent a reasonably sober night going pretty far sexually with my lead guitarist," he took another gulp; Kirk made a few astonished noises, turning red and not meeting Billie's eyes. "I've never sucked a guy off while one half of my band was asleep a couple of feet away," yet another gulp; Kirk exclaimed something; Lars failed to hear it. He cleared his throat and looked around. "Okay, that's gotta be the sordid, sleazy part out of the way, right? Awesome, now we can get onto the real stuff."
He took a deep breath, let it out, sipped his coffee once more. His eyes stared straight ahead as he spoke.
"I've never felt like I've been thrown in the deep end of a relationship like this without so much as a fucking armband. I never thought a stupid game with doctored coffee would make me feel like I wasn't needed. I never thought that, after everything that was said in that fucking hotel room at that fucking awards show, that the way things ended with my last partner could ever happen again, but I guess I might be naïve." He looked over to Billie. "I never thought that I'd actually have to answer to your drummer like he said, but I'm not letting another of my relationships be ruined right in front of me tonight. I don't want to hurt anybody here, but I'm getting hurt and I'd like that to stop happening."
He stood up and turned to face his lover, barely even aware that Kirk and Adrienne were in the room. "I never, in my romantic relationships, wanted, needed, cared for or fell for any other man but…but him." A long, excruciating pause. Then he raised the mug to his lips and tipped his head back, pouring the rest of his drink down his throat.
He'd probably gone too far, probably said too much, probably would regret it later. But right then he stared down at Billie defiantly, green eyes too bright, then put his empty mug on the coffee table and began tugging on his boots. "I'm done. I'm out of here."
Lars was outside and halfway across the lawn before it registered that people were calling him. He picked out Kirk, he sounded closest. "Chill the fuck out, I'm not taking your fucking car. I'll get a cab or walk or take the fucking BART." A hand settled on his arm, Kirk again. He tore away, sudden fury rising to the surface, and whirled around to glare at him with blazing eyes. "Don't fucking touch me, Hammett, just go back inside and drink your coffee and be so fucking comfortable and at ease with everybody." His gaze flicked over Kirk's shoulder and found Adrienne on the porch. "I can't fucking deal, I'm sorry to ruin the perfect evening you had planned where we all get along great, but I can't fucking deal with all this, especially when I know that…" I'm just fucking temporary. Some self-control returned to him before he spilled himself out entirely for everybody to pick apart.
Then his eyes found Billie, and he could find nothing else to say. He stood there, everything in his body feeling tight and strained, like something was waiting to explode from him. He stood there and could not move his feet to go.
( to chapter 8)
Don't forget to leave some love for looking_spiffy, too!
Authors: tasyfa & looking_spiffy
Pairing: Lars Ulrich (Metallica)/Billie Joe
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 121,935 total
Disclaimer: So very completely fictional. Any similarities to real events are purely coincidental. We don't own, you don't sue. No insinuation, insemination or alienation intended.
Summary: "I don’t have words for the things you do to me." Who would’ve thought? The heavy metal drummer and the punk rock frontman, dating. That’s the happy ending, right? Wrong. Between dirty vacations and disastrous family dinners, lingering exes and shattered boundaries, Billie and Lars have a long way to go yet.
Notes: Warnings for major angst, sap, bloodplay, bondage, orgasm denial. Special thanks to evaine for assisting us with the title!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
from Part 6:
Adie ran gentle fingers through his hair. "I'm going to make coffee and bring it into the living room, okay? I don't think anyone else is up for dessert either."
He agreed and carried his drowsy son upstairs, getting him ready and getting through all of two verses before Jake was sound asleep. Billie sat for a few minutes longer, arousal still buzzing through him accompanied by a slew of other emotions, contemplating how it was possible to feel basically happy overall and yet so absolutely and completely fucked up at the same time.
CHAPTER SEVEN
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Meanwhile Lars, after having stumbled past bedrooms, a spare room and a cupboard, had found the bathroom and now sat cross-legged on the floor with his back to the door. His hands were clasped together, knuckles pressed against his mouth. They were shaking. Big green eyes stared through everything, seeing nothing but searching for something, before they dropped to see the tremble in his hands. A scowl flickered across his face, and he wrapped his arms tight around his waist to still them. It didn't work.
