Glædig Jul, Chapter Two
Title: Glædig Jul (2 of 3)
Authors: tasyfa and looking_spiffy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Billie Joe Armstrong/Lars Ulrich
Disclaimer: Purely fictional.
Summary: 'Motherfuckforhelvede I'm gonna do it.' Christmas time, mistletoe and wine - and lube, and barstools, and rice pudding… Billie and Lars are spending their first Christmas together as a couple, time divided between their respective families, and so far it's running surprisingly smoothly. That is, until they find a gift on Lars's doorstep that could push their relationship to a whole new level or derail them completely…
Notes: The final part of the Wayward Saints saga. All previous parts can be found here or here.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Start slow, okay?"
The hesitant little giggles, the strange looks; suddenly it all made sense to Billie as his lover's legs closed around him and for a long moment his brain stopped altogether while he stared at Lars. When he could think again, he sat up - carefully, his hands going to support the solid thighs against his waist, though the feel of them there threatened to derail him again.
He cleared his throat. "Lars, I…" As many times as he'd fantasised about this, or even fucking practised what he might say, he found himself struggling now. "Is it…is this because it's Christmas? Because I don't…it can't be a gesture like that, you know, it can't just be because it's romantic even if it is and," he paused, seeing his boyfriend's eyebrows draw together in a way he knew. Billie sighed impatiently.
"Stop that. Stop fucking formulating a response already and just listen, okay? I just need you to stop thinking and listen to me a minute here, really listen. This is important to me, too." He waited until the high forehead smoothed and green eyes became thoughtful before he continued.
"It isn't about just fucking, you know that. And I have never, ever not backed off when you wanted me to. I know you trust me to do that. But this is different, it's… I want it all. I want to be able to touch and taste and do anything I want, and I need to be able to do that without you saying no. I'll take it as slow as you need me to - hell, I'll come up with some lame reindeer story for my kids if I'm still here in the morning - but I need to know that you won't call a halt."
Lars's expression was the bewildered one now, mixed with a little disappointment and maybe even hurt. Billie tightened the grip on his thighs and tried to explain. Hard enough to do without the bodily instinct screaming through him to shut up already and go for it. So close, his lover was so close and so open but it wasn't quite as simple as his libido wanted to make it.
"Back at the villa, when you-when you asked me to stop, I… Well, I did, and I understood it when you said it hadn't been my mistake. I understand it a lot better now, knowing you a lot better. But that doesn't change the fact that it felt like-like I'd forced myself on you," he stumbled over the words a little, giving a sharp headshake when Lars would have said something. "I know I didn't. I know that. And you know you can trust me by this time, because we wouldn't be here if you didn't. I'm just trying to explain where I'm coming from, you know, why I need to have that total freedom with you. Because if you called a halt again, even as different as the circumstances are, I don't know that I'd be able to try the next time."
Billie slipped his hands along Lars's hips and up, along the ribcage to slide under shoulders as he lowered his body, earnest hazels holding vulnerable green. He bent for a languid kiss and then raised his head, near-vibrating with how tightly he was holding in the need to devour; watching for the reaction when his hips slid forward that last little bit and his naked cock rubbed hard against Lars's ass, his own breath harsh at the feeling of it. "I need you to be sure you can give me everything, Uli. I need you to be fucking sure."
Lars's chest shuddered as he felt Billie rub against him, sparks shooting along his spine and making his skin tingle. It was a base reaction, though; his lover's words had tilted things slightly for him. Though in the times when he'd thought about this moment, he'd never allowed himself to imagine the scenario past his own words or gesture of submission, never dared to inwardly tailor the perfect scene in case something went awry and he would be shattered by it. He'd been smart to do so, because he hadn't expected anything quite like this, not to this degree. For someone who'd just physically opened to their lover in the most intimate way, it did not help to instil confidence in him. As he thought about how to address everything Billie had said, his arms looped around Billie's neck in what was probably a subconscious move to keep him there, to make sure he wouldn't pull away with him feeling so very defenceless. Long lashes veiled green as he looked down at those strong thighs holding him, coming back to Billie's face as he found the words and expressed them quietly.
"I don't want you to doubt me, I don't want you to think that there are any obstacles between us with this now. I-I mean, this is me. This is me opening to you completely in the only way I could think of. I'm sorry that I maybe didn't express myself a little clearer, but I'm nervous and I haven't done this for the first time in a long time." He became aware of his heart thrumming in his chest, and his gaze skittered away briefly, only to return to hazel to ensure his words were made clear.
"I'm glad you brought up the villa. Obviously I'm not taking this lightly by any means, and no, it's definitely not because it's Christmas, even though I think you've guessed how important this holiday is to me. But do you really think, after all that happened, that I would just take the chance that I might be ready just because of the convenience of the season? After how much it fucked with both of us, that I'd be any less than a hundred and ten percent sure the next time?" A touch of frustration leaked into his voice as he continued. "It isn't fucking, I don't want it to be fucking, God. I mean, please, don't think I'm getting corny here, but I want you to make love to me. I-I just," he shook his head. "Billie, I can't think of a better way that I can express that." He didn't consciously realise, but through the impassioned little speech, he was shaking a bit, and only now as he swallowed against a tight throat did he realise how emotional he was getting. This was one of the times, as he touched foreheads with his lover, arms tightening around his neck, where he hoped his feelings were showing clear through vibrant green eyes.
"Please, don't let me have opened to you like this when you're not sure that I'm completely sure," he murmured in a voice just above a whisper. "I-I haven't done this in a while and I just become a completely different person like this, one you've never seen before. Right now the only thing I'm asking of you, the only boundary I'm giving you is to please take it easy with me at first. Everything else is yours. Please." He added something silently in his head, something that he would not be so exploitative as to voice in case it would sound as if he were trying to guilt Billie into this. If you pulled away right now, I don't think I'd be able to handle it.
"Okay. Okay. Shh," Billie soothed, feeling the way Lars trembled under him. He wasn't going to apologise for having asked for reassurance - he'd made interpretive mistakes before, big ones, and for all that he trusted his instincts this was too significant to wing it. He let himself relax, his body all but melting over his lover's, covering him securely and pressing a light kiss to full lips before he spoke. One hand cupped a Danish cheekbone, thumb stroking the crinkled skin at the corner of a green eye.