"Fuck!" he snarled through gritted teeth, almost physically bristling for that moment of speech. Fucking hell, he was almost distraught.
There are questions I need answering before I go fucking insane. Why the hell do I even want Billie when he's so different to the guy I was with for so many years, and why am I so stuck with this Adrienne thing?
He'd thought again and again just how different his ex-lover and his new boyfriend were, but in terms of physicality and basic personality, it was all so obvious. There had to be something deeper to it than simply some change in scenery. A piece of that puzzle had slotted into place on their last night of vacation - I never in twenty years felt as comfortable being like this with James as I do with you. And it was true, even in the last few months of it. Lars had always felt like the cuddling, the holding, the entwining of limbs had only been for his benefit, and got the distinct feeling that it made James uncomfortable. That also supported the thought that James had never really been comfortable with his sexuality, but that was speculation for another day. Maybe Lars needed Billie because he could be himself, be at ease with his instincts and not feel like he shouldn't be acting a certain way. And perhaps the reason he'd fallen into the role of dominant partner so easily was because he felt it meant he could have the freedom to choose between machismo and tenderness without feeling self-conscious - and in that the freedom to choose between playing the top or the bottom. The time when he bottomed to Billie seemed like it might be a while off yet, judging by his distressed reaction to his lover's intimate touch on that last night, but with all these thoughts appearing for the first time and swirling around, it seemed a lot more certain that one day it would happen.
Wow. Well, that's one question answered, I guess. But if that's all the personal insight I'm gonna get tonight, then I'm fucked.
Needing an outlet, he drew his head forward and banged it back against the door, hard enough to make it rattle. Kirk's surprised voice came from the other side. "Shit, are you okay, man? Did you fall?"
Lars sighed loudly, rubbing the back of his head somewhat ruefully. "No, I'm fine. Never been better."
"Don't fuckin' lie, Lars, and tell me what freaked you out so badly down there." He didn't sound weary or impatient at all. Only worried. Good old Kirk.
"Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I just slapped Billie like a schoolkid while his wife was right across the table, but I can't really be sure."
"You said she was okay with it, though, right?"
Well then I guess I'm not, Lars said to himself. There was a pause. "It's fucking with my head. This whole night is just fucking with my head." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling his throat tighten with something other than nerves, and pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes. His head was in a whirl, he felt sick, and despite the question that had been answered he was still utterly confused. His emotions were just…all over the place.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?
Yeah, James, what the fuck am I doing?
When his voice emerged, it was brittle and uncertain.
"I'm not sure how much longer I can do this."
Despite the door between them, Lars could almost taste Kirk's shock. The silence fell thick and ominous. When the guitarist finally spoke, his voice seemed timid. "What do you mean?"
Lars didn't reply. After a few moments, he swallowed and stood up, pacing around in a circle as words tumbled from him. "I'm stuck, I'm stuck in my head, there's something I'm not seeing, there's something I still don't get that connects all of this up and makes it all flow in my head, there has to be, because if there's not…" he trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence, even in his head. "It has to flow, it has to work, but I'm stuck, I've been stuck this entire fucking time, I need to get over…"
Get over…
Oh my God, that's…I need to get over James, I'm still stuck on him - I mean, I still have feelings for him, but they're nowhere near as strong as the feelings I have for Billie anymore. The reason I'm still stuck on him is because of how he left me - he chose his wife over me. And now I'm stuck with fucking insecurities, because…
He stopped in his tracks, frozen for a moment and eyes wide at these revelations, before whirling around to the door and opening it a little way. From the shock on Kirk's face, he must've looked distraught or raw, or something. He didn't much care. Pressing his temple against the door, he looked at his bandmate with hollow eyes and finished his thought aloud. "Why would Billie ever choose me over Adrienne? He wouldn't. I know he wouldn't." His eyes strayed over Kirk's shoulder to a framed photograph on the wall, one of Green Day at some party. Conveniently, Kirk was stood in such a way that Tré was obscured, leaving him to see the image of Mike and Billie, arms slung around one another, wide grins on their faces.