"You say so much without words and I…sometimes I need to check that what I'm hearing is really what you're saying. Sometimes I need the words, Uli." He claimed another kiss, and another, the rhythm unhurried, full of gentle heat.
I haven't done this for the first time in a long time. Only now, with Lars having wholly opened himself, did the true sense of that penetrate. Billie knew that the last time his lover had bottomed had been almost a year ago. Not that long as time was usually measured. It was difficult to think of someone he'd been sleeping with all this time as virginal. Because Lars was, in fact, a very experienced lover - but almost entirely with women. For men, there had only been James. And while Billie had obviously known that, and known when that relationship had started, it hit him deeper now that his lover's last first time with a man had happened before Billie had even started high school.
Tranquillity settled over him as his focus shifted, that burning need transmuting to a desire to please, to make this an experience that his boyfriend would be eager to repeat. Take it easy on me, Lars had asked, and Billie would.
He continued the kisses with no particular goal except to enjoy the taste and feel of Lars's mouth, and to give the drummer the chance to centre himself again. At length Billie broke away, nuzzling the smooth-shaven jaw until Lars turned his head slightly and he could reach that pierced ear with his mouth and trace its shell with the tip of his tongue. A small noise came from Lars and Billie grinned; it was clearly audible when he murmured, "You taste like cinnamon still. I like it. I like this, and I want you. Jeg elsker dig."
The only other phrase he'd learned in Danish. It felt like the time and place to say it, to reassure Lars as fully as he could that he wasn't going anywhere, but this time he didn't pause to gauge his lover's reaction. He simply recaptured that sweet mouth, smile lingering at the fervent, speechless response to what were three little words in both languages. I love you.
Lars almost choked on his breath when Billie bent for another kiss, eyes opening and going wide. Unable to speak for the lips covering and moving against his, he unlooped his arms from around Billie's neck and slid callused hands around his waist, up to his shoulder blades, nails biting into the skin just a little. The physical shock of those three words coursed through him like a wave, making the hair rise on his arms and his chest ache in a wonderful way, and after a few moments he was returning the kiss with intensity. Even when Billie broke off the kiss and seemed prepared to move his mouth's attention elsewhere, Lars made a noise of something akin to annoyance and cupped the side of the younger man's head, bringing their lips back together. Fuck no, you can't say that to me and think you're getting away that easily. When the kiss finally did end, they were both breathless, and Lars wore a disbelieving smile. His eyes shone. "Jesus, Bill, you tryin' to make me cry or something?" He raised his head for two, three little kisses before continuing, "I'd almost say it was fuckin' underhanded, if I didn't appreciate it so much."
He laughed softly in the face of Billie's answering grin, rubbing his foot along his lover's thigh. "Jeg elsker dig." He licked at his top lip, nodding. "Jeg elsker dig."
His nerves were settling. They weren't silent by any means, and they wouldn't be, not this first time. But Billie's words, his touch, his kisses soothed him, made him feel secure and needed, and…
I want you.
It may have been surprising, but those words held an importance to Lars all their own. It wasn't enough to be needed, he wanted to be wanted, too, needed Billie to want him in this way, or else there would be no point in this at all. As much as he knew it already, right then it gave him an extra shot of confidence to hear it aloud. I want you to want me, huh?
His smile faded a little, growing serious. He smoothed his hands over Billie's body, following curves and lines. He raised his head again, flicking the tip of his tongue along his lover's bottom lip, heat shimmering in his eyes. "You taste like you. I like that a lot, min skat," he murmured, voice low. Following his words with a slow, full kiss, Lars lifted his hips to rub against Billie's cock, giving a faint whine to the gentle mouth on his.
Billie swallowed that whine, emitting a low moan himself at the brazen friction. He shifted slightly, feeling his cock slide fully into the groove between Lars's ass cheeks, and he began to rock his hips against his lover in a lazy rhythm without breaking the kiss. One hand remained anchored in curling brown hair; the other caressed bare skin in long strokes.
The staccato whines and moans coming from Lars spiralled through him. Billie was grateful that he'd thought to learn those few words when he'd gone looking for a translation to etch onto the platinum dog tag; grateful he'd practised how to say them and thrilled at their impact. The small bit of metal nestled warm between their bodies now and he lifted just enough to slip his hand in there and tug on it, remembering the Dane's words when he'd first shown it to Billie. I want people to know that I belong to someone.
"Mine," he whispered against a swollen mouth. Billie reached above them for the pillows, raising up so he could stack them on the bed beside them, stripping the case from the bottom one. Satin-on-satin was too slippery for this; he needed the pillows to stay put, not shoot off the bed when pressed upon.
He looked down at Lars, marvelling at his continued openness - at the emotion shining so clearly in those green eyes. He could see why his lover might say he became a different person, and it was true that Billie had never seen him quite like this, but it wasn't so very different after all. It was, simply, more, and he sensed that as they continued, more would become all until the drummer had exposed his inner self utterly.
The same way Billie did for him.
Hazels shone warm when he sat all the way up and extended a hand to Lars, bending to kiss the fingers placed in his. "I want you to kneel in front of the pillows. Can you do that for me?"
"Kneel?" Lars echoed somewhat vacantly, discombobulated by the lavish attention, blinking and looking to the pile beside him. His free hand came up to hang onto his dog tag as he sat up, as habit would have him do every so often, thumb passing over the engraving before moving up the bed to push himself into a kneeling position. This brought his face close to Billie's, and he nuzzled at his lover's jawline, squeezing the hand he held.
He didn't know exactly why Billie needed him in front of the pillows; perhaps his nerves were throwing him off, but at no point did his mind think of questioning it. So, he placed a kiss at a pulse point on Billie's throat and shifted himself around, setting his knees up parallel to the length of the stack and smoothing his palms out over the silky material. For some bizarre reason the position and the pillows reminded him of church, of pews and kneeling to pray. A spark went off in his eyes as he raised them to look at the younger man. You want me to confess my sins, Billie Joe? In the state of mind he was in he couldn't help but blush, colour quite obviously staining his cheeks even in the dull light.
He swallowed and tugged on the dog tag again, the position he was in adding another degree of vulnerability to the amount he already felt. It felt good, though; before it might have felt too much, might have made him too self-conscious, might have brought an early end to anything they may have planned. Right now, trust outweighed every bit of stage fright he might have had, and the nervousness only added to the adrenalin and excitement. Glancing down at the pillows, his gaze caught the thundercloud on Billie's chest before coming back to those hazels that dually set off a dull burn in his stomach and blanketed him with secure warmth. He licked his lips.
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Yeah, just like that." Heated approval lit Billie's eyes as he took in the sight and he added, "Perfect."
His tone made it clear that he meant the man more than the position and Lars's colour deepened further, delighting Billie. This was the part of Lars that he saw in a different incarnation almost every day - the not-so-hidden sweetness that made him do things like put ribbons on bottles of champagne. Or buy a programmable coffeemaker so that Billie could take hot coffee with him on those mornings when he needed to leave far too early after staying the night. Little things; there were always little things with his boyfriend. But this one, here, this was big.
Unable to help himself, Billie moved closer and brought the drummer's mouth to his in a hard kiss, some of his self-restraint slipping at the trust Lars was showing him. He heard a loud moan as arms came up around him and he answered it with a growl.
Soon enough he pulled away, a smirk appearing at how disoriented Lars seemed. Billie took full advantage of that and shifted position, sliding behind his lover, knees slipping between another pair and spreading them wider.
The drummer stiffened a little and Billie braced his feet on the mattress, slipping palms up a furred chest to curl over tensed shoulders and encourage Lars backwards. "Lean on me, Uli. Slow, remember? We're taking it slow. I just want to touch you right now."
He dropped several light kisses along the bare shoulder and neck, holding his boyfriend until he began to relax back into him. Billie remembered vividly how he had found his own ability to let go of everything at last in a position much like this: with his lover's solid body behind him, offering tangible, real support. He hoped that the Dane would find it similarly liberating as tattooed hands began to roam.
Lars leaned back obediently, head coming down to rest on his lover's shoulder as his eyes slipped closed, concentrating on the soothing, almost methodical progress of familiar hands. He was sure Billie could feel the hard thump-thump-thump of his heart each time his palm smoothed over the left side of his chest, which only made it beat harder as if to make sure its presence was known. Those kisses delicately scattered over his nearby skin felt so good, and when they stopped he sought to reciprocate, head rocking to the side as he planted a wet kiss just beneath Billie's earlobe, then another on the lobe itself, drizzling a few where he could reach before resting his nose against his lover's neck.
Billie's thumb grazed over his pierced nipple, drawing a high sound from his throat; the motion was repeated, and Lars whined. Sensation danced over bare flesh where hands briefly were, and he gave a small smile though Billie wouldn't be able to see it. "Feels good," he elaborated in a hushed voice. One of his hands came up to rest over Billie's as it moved over him, before raising further to clasp the back of the frontman's neck, stretching his body, opening it further.
Fingertips followed the line between his thigh and stomach, delicate strokes flitting past dark curls of hair and making his cock twitch. It might not gain the attention it so requested any time soon, but that was okay. He pressed his body back, fitting himself tight against his lover and humming as he relaxed. This is okay.
His eyes only opened when one of Billie's wayward hands stopped at his stomach and he was gently encouraged to bend, the younger man staying flush with him until his free hand met the bed. Briefly, his heart skittered in its rhythm, but the hands still on him and Billie's calm words - we're taking it slow - kept him settled. Enough for him to arch and moan, smirking at the answering groan. "Feels really fucking good."
"Glad to hear it." Billie's voice had grown husky, desire infusing it. "You're fucking incredible, Uli."
He followed the statement with the light scrape of teeth across the nape of his lover's neck as his hands checked their position. His aim had been a little off and Billie tugged the pillows tight against Lars's thighs, hearing his breath hitch as he relaxed into them a bit.
Billie chuckled, smoothing his hands along his lover's sides. "There are a couple of advantages to this. One, I won't have to listen to you bitch tomorrow about how sore your back is." He grinned at the splutter that produced, grin widening when it transformed into a moan as his hand closed around Lars's erection and guided it to lay pinned between the drummer's abdomen and the soft fabric. He pressed his hips forward, rocking against Lars, and the high sound that accompanied the slide of flesh against satin hit him in the gut exactly right. The teasing aspect of his speech disappeared. "And that's the other reason."
Delicately, he stroked the erection in his hand, featherlight touches of distraction as he bent to bestow wet kisses to a naked back, his tongue swirling along the knobbly vertebrae.
"There's something I've always wanted to say to you, Lars." Billie punctuated his words with continuing kisses, trailing farther down until he needed to untangle his lower body. He shifted back, keeping up the light strokes with one hand while the other supported him as his mouth travelled lower. "You don't get to come 'til I tell you."
He let go when he reached his target, sliding his hand across one bare hip to meet the other and spread Lars open to take a long lick, from the base of his balls, over his hole, and right up to where his flesh parted. Every inch of skin that concealed erectile tissue; that would grow unbearably sensitive with stimulation as blood rushed into it; Billie Joe covered it all with a film of saliva as he tasted his lover greedily, feeling a shudder run through Lars and hearing raw moans that had their answer in the ache in his own cock.
New. New, new, new, the word flashed in Lars's head over and over like a demented neon sign when he abruptly realised exactly what Billie was planning. Brand fucking new. Eyes wide open, lustrous green stared down at the tattooed fingers - all he could see of Billie at that angle - and the one-two punch of the younger man's extremely familiar instruction and the subsequent flex and drag of his tongue had him vocalising loudly.
Brand fucking new. Age meant nothing without experience, and though Lars was about to be forty-three years young, he had never experienced this before. The only time he'd even approached the idea was one night with Kirk a decade ago, but they'd both been far too wasted at the time to do anything that wasn't really fucking easy. For no particular reason, it never got brought up again. Over the months in which he and Billie had been together, he'd repeatedly indulged in the most intimate tastes of his lover, but the roles had obviously never been reversed.
The surprise and potential fear of the new experience were completely overshadowed by oh my God how fucking incredible it felt. And this was just the start.