Lars's expression held a kind of resigned anguish. "And Presidents are temporary."
"Wh…Wait, Pres…? Lars-" Before Kirk could fully sputter his bewilderment, Lars turned and gave the toilet a flush, as if he hadn't just been hiding out, and exited the bathroom. Kirk was left to follow him back down the stairs, back towards the meal. Lars didn't even want the evening to fly by anymore. Judging by his subdued expression and downcast eyes, he'd all but given up.
Hearing some noise in the hallway, Billie rose from Jake's bedside and left his son to dream, gaze catching the flutter of Kirk's white shirt disappearing into the stairwell. A puzzled frown creased his forehead as he followed. Why had Lars bothered coming all the way up here? He must have forgotten about the small bathroom near the front door. Or took one look at it and decided it was too much like pissing inside a tube of lipstick, which was generally Billie's opinion of the vividly painted, vaguely rounded room. He liked the one in his studio a hell of a lot better. Especially with the ever-growing splashes of graffiti.
"One kid asleep and one surgically attached to his Internet. It'd probably be safe to wander naked now," he quietly teased. Kirk turned slightly to flash a smile but it was half-hearted, and his lover didn't show any sign he'd heard anything. Billie's frown deepened. "Lars?"
Still nothing by the time he got to the downstairs hallway and he strode past the guitarist, reaching for the drummer's arm. He didn't know if Kirk was aware of the pet name or not, but it didn't really matter; instinct had him asking, "Uli?" Voice soft and soothing as Lars finally stopped walking. No answer was forthcoming, though, and Billie stepped close, his free hand rising to rest gentle fingertips on a smooth jaw.
Everything seemed to have drained out of his lover, been literally flushed down the toilet. All the bristling attitude, the arrogance, the passion, even the severe case of nerves…gone. It worried him. He flattened his palm against his lover's cheek but green eyes remained downcast. "Hey," he murmured, and when there was still no response Billie leaned in and kissed Lars. Uncaring that Kirk was stood right there, or that Adrienne was down the hall, or that his kids were upstairs and might need an explanation for a serious kind of kiss like this, though he suspected Joey would need rather less of one, precocious pre-adolescent that he was. At the moment, however, it was all irrelevant as he coaxed the older man's lips apart with his tongue, sliding it in to tangle and dance with another, thumb rubbing delicate strokes along a cheekbone.
For a songwriter, Billie found himself too often without the words to adequately express his thoughts and feelings, but he knew how to do it with a kiss and his mouth worked to convey everything in a basic human rhythm. You're here because I want you here. Because I want you, period.
Because I love you.
Lars's throat tightened again as Billie came close to him, touched him, and when that kiss came the drummer fought against himself to either break away or fall in. It never became a conscious decision, but blank eyes slid closed as he was eased into the caress and began to return it. His hands went to a lithe waist and pulled Billie closer, instinct muting anything else he was feeling. This kiss, or even one of those brief touches that his lover had initiated, was something he'd sorely needed earlier in the night. But as the cliché went, all good things must come to an end, and when this one did, he stayed close but dimly wished it had never come at all. It made him ache.
I feel like a fucking idiot.
He caught Kirk out of the corner of his eye, stood off to the side, skritching at his arm awkwardly, dark brown eyes turned towards him. The Dane knew a level of his anguish had leaked back into his eyes, that much was unavoidable. Billie's own gaze, bright and worried and right there in front of him, drew vulnerability and honesty from him that he'd never have previously allowed. He cleared his throat, hands raising to smooth at the younger man's shirt lapels.
"This is hard for me. A lot harder than I thought it was gonna be. So just…" There was no end prepared for that sentence. His eyes dropped again, his voice going with them into a soft monotone. "Let's just get this evening done, huh? Don't…" He pulled away, out of Billie's embrace, not meeting his eyes as he turned to go back down the hall. "I can't. Not tonight, okay?"
He felt a hand on his arm, and when he turned to repeat himself, he found Kirk there instead. The guitarist spoke under his breath, a degree of urgency in his tone. Obviously he'd been waiting to say this since Lars had breezed past him out of the bathroom. "Wait a second, you've said it yourself before today, why does it have to be either, or?"