His palms slid across satin as he sank to his elbows, ass raised high and legs spreading a little wider. His eyes fluttered closed and he rested his forehead on the mattress below. A tremor shook his body as he managed to speak. "Th-this is payback, right? All the times…" Unable to complete the thought let alone the sentence, Lars heaved a deep breath and released it with the only words he could manage. "Ohh fuck, Billie."
The rush as Lars opened to him threatened to dissolve Billie's control and he forced himself to focus on the drummer's body, on finding a rhythm with his licks that had hips instinctively pushing back at him, as much as the restricted position allowed. His thumb rubbed along the perineum as he pulled off long enough to speak. The utter want he felt sounded loud and clear in his roughened tone.
"Payback? Maybe a little." He nuzzled the skin over the tailbone, pressing a light kiss to it. "Mostly it's about your pleasure, though. I want," he paused to lick, interspersing his remaining words with passes of a pointed tongue. "I want to make you feel amazing."
His fingers caressed the rest of his lover's sensitive skin as he brought his face in close, tongue extended to lick circles around Lars's opening and then sliding inside - slow, so slow at first, but picking up speed soon enough as the choked sounds flying from Lars grew more urgent. Billie reached beneath the pillows to retrieve the tube of lubricant and coated his fingers. When he withdrew to press kisses higher up, the replacement with a single finger went smooth and fast, and his other hand closed softly around Lars's balls, fondling even as his mouth continued to work at whatever skin was available, skating as close as possible to where his knuckle disappeared and reappeared in a regular timestamp to the accompaniment of whines and gasps.
Fuck, I've never…I didn't know this, Lars thought in fragments as that teasing tongue fucked into him, and he would have felt a huge sense of loss on its withdrawal had it not been for its quick replacement with a slicked finger. All he knew right then was that one night he wanted to come on the stimulation of Billie's tongue alone, and soon. This avenue was one he would insist on exploring in the very near future, because those few minutes were perhaps some of the best - forgiving the pun - tasters he could have hoped for. Briefly he wondered if his tongue ever felt that good. Not like he had the capacity to ask right then, so he'd save it for another time.
Finger in my ass, his dizzy mind then offered, spine arching and hips bucking shallowly into the satin wrapped pillows beneath him. All the friction combined caused a long, low moan to be drawn from his parted lips, broken when his body was shaken with a light tremor. Then a second finger came, pushing in so very slowly, and it was only then when he really became aware of himself stretching around those digits, and his stomach did a flip, a thrill of alarm shooting up his spine. As fleeting as the feeling had been, Lars opened his eyes and craned his neck, a barely there whimper escaping him, needing to see his lover right there behind him. After all, the last time this occurred, part of the reason it had gone so horribly wrong was that Lars had expected to see James. He didn't expect it anymore, but it was a niggling little tweak of paranoia that he guessed would not be silenced, not on this occasion. The sight of Billie instilled more security and confidence in him than he could adequately explain.
He strained to see over his shoulder, and there was that mop of black hair, full lips skating over his skin and hazel eyes that almost glowed with a heat all their own. He gave a wobbly smile and let his head drop back down, curling his fingers into the sheets and pushing back against those two fingers with a soft whine.
Lars's flash of alarm hadn't gone unnoticed, and Billie straightened, shuffling closer until his hand pressed against his own abdomen. He reached down, breath expelling in a harsh gust as he grasped his erection and nestled it beside Lars's, and then his hips began to rock, pushing his fingers into his lover and rubbing their cocks together as he bent over the sweat-gleaming back and nuzzled a shoulder blade.
He didn't have much experience at talking dirty, but he figured that one way to keep Lars grounded in the here and now would be to speak, so he gave it a try. His voice came out in a low growl as the satin friction worked on his libido, too.
"You liked that, huh? Feeling my tongue inside you, fucking you. Me touching you so fucking intimately. I'll do it to you again. Maybe next time I'll jerk you off, too, and taste your orgasm from the inside."
A deep groan ripped from his throat as his boyfriend pushed back sharply and he eased in another finger, spreading them slightly as his hand continued to work, continued to penetrate, his hips still directing the thrusts. He wanted Lars good and stretched - good and ready, and soon, because his own body was beginning to demand some attention, too.
Billie Joe sank his teeth into his lover's shoulder, not breaking the skin but deep enough to bruise, to mark, and then made his desires known in a guttural rasp.
"I want you. Fuck, I want you so goddamned much." Another bite; he sucked at the skin furiously in an effort to calm himself down, even while he didn't stop anything else - didn't cut himself a break, either. "Not like this. I want you on your back, so I can see those beautiful eyes and kiss you," he panted, his supporting hand reaching up and sliding into his lover's hair to massage the scalp, insistent and encouraging both. "Can you take me?"
Lars did reply, but the words were nonsensical, syllables strung together and sludgy and probably not in the language he intended. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded helplessly into the mattress, everything Billie had said rolling around in his head and trying to find the right order - liked that, taste, jerk you off, fuck, beautiful, want you… "Yeeaahh…yes, yeahyeah…" The repeated word he managed to expel sounded wet and needy, thin and high, the end melting into a groan. He trembled again, skin burning where Billie's teeth had been, head pushing back against the hand there, nuzzling almost. A stream of words finally came.
"Nnnn…need t'see…need you, need to see you, Bill, I wanna, please…"
Another tremor shook him, and he pushed back hard against the three fingers inside him, hard enough for a jolt of pain to shock through him, a cry exploding from him followed by a hiss. He didn't care that it hurt; no, he liked that it hurt - it was almost a year since he'd done this, and just once he wanted, needed to really feel it. A pause, and he undulated his body, sensation rippling through him with a desperate moan. Needing a sweeter touch, one shaking hand prised fingers away from the sheets and came up to grasp the one at his head.
"Oh fuck, Billie, please." And now he was begging, really begging, voice hushed and hopeful and like no sound he'd ever made with Billie before. "Please, please, fuck, feels good, I need, please, yeah…"
When Billie began to withdraw those torturous fingers, the words struck him suddenly.
This is it. This is it.
Working on pure instinct and adrenalin, Billie pulled back, tipping the drummer over as he swept the pillows away with one impatient hand, grabbing the tube from underneath them and applying a generous - probably too generous - amount to his cock as Lars settled flat.
Green eyes shone up at him, naked and needy, with those nerves clearly visible again, there and throughout his body as another shiver trembled through Lars. Billie Joe dropped down, covering him and latching on to the mouth that had uttered such sweet music. He kissed aggressively, tongue plunging into willing warmth in a stark preview, then he landed several hard kisses on the smooth jawline, forcing Lars to turn his head so that Billie could suck on his pierced ear. It was a familiar action, a familiar taste; and he began to babble, nonsense pouring out of him that he hoped was comforting and not just stupid.
"I'm here. I'm right here and I've got you; it's okay. I love you."
Another demanding kiss, his body trembling slightly at everything Lars's surrender had stirred up. He repeated, "I love you," and then his mouth was gone as he rose, lifting his lover's hips. He couldn't wait; didn't dare. Waiting meant giving Lars the chance to start thinking, and Billie's every instinct told him that would derail it all.
He pushed inside, slow and steady, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his jaw clenched at the feeling of it - the physical shock of all that heat and pressure, and the incredulousness that he was feeling this at last. That Lars had been ready; that he hadn't held anything back - nothing, he'd yielded it all - and the knowledge made Billie's chest tighten as he bent down, seated fully inside his boyfriend, and established a rhythm: measured, shallow thrusts, as gentle as he could manage right now.
Abrupt movement, and Lars was flat on his back and kind of startled, clear green struck by fierce hazel with the force of a punch. It didn't scare him, none of this did; he wanted it, needed it too much to be scared. He didn't doubt himself or his lover, either, because while that ever-present nervousness made his body shake, trust ensured his mind was steady. The word wait had swelled in his throat when Billie stole kiss after hard kiss from him, making it tight, but it never emerged. He knew that if it all became too much, Billie would be able to soothe him, knew it in his gut that the younger man would not let suffocating anxiousness steal the Dane away from him, not now, and he was inexpressibly grateful for that.
He let loose a soft gasp at the press of Billie's cock against his pucker, and the shockwave washed over him, goose bumps rising over his whole body. Then pushing, pushing, and Billie felt huge and his eyes were wide as his head pushed back hard into the mattress and he couldn't help but whimper and oh God oh fuck this is happening oh- there. Billie's hips rested against his ass in a contrasting moment of calm after the flurry of activity, and Lars's breaths were coming quick and shallow now, staring up at Billie as he folded down over him, holding onto the anchor of those eyes as his body adjusted to the feeling of his lover inside him. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP went his heart, really fucking loud - Hear how loud my heart's beating for you, Billie? - and his chest ached at it all.
It's okay. It's more than okay. This is…
He looped his arms around Billie's neck, ankles hooking together as legs wrapped around a lithe waist in an echo of earlier. Colour rose in his cheeks again, and though words wouldn't come, he gave a small smile.
You've got me.
Pleasure came rushing through him again when Billie began to rock into him, and the hands at rounded shoulders tightened, nails setting into pale skin. All he could do now was pant out a thankful moan for each of Billie's thrusts and hang on, letting his lover push him higher.
That blushing smile might have been the most precious expression Billie had ever seen on his boyfriend's face. Even through the arousal singing through him - the pleasure building in his belly, spiralling higher with every minute, every thrust - he had the urge to shelter, to cherish and protect as well as ravage, and a gut-level understanding rose out of the realisation that this was what Lars felt when Billie let go - this was exactly what his lover felt. It choked his breath and made his heart stutter.
He stole a kiss, murmuring into the stream of moans, "Fucking gorgeous, so sexy. Love you so much."
Billie straightened, feeling callused fingers scrape down his back as he drew upright, heated gaze locked with Lars's. His hand, already slippery, reached between them and closed around his lover's erection, beginning to stroke in a slow, counterpoint rhythm. A smirk graced his mouth at the resulting cry, hazels holding so much fire as he drove Lars closer and closer to the edge.
The Dane's tongue flickered out, darting over drying, reddened lips as he arched into Billie's hand. He hadn't quite caught all of what the other man had said, what with him being so very vocal and all, but the kiss and the warmth in hazel eyes spoke more than enough volumes for now. They sent a ripple of heat up his spine, making him shiver in an entirely different way than before. The words may have arrived at his ears blotted out by his own moans, but he knew he was loved.
"Billie, Billie, fuck, Billie…Billie," and he didn't want anything in particular but to feel that name on his tongue, expelled in delicious rhythm with his lover's thrusts and strokes and the movement of his own hips, rocking between the dual stimulation. "Billie, oh fuck, fuck, Billie…ah…" The sound rose with every passing second until it became reedy and desperate, his body wracked with tremors and his spine remaining in its arched state. His moans were almost sobs now; he was too overwhelmed by the physical sensations to allow his mind to consider the deeper emotional ones, and were he more coherent he would have been glad of it - if tears had begun streaking his face, it might have been a little too much for him in this state.
He writhed, arms sweeping out over the satin covers and eventually managing to push himself up and wrap an arm around Billie's head. He brought their foreheads together and stole a hard kiss of his own, fucking himself onto Billie's cock until he was rewarded with a loud moan. "Oh fuck me, I love you," he groaned in reply, the words leaving him in a rush, and he licked at a full bottom lip before lying back, eyes shining. "Please," he finally breathed, looking imploringly up into glowing hazel. The fire swirling in the pit of his stomach matched that glow, his balls beginning to draw tight. "Please, min skat."
Billie couldn't hold out against the exquisite pleading or the way Lars's hips began to crash against his. He let his reins slip, knowing that he didn't need to be as careful as he would were Lars truly a virgin; the barrier had been in his mind and heart, not his body, and experience told him that by this time, any and all sensation would be welcome, so long as it was more.
His speed increased dramatically as he stopped holding back and the cry that tore from Lars's throat when Billie matched that rhythm with his hand, the high volume shimmering in the air, did him in. Billie shuddered violently in the grip of his orgasm, hips stuttering before he steadied and thrust right through it, growling deep in his throat.
"Now. Come for me now."