Lars's eyes flicked to Billie and back again, stopping just short of giving Kirk a sharp jab in the ribs at his outburst. He hoped that Billie wouldn't understand exactly what Kirk was referring to. Deciding to give his bandmate an answer, his own voice dropped to a murmur. "It's different, it's so fucking different that I have to laugh that you even made that comparison."
Kirk seemed about to attempt a reply, but it never came. He looked back to Billie, shoulders sinking, and Lars caught the apology in those dark brown eyes as he turned and headed down the hall, shaking his head. I feel like a fucking idiot for letting myself in this deep.
Don't touch me. The whole phrase had not been spoken, but Billie still heard the edict and he felt jealousy slice through him again when Lars held back on repeating it upon realising that the hand on his arm belonged to his bandmate, not his lover. Kirk was allowed to touch, was allowed to know just what the fuck was going on in the drummer's head - was allowed the understanding that Billie simply lacked. Either what or what?
He'd thought that kissing his lover might reconnect them, bring Lars out of whatever shadowed place he'd stuck himself in, and it had worked for a brief moment before the light went back out, leaving them both in deeper darkness. It had been a mistake and it hurt that his natural instinct to comfort could be a source of pain instead.
He opened his mouth to answer Kirk's apologetic look and then closed it, spreading his hands helplessly. Billie was at a total loss as they both followed the morose figure. Watching this lifeless shuffling from someone normally bursting with energy squeezed at his chest so hard that it ached to breathe. He thought back to the night they'd found each other again, to the words exchanged whilst limbs were entangled in a hotel bed that had let him put his heart on the line for this man; that had made him realise he'd already begun to fall and gave him the reassurance he'd needed to keep falling. You said you didn't want to lose anyone else that meant something to you - that you wouldn't give me up.
Why does it feel like you just did?
"In here," came Adrienne's voice as Lars passed the living room. The three men entered to find quiet jazz playing in the background and two black thermal carafes plus all the appropriate accessories set up on the coffee table by the leather furniture, the speaker curled into the chair with her own steaming mug.
"Kirk, the smaller jug is just straight coffee for you. I took the liberty of splashing some Irish whiskey into ours." She smiled. "Help yourselves, boys. We're not much for formality here."
Billie stood to the side while the other musicians poured and doctored their coffee, having a bit of a silent conversation with his wife while they couldn't see. He wanted very much to go to her right now, for her touch to soothe him the way he'd tried to do for Lars, but the instant the urge had struck he'd realised something: seeing Billie and Adrienne together had to be a million times harder for his lover than seeing Lars and Kirk's comfort level with each other was for Billie. So he stayed away, answering her voiceless question with a gesture towards Lars whilst tapping his temple and shrugging, telling her that he didn't know what was going on. She nodded, expression turning thoughtful as he started to pour himself a coffee while the other men sat on the large couch.
Once Billie had sunk into the remaining small couch, feeling kinda dwarfed sitting there by himself, Adie offered them all a brilliant smile. "I think we need to get to know each other better, don't you? Kirk, I know you're not drinking but I trust you to play along with us anyway."
She leaned forward the tiniest bit, suckering them in. "Are you gentlemen familiar with a little game called, 'I Never'?"
Lars continued his shoegazing - or rather coffeegazing, as he'd toed off his shoes and tucked his legs underneath himself on the couch, eyes down and observing the slowing spin of his freshly stirred coffee. He hadn't heard of the game, so thought it best to just keep quiet. Kirk, however, was the opposite.
"Ohhh shit!" he exclaimed, equal amounts glee and horror in his voice. The thought of a game had evidently brightened him. "Is that the one- Is it where someone says something they've never done, and if someone else, one of the other players, has done it, they take a drink? That's it, right? And it goes around in a circle, each person says something, and…yeah. Oh man. I haven't played that in fucking years."
Lars settled back deeper into his seat, finally raising his head and looking at least somewhat involved. Maybe a game would be a good idea, something to lighten the mood - there wasn't much else he could do about it, any of this, after all. Perhaps it was because he'd never played or heard of 'I Never' before, or perhaps it was down to his mood, but the drummer failed to see the implications such a game could have, the dark turns it could take, especially with everything that was going on. Whatever the reason, this time his perceptivity failed him and he merely went along with Kirk's obvious eagerness. It was just a dumb game, after all.
His bandmate raised his index finger to make an important point. "Oh wait, I've gotta say right now - what happens in 'I Never' stays in 'I Never', that's the one rule. Even without the alcohol, I'm still likely to get pretty loose tongued. Just as a warning," he grinned. He glanced at Lars, who returned his look with some perplexity. A 'what exactly are you getting us into here' look.
Kirk sat back, bringing one leg up and resting his ankle on his knee. He dipped his head, free hand raised towards Adrienne in a sort of absurd gallant gesture.
"Ladies first."
Billie had no chance to veto what he thought was a disastrous idea, not after Kirk's enthusiastic response and Lars showing a tiny bit of interest. He did narrow his eyes and give his wife a dirty look, letting her know he thought she was nuts to suggest this. Her serene answering smile dimpled her cheeks and he mentally rolled his eyes and shrugged. Something else he was stuck doing, just like the recent wrist slap. He had to admit to himself that it resembled that incident in more than his being roped into it - that there was a level of interest in the outcome, too, even if he did believe that this had the potential to be a very dangerous game indeed.
Adrienne inclined her head to Kirk, replying to his extravagant gallantry in kind. "Okay then." She flicked a glance at Billie, seeming to ponder her choices, and finally continued, "I never considered quitting the band and going solo."
Automatically following the rules, Billie Joe brought his mug to his mouth and took a sip of the whiskey-laced coffee. He flushed slightly as he realised he was the only one, mouth tightening defensively at the other musicians' open surprise.
"Very briefly. Things had gotten…" he let it trail off. "Getting our shit back together was what produced American Idiot so it ended up being a good thing."
He was annoyed that he'd felt the need to justify himself, but even after a few years that was a sore point; it probably always would be and she knew that. He didn't know what Adie was playing at, starting off with that kind of statement. She clearly had her own agenda in mind and Billie was not privy to it.
Sipping absently at his coffee, he took his turn. "I learned to play by slightly different rules, where you just have to make sure you start with 'I Never'; it can be something you have done, or not, it doesn't matter. So, um, I never thought about playing a full concert totally naked." He gulped down another mouthful and lowered the mug, realising that he could conceivably just keep guzzling it like it was plain coffee and end up fucking looped in no time if he wasn't more careful.
Kirk echoed Billie's gulp, nodding like it was an entirely normal thing. "A couple of times, for different reasons. Sometimes it's just the killer heat under those lights and with all that pyro, like in somewhere like Arizona or Japan in the summer. I get so fuckin' overheated sometimes that I think I'm going crazy from it. Sometimes, though not for a long time now, it's down to drunkenness. And sometimes, y'know, shock value. For the hell of it. You don't have to worry about it so much when you've got an Ibanez hanging in just the right place, though!" He directed a wink at Billie before turning his head to Lars. "What about you? You're all over the place during a show."
Lars shrugged slightly. "By the end of the summer shows I'm in my boxers. It's usually enough. Plus, way back in the mists of time, spandex never left much to the imagination, so there's not much point in the exhibitionist side for me."
He sounded thoughtful. It was misleading, because really, he was trying not to think. Becoming introverted was his defense mechanism - when something was troubling him to this degree, something so very personal, he kept his cards close to his chest. Kirk was trying to bring him back out of his shell, which was ridiculous of him, really - he should know more than most how damn near impossible that was and how much he disliked it. Or maybe the guitarist was simply trying to keep the conversation going, keep it light. Maybe Lars was overthinking it. Fandens.
As if answering his thoughts, Kirk nodded. "Okay, it's your turn, Uli."
"My turn?" Lars echoed somewhat stupidly. "Oh. Um." He looked down into his mug for inspiration, brow creasing a little, then murmured his statement. "I never…that's bad English, though, right? I've never drunk a whole bottle of Jägermeister in one night." After a pause he took a gulp, as did Kirk, who made a little noise of displeasure at the memory.