He bent closer, focus intent on his lover's contorted expression even as his mind blew apart with his release, and then closer yet, teeth gripping the exposed throat with a husky, distorted chorus emerging as he felt warm liquid cascade over his hand. "Mine."
Way too fucking much, was Lars's final delighted thought as he came, Billie multiplying everything he was doing by ten, a hundred, and the word now had scarcely left his lips when the drummer spilled himself into a tattooed hand. And Billie was coming too, coming inside him, and oh fuck it felt so good, so, so good. Adding to that the teeth at his throat, and Lars was lost to the world for a few blissful moments, body shaking to pieces and throat releasing a desperate wail.
His awareness eventually picked up on his hips still bucking, utterly wrung out but still wanting more. He opened dazed green eyes to see Billie still there, still above him, still looking down on him. His mind couldn't process much else, so for a few moments, silent but for their gasped breaths, all he did was stare, wide-eyed. Finally his throat grew tight and his chest began to hurt, emotion suddenly catching up with him, and he reached out for his lover, needing to crush himself against that lean body. His arms wrapped tight around Billie's back, pulling him down until he could bury his face in the crook of the younger man's neck, pressing closed eyes against sweat-slicked, hot skin.
He breathed. That was all he could do. Cling to Billie - that's what it was, he wouldn't argue with it, he was clinging to Billie for dear life - let his body tremble uncontrollably and breathe. He felt kind of broken, but in a good way, in the right way - felt shattered into a thousand pieces, and right now only a few had come together to work, to make the Lars Billie was more familiar with. He hoped dimly that Billie didn't mind the Lars that was latched onto him right then; hoped that he liked the Lars that had emerged tonight. Small, innocent little hopes like that were all he could muster.
He held onto Billie, his anchor, completely unable to speak, and just breathed.
Billie had seen the dawn rush of emotion in green eyes, clearing out the haze, so he wasn't totally caught off guard when he was yanked down into a fierce embrace. Breathing heavily yet, he let himself relax into the trembling body beneath him, supporting his weight on knees and elbows while one hand went to sweat-plastered brown hair and he combed his fingers through the tangles. Soothing.
Amidst the welter of his own feelings was the relief that he hadn't paused - had simply forged ahead with the permission he'd been given. For Lars to have had this tidal wave of awareness of his vulnerability hit him mid-lovemaking would have been disastrous. Now, though, it was okay. He'd already made it past the hardest part; he just needed some time to deal with it. Billie understood that.
He rubbed his cheek against the top of the Dane's head with a soft smile, remaining silent for the moment. Continuing to listen to their breathing grow more regular - his before Lars's, but it began to even out, too. Continuing to pet damp, curling hair. Every so often Billie Joe turned his face slightly and dropped a swift kiss against his lover's head, content to wait for him to relax.
He felt good. Physically, of course, though it did feel kinda weird that his ass had gone untouched - normally he'd be pleasantly sore about this time. In a way it underscored the magnitude of what had happened. And for all that it had been a total surprise and he'd needed to question Lars's readiness at the beginning, Billie thought the whole thing had gone pretty fucking well. Much better than he'd envisioned, truly; but despite his glimpses of this side of his lover, he could not have known just how much of himself Lars would throw into the experience. Maybe he should have. He didn't bother berating himself for not being imaginative enough to extrapolate that. Instead, he was grateful to have been able to handle it and humbled by the trust Lars had placed in him.
When the drummer was breathing easy, if still clutching on tight, Billie finally spoke, affection shading his voice. "You're beautiful, Uli."
Lars's hands tightened on Billie's shoulders and he made a choked sound. Don't do that, don't say that, a small voice said in his head. Tryin' to make me cry again, right? said another, but neither emerged from his parted lips. He did manage to say something, though. "Fuck," he breathed to Billie's collarbone, body still trembling. "Fuck," more hoarse this time.
Something deeper, something better, something more. Motherfuckforhelvede I did it. We did it.
Feels good.
He felt so good. Overwhelmed and emotional as fuck, but the weight of this was gone from his shoulders and it was so much more than he'd dared to hope for. The last piece of territory James had held in Lars had been blasted away - this little Uli was another man's responsibility now. Billie had cherished him, pushed him when he'd needed to be pushed and kept his fears at bay, and the result was…well, the result was this quivering, limpet-like body formerly known as Lars Ulrich. He felt sore, though not too much, and there was that persistent ache in his chest, but…he felt so good.
His arms relaxed, though he was still unwilling to release his lover in case he might vanish or something absurd like that.
"I love you," and it was hushed and it went kinda squelchy at the end and he couldn't manage much else, but he'd said it and he didn't think he'd ever meant it as much as he did then. He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Billie's throat. "Jeg elsker dig, oh fuck, so much."
After a moment, his hands slid to either side of Billie's neck, and he brought his mouth to his lover's in a searingly tender kiss.
Billie rested his forehead against Lars's when they broke for air, an irrepressible smile stealing across his features. He nudged the drummer's nose with his own. "I'm gonna take a page from somebody's smug book and say that you're gonna wanna do that again sometime. And so am I." His eyes sparkled as he shifted enough to pull out, chuckling at the grimace that passed over Lars's face. "Though I bet there were some parts you didn't miss at all."
He bent for another kiss, feeling as though he'd done most of his communicating tonight with his mouth, and not in words despite having seemingly picked up a touch of Lars's habit of babbling. But right now something burned in him at the wet rasp of Danish that he understood, and he drew back enough to be able to focus clearly on beloved green eyes.
"Mine," Billie whispered, and the raw edge in his voice coupled with the bright shine of hazels to betray more of what this had meant to him than he would ever say. He wasn't in James's shadow anymore. "All mine."
Lars nodded, a hard thump of concurrence going off in his chest like a kick drum, and he smiled at what lay in his lover's eyes. In his befuddled, nerve-wracked state, he had to admit that he hadn't much considered what Billie might have been going through, but it appeared in the gleam in that gaze that the emotion of this night had gotten to him, too; not quite in the same way as the drummer, whose demons had been lurking with whispers of the past and visions of sharp blue eyes that could break him. The look on Billie's face read a hundred things. I'm here. I've always been here. Those demons mean nothing and I mean everything, and James is gone. I've always been here and now you know that. Nothing to be afraid of. I love you. Mine.