The drummer didn't really expect anyone else in the room to drink. In fact, he barely even glanced around to see if they did. His heart really wasn't in it right at that moment, if it wasn't obvious.
Adrienne took a sip of her coffee, grimacing as if it were the liquor in question. Billie's eyebrows raised. "Is that what you were drinking the night you got your stomach pumped?"
"Yeah." She shook her head with a rueful smile. "Really bad idea. I think I was, what, twenty-two? Something like that."
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah we were on the road somewhere, too fucking far from Minnesota for me to strangle your flake of a roommate when I called and all she kept repeating was that you were in the hospital. I finally had to scream at her that I only had enough change for five minutes so could she calm down and tell me what the fuck had happened before I got cut off."
"Jen wasn't the best person in a crisis, no. But she was the only one who never gave me any grief for you being just this side of legal when we met, so you don't get to dis her," Adie admonished with a grin. "The way everyone else went on, you'd think I was twenty years older than you, not three."
Billie huffed out a laugh. "Admit it, you took shameless advantage of my innocence."
"Guilty as charged." Her eyes acquired a naughty sparkle. "Of taking advantage, anyway. Mike had already taken care of your innocence."
His mouth hung open at the way she had casually plopped that information out there, like the others in the room already knew it. Though he did assume Kirk knew that he'd been involved with Mike before, since he seemed to know everything about Lars - right down to coaxing him into speech with his nickname. It had irked Billie to hear the endearment coming from someone else, to see his lover respond to it, but he was trying to ignore that. Clearly it was a more long-standing pet name than he'd realised, and more widespread, too; not something special between the two of them. That was his own misunderstanding and he didn't want to take it out on anyone else.
But as Lars's lethargy continued, something began to burn low in Billie's stomach; an acidic recklessness that told him it didn't matter what he said or did now because the drummer was already lost to him.
"True enough," he confirmed. "That half of it at least. Nicole Carter'd already taken care of the other half."
Billie refilled his mug, sprawling back on the loveseat and slurping a quarter of it down despite the heat, not caring anymore if he got drunk off his ass. What difference could it possibly make?
With each minute that went by, with each little bit of information about Billie's and Adrienne's past that leaked into him, Lars shrunk back further into himself. It didn't matter to him whether he was being oversensitive or melodramatic, the point was it all latched onto him, twisted into him like fish hooks and each affection-laced word was a sharp tug at every one of them. So she wasn't just some girl, she was far more - heaven forbid the cliché - rock and roll than he'd previously given her credit for. Not only that, but it seemed that Mike had had the same longevity with Billie that Lars had had with James, even in that, as Adrienne had so eloquently put it, 'innocence' had been a factor. If Mike had been removed from the picture with seemingly the same ease that James had removed Lars, what the fuck did that say for Lars's prospects?
Lars could see, could sense the love, the deep and inextricable connection between Billie and Adie, it was in their merest of glances. Why can't I have that? Why can't I have it now? It was a ridiculous, childish thought. She has history with him that I'll probably never have, that I'll certainly never know. I want a better fucking foundation than that damn awards show and two weeks on a fucking island. It's nothing compared to what they have, it's a drop in the ocean, and I'm fucking pissed off that I had the foundation I did work on for so long taken away from me. Now I've got this brand new one and I can't help but get the feeling that I don't even have a fighting fucking chance. I want to work on it, I want this relationship, I just don't want it to be a constant uphill battle. I'm sick of them. I don't fucking want to be temporary…
Wait, what?
No, I don't.
If it seemed like an odd thing for him to be surprised by, Lars had never really acknowledged it, even with his revelations in the bathroom earlier. Even with the silent realisation he'd had while Billie slept on the last night of their vacation - Oh, I'm starting to fall for him. Now it was all solidified in his head, despite all the obstacles, he was still falling.
Oh, well, doesn't that make all this so much fucking easier?
While the cogs had been turning in Lars's head, his grip tightening on his mug, he failed to realise that an entire round of the game had passed without him noticing. He guessed that the questions had been tame enough for him to have passed them by without a sip and not be questioned for it, but now it was his turn again. He blinked the glassiness out of his eyes and cleared his throat. "Um. I don't know. Um." He rubbed at his forehead, looking weary for a few moments. He glanced over at Billie, that anguish shimmering just behind his eyes for a few seconds before he clamped down on it and looked away. A little of the vitriol in his thoughts seeped into his voice. "Fuck it, I have never felt this fuckin' awkward and uncomfortable and…misplaced in my life."
A beat for the shock to become palpable, and he rose, scuffing over to the table to top-up his mug with more whiskey than coffee.
The words hit Billie physically, each one striking his midsection until he could hardly breathe. He'd seen the flare of pain in green eyes, but he didn't understand. He did not comprehend where things had gone so horribly, incredibly wrong. It had been awkward right from the start, yes, but they didn't all know each other yet and that much had been expected. For Lars to be tearing himself up over something and turning Billie Joe inside out in the process, there was obviously more to it but he didn't know what. Fuck, he didn't even know where to start looking and in the meantime, he could feel his lover pulling farther and farther away.
What he did know was that the drummer's bald statement applied to more than one man in the room. He swallowed a mouthful of mostly whiskey, voice edged in the squelching softness of rot when he spoke. "I'll drink to that."
Misplaced. Fucking misplaced. Because Billie put his family ahead of his rock lifestyle. He'd acquired them around the same time in his life; he'd never had the years of swinging bachelorhood that the Metallica band members had had. Green Day's initial burst of success and Billie's marriage, Adie's pregnancy…they had been simultaneous, all three. This was a family home - he was a family man, as strange as it might seem for a punk rocker, and he'd tried to include his lover in that family. That had been the entire fucking point of this catastrophic evening.
He didn't have the high-class pedigree that Lars did; he didn't come from the same world. He had believed that they could still inhabit the same one now regardless of background or past. Clearly that had been foolish in the extreme because every new thing his lover learnt about him was driving him farther away.
Because as he saw it, what it came down to was that Lars didn't want to know these things. Didn't want to be part of these things - didn't want to be part of Billie, didn't want what he had to offer. Didn't want to know that Billie was completely and irrevocably in love with him.
Didn't want someone who wasn't a fucking thing like James Hetfield.
His jaw clenched with the effort of holding it in. That last night on the island, when they'd made love…no. He realised with a sharp jolt that it couldn't have been what he'd thought it was, not if Lars could simply turn it all off like this and feel so misplaced. It couldn't have been the deeply intimate experience for his lover that it had been for himself. Billie had been making love; Lars had obviously been fucking. More gently than usual but Billie had to have imagined the emotional resonance between them. Spun it out of dreams and thin air because he wanted it so badly to be the truth.
He hadn't been in love with Mike for a long, long time - he knew that now - but right then he would have given a great deal for a hug from his best friend and some expression of the still rock solid belief Mike had in him. It wasn't the same coming from Adie; their relationship defined him to a huge degree, but it didn't encompass everything. It didn't reach this half of him, this place in his heart and in his skin where Mike had lived once. The one Lars had occupied in growing stages since the night they first met until he owned it outright. The only problem was, it seemed to be undesirable property to the drummer.
Silently he rose and refilled his mug, the last of the coffee comprising slightly less than half of the liquid reaching almost to the brim. He didn't much care that it wasn't hot anymore mixed like that, curling up at the far end of the loveseat to nurse the drink. Billie could feel his wife's concern but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Or anyone else's. He simply sat there, sipping at coffee-flavoured whiskey, aching as Kirk and Adie took their turns. When it came round to him again, he figured he might as well let fucking everything out. Let Lars know that his decision to withdraw from Billie and Billie's life before he got tainted by it was the right one. The older man always did tease him about being girly, so why not start there?
"I never cross-dressed in full drag, right down to panties and a bra, with full make-up. Just like a girl." He didn't mention that it wasn't really a fetish of his, or offer any explanation at all; he simply let a portion of his drink burn a defiant path down his throat.