The older man was almost back down to Earth now, hands skating idly over Billie's body and refamiliarising himself with the man who had an unprecedented hold on his heart. His eyes went to the tattoo, his tattoo, and he rubbed his palm over it in contemplative silence. Then, quietly and calmly, he told Billie something he'd never spoken of before to anyone.
"The first time - my first time, it was pretty cold. We were in New York in a kind of warehouse in a shitty part of town, and all we had to sleep on was sleeping bags and whatever we could find, cardboard, foam, whatever. We had to be so quiet, so fuckin' quiet, because Mustaine was passed out like five feet away, and if we'd have moved, the cardboard woulda slid along the concrete and woke him up. I felt like if I'd have moved anyway, it'd go, it'd be gone, it wouldn't have happened." He paused. "It-it hurt, we didn't really know what we were doing, so," his voice dropped further. "So it was hard to keep quiet." He swallowed, tiny lines forming on his brow as the memory flitted through him. He cast his eyes briefly around his opulent bedroom and back to his lover. So different. So, so different.
"This," he reached for Billie's hand, clasping it and threading their fingers together. He nodded again, movement so slight. "Tak."
He looked over towards the bedside table, squinting at the clock but unable to see it clearly for the pillows. The bed felt damp from his sweat. "How long can you stay for?" he asked softly, almost timidly.
All night, Billie wanted to say, but it wasn't true. He needed to go back home, consume the milk and cookies left out for Santa Claus, and be there when the kids woke he and Adie up in the morning. And though he ached to be able to stay, he also wanted to go home.
Just, not quite yet.
He had a better vantage point and read off the clock, smile widening when he looked back down at Lars. "It's just barely late enough for me to legitimately say Merry Christmas." He pressed a kiss to the tip of a snub nose. "I have two or three hours still."
Moments like this were hard, when he knew he would be leaving Lars by himself. Their relationship demanded a great deal of tolerance on both sides, but even more on the Dane's, because Billie had his family full-time - including his wife. And though the joint custody agreement meant that Myles and Layne spent half their nights or more dreaming at their father's, they spent the other half with Skylar.
Billie stayed as often as he could: when Lars didn't have the boys; when his own boys didn't need him. But on the nights he couldn't, he knew that Lars slept in this great big bed alone. He wished sometimes that it could be different, just a vague thought that floated through his head now and again, but in the end he loved Adrienne every bit as much and so he divided his time as he had to. The unpredictable nature of both their careers at least meant that it wasn't so unusual to snatch moments together when they were available - and that they were both past masters at doing it.
Tonight, with what had happened between them, he would have liked to stay. In truth, he would have liked to fall asleep right here, right like this, and then make love to his boyfriend again in the morning. But there were three sets of dark eyes back in Oakland who needed him to come home tonight more than the green ones in front of him needed him here.
He thought about what Lars had said: a surreptitious, painful fumble in the dark. His own first time had been full of laughter. He and Mike had had some idea of what they were doing - enough not to hurt each other too badly - but the bassist had still been all coltish arms and legs back then. It had been light-hearted and young, and free in a way that sex had never really been for Lars until tonight, Billie abruptly realised. Until he had shown his lover what it could be.
His mouth moved softly over full lips. "Do you want to open presents, or just stay right here, maybe sleep a little? I'm good either way."
Lars lifted his head, humming into the light kiss, before the word 'presents' registered and green eyes popped open. "Presents?" he echoed with a grin. He half-heartedly attempted to wriggle out from underneath the other man, arms and legs waving around. "Fuck, why didn't you remind me before, some things are more important-"
Bright giggles and tangled limbs followed, Billie dropping down and hanging onto Lars, to the sound of simultaneously indignant and amused protests. The drummer gave up, going limp in tattooed arms. "Alright, alright, fuck, I give. Besides, I would say that you're the best present I could ever get, if it didn't make me feel a little nauseous." When Billie raised himself up, Lars looked at him with the kind of sentimentality his previous statement had implied, this adoring gaze coupled with a soft smile that he couldn't deny. He raised a hand and brushed fingers through black bangs, just a slight wave in them thanks to the sweat and heat. A warm smile with one corner tilting up a little more than the other in a little smirk at the silliness, stubble just beginning to shade around his jawline and top lip, and unlined hazel eyes looking down with a deeper affection than he could properly fathom. Colour rose in his cheeks again.
Sure, there's Adrienne, and there was Mike, but I feel like neither of them have seen you quite like this. That look in your eyes is for me, and if I could be any more completely fucking in love with you, then that look would be what sealed the deal.
"I wanna just stay right here," he finally answered, hands smoothing down Billie's sides. "I don't even wanna clean up. We can leave the presents 'til later - right now I don't wanna leave this bed, and I don't want you to leave this bed. I wanna curl up next to you and sleep. This is perfect, it honestly is."
He paused, chewing on his lip a little, mischief leaking into his eyes. "Is the present a good present?"
"It's the best fucking present you'll get this year," Billie told him, grinning. Then he undulated his hips against Lars's and amended with a wink, "Well, almost."
He laughed at the eye roll that got him and finally moved off of Lars, stretching to set the alarm clock and retrieving the stray pillowcase, returning the plump forms to their usual place near the headboard - with one of them conspicuously turned over, to both their amusement. Then he lay on his side, head propped on satin, and simply held out his arms.
A tight ache rose in his chest as Lars came to him without hesitation and pulled the covers over their tangled bodies as he tucked in against Billie. This had been hard-won, this full acceptance of his need to touch; this last piece of permission to touch wherever he wanted had taken a long time. And while Billie Joe was a surprisingly patient man in some respects, there had definitely been days when he'd wanted to shake Lars until his teeth rattled and shout that he should know by now that he could trust him. Indeed, only his surety that Lars did trust him - that it wasn't about trust at all - and his instinctive awareness that pushing in this one area would, in fact, end up creating the opposite effect and increasing his lover's nervousness, had kept him silent.