Kirk sipped at his coffee, seeming like he was trying to glance all around the room and look at no-one at the same time. "Um, once. Um, it was just a joke," he said quietly, timidly. Lars barely even heard the statement. The game, the stupid fucking game was still going on, even after he'd expressed his total discomfort.
In the mindset he was in, he was likely to fall back on childish tendencies. Being an only child, an only child in a well-off family, things usually went his way. Most of the time he didn't even have to expect them to, they just did. Years down the line, it was only for the fact that he wanted Metallica to succeed so badly, knew they would in his gut, that he didn't even think about throwing a fit when he was staring down at the piece of bologna in his hand, his Loser's Lunch, when they couldn't afford anything more to eat.
But here he had been pushed past the point where he could swallow it, where he could suffer in silence. He was even further out of his comfort zone than he'd been when he came into the Armstrong house however many hours ago, and with every moment that went by, every word that passed either Billie's or Adrienne's lips, his lover seemed determined to twist those fish hooks deeper, to keep pushing him away and ignore his pain, to sabotage the foundation he'd - they'd both - worked on so hard. Lars wanted this to stop. All of it. Now.
Well look at that, it was his turn again.
Kirk peered towards him, speaking in that same careful, quiet voice. "Um, do you want me to take your-"
"No, it's fine. I'm fine. Never been better," Lars interrupted. Kirk gave him an admonishing look and seemed about to say something, to warn him, but he turned away. "I'd actually like to take all my turns now, if that's okay." Not waiting for permission, he continued. "I've never had sex practically onstage," he took a gulp, "I've never spent a reasonably sober night going pretty far sexually with my lead guitarist," he took another gulp; Kirk made a few astonished noises, turning red and not meeting Billie's eyes. "I've never sucked a guy off while one half of my band was asleep a couple of feet away," yet another gulp; Kirk exclaimed something; Lars failed to hear it. He cleared his throat and looked around. "Okay, that's gotta be the sordid, sleazy part out of the way, right? Awesome, now we can get onto the real stuff."
He took a deep breath, let it out, sipped his coffee once more. His eyes stared straight ahead as he spoke.
"I've never felt like I've been thrown in the deep end of a relationship like this without so much as a fucking armband. I never thought a stupid game with doctored coffee would make me feel like I wasn't needed. I never thought that, after everything that was said in that fucking hotel room at that fucking awards show, that the way things ended with my last partner could ever happen again, but I guess I might be naïve." He looked over to Billie. "I never thought that I'd actually have to answer to your drummer like he said, but I'm not letting another of my relationships be ruined right in front of me tonight. I don't want to hurt anybody here, but I'm getting hurt and I'd like that to stop happening."
He stood up and turned to face his lover, barely even aware that Kirk and Adrienne were in the room. "I never, in my romantic relationships, wanted, needed, cared for or fell for any other man but…but him." A long, excruciating pause. Then he raised the mug to his lips and tipped his head back, pouring the rest of his drink down his throat.
He'd probably gone too far, probably said too much, probably would regret it later. But right then he stared down at Billie defiantly, green eyes too bright, then put his empty mug on the coffee table and began tugging on his boots. "I'm done. I'm out of here."
Lars was outside and halfway across the lawn before it registered that people were calling him. He picked out Kirk, he sounded closest. "Chill the fuck out, I'm not taking your fucking car. I'll get a cab or walk or take the fucking BART." A hand settled on his arm, Kirk again. He tore away, sudden fury rising to the surface, and whirled around to glare at him with blazing eyes. "Don't fucking touch me, Hammett, just go back inside and drink your coffee and be so fucking comfortable and at ease with everybody." His gaze flicked over Kirk's shoulder and found Adrienne on the porch. "I can't fucking deal, I'm sorry to ruin the perfect evening you had planned where we all get along great, but I can't fucking deal with all this, especially when I know that…" I'm just fucking temporary. Some self-control returned to him before he spilled himself out entirely for everybody to pick apart.
Then his eyes found Billie, and he could find nothing else to say. He stood there, everything in his body feeling tight and strained, like something was waiting to explode from him. He stood there and could not move his feet to go.
( to chapter 8)
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