Billie wriggled into a more comfortable position and then he pulled Lars all but on top of him, giggling at his lover's wordless protests. He slotted one thigh in between a parted pair, and reached down to tug Lars so close there was hardly room to breathe, callused hands gliding over rounded flesh. He heard a tiny squeak at the shameless ass grope and ducked his head to kiss his boyfriend.
"Mine, remember?" His tone remained light, teasing; but there was a deeper undercurrent and his fingers tightened the slightest bit in unmistakable possessiveness.
Heat rushed into Lars's face at the grope, but he didn't dare giggle, didn't dare make it seem like he took this lightly or was, heaven forbid, embarrassed by it. He did kind of wish he could stop blushing, but he didn't quite care enough to hide away his face or do anything else about it, as if he could. He knew why he was blushing after all; he'd been struck and stripped down to his core, those shattered pieces of Lars Ulrich still not completely back together and cohesive; the smugness and the sarcasm and the wickedness had yet to really find their way back to him. And it still felt good to cling.
He shifted a tiny bit higher, tucking his head underneath Billie's chin and laying his palm on the chest beneath him.
Mine, remember? In this stripped down state, it made his stomach flip. To feel beyond cherished, to feel protected, to feel like no-one else was allowed to touch him like this.
All that time ago in the ballroom, at that moment when James had walked in on he and Billie bent over that table, Lars had reverted back to the side of himself he'd hoped Billie would never see - the Lars that had belonged to James. Now, there was no Lars that belonged to James. There was a new Lars in his place. The one that was curled as close as possible against the frontman, fingertips rubbing at his tattooed chest, tracing around a so-familiar thundercloud. The one whose body would shiver occasionally, residual tremors ebbing away. The one who'd heard the words jeg elsker dig and felt tears prickle the backs of his eyes. The one who'd felt Billie lie like this against him in a shitty little backstreet motel many, many moons ago…and it hadn't felt so bad. And the one who now pressed a lingering kiss to that tattooed chest, green eyes slipping closed as he sank himself into it completely, and uttered one very simple, very powerful word that just tonight earned its true meaning.
"Yours."
There was the Lars that belonged to Billie.
Billie Joe smiled; a soft, contented expression tinged with awe. He could feel Lars all along his body and he listened as the drummer's breathing slowed into the steady cadence of sleep, overlaid by the mental echo of his last word.
It felt almost like the first time Lars had told him, 'I love you'. Well, not the very first, coming as it had onstage, but later that night, after his own total exposure, when he'd wrapped himself around another wet body in the jacuzzi with the sense that everything was right with his world.
Here, now, that journey felt complete; felt reciprocal. Balanced the way it was meant to be - had to be to truly last. Billie didn't think he'd care to lay odds on which man's road had been more difficult, and it didn't matter anyway because in the end, they'd both been committed enough to discovering the potential of what lay between them to overcome everything they'd needed to.
He remembered dropping a handful of condoms into callused hands in a dingy little motel room and asking silently, Can you take everything, the way you said you were going to earlier? Can you take me? And how Lars had proceeded to do just that, not only that night, but the next time they met, and every day since then. He was strong enough to take whatever Billie threw at him, including the vulnerable bravery he'd displayed tonight in giving over all of his being. Yours, Lars had whispered, and finally it was true.
The quiet simplicity of the moment made his throat catch; his arms tighten around the man sleeping in them. Billie rubbed one stubbling cheek against mussed hair in profound gratitude and closed his eyes.
( to chapter 3)
Don't forget to leave some love for looking_spiffy, too!
Authors: tasyfa and looking_spiffy
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Billie Joe Armstrong/Lars Ulrich
Disclaimer: Purely fictional.
Summary: 'Motherfuckforhelvede I'm gonna do it.' Christmas time, mistletoe and wine - and lube, and barstools, and rice pudding… Billie and Lars are spending their first Christmas together as a couple, time divided between their respective families, and so far it's running surprisingly smoothly. That is, until they find a gift on Lars's doorstep that could push their relationship to a whole new level or derail them completely…
Notes: The final part of the Wayward Saints saga. All previous parts can be found here or here.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Start slow, okay?"
The hesitant little giggles, the strange looks; suddenly it all made sense to Billie as his lover's legs closed around him and for a long moment his brain stopped altogether while he stared at Lars. When he could think again, he sat up - carefully, his hands going to support the solid thighs against his waist, though the feel of them there threatened to derail him again.
He cleared his throat. "Lars, I…" As many times as he'd fantasised about this, or even fucking practised what he might say, he found himself struggling now. "Is it…is this because it's Christmas? Because I don't…it can't be a gesture like that, you know, it can't just be because it's romantic even if it is and," he paused, seeing his boyfriend's eyebrows draw together in a way he knew. Billie sighed impatiently.
"Stop that. Stop fucking formulating a response already and just listen, okay? I just need you to stop thinking and listen to me a minute here, really listen. This is important to me, too." He waited until the high forehead smoothed and green eyes became thoughtful before he continued.
"It isn't about just fucking, you know that. And I have never, ever not backed off when you wanted me to. I know you trust me to do that. But this is different, it's… I want it all. I want to be able to touch and taste and do anything I want, and I need to be able to do that without you saying no. I'll take it as slow as you need me to - hell, I'll come up with some lame reindeer story for my kids if I'm still here in the morning - but I need to know that you won't call a halt."
Lars's expression was the bewildered one now, mixed with a little disappointment and maybe even hurt. Billie tightened the grip on his thighs and tried to explain. Hard enough to do without the bodily instinct screaming through him to shut up already and go for it. So close, his lover was so close and so open but it wasn't quite as simple as his libido wanted to make it.
"Back at the villa, when you-when you asked me to stop, I… Well, I did, and I understood it when you said it hadn't been my mistake. I understand it a lot better now, knowing you a lot better. But that doesn't change the fact that it felt like-like I'd forced myself on you," he stumbled over the words a little, giving a sharp headshake when Lars would have said something. "I know I didn't. I know that. And you know you can trust me by this time, because we wouldn't be here if you didn't. I'm just trying to explain where I'm coming from, you know, why I need to have that total freedom with you. Because if you called a halt again, even as different as the circumstances are, I don't know that I'd be able to try the next time."
Billie slipped his hands along Lars's hips and up, along the ribcage to slide under shoulders as he lowered his body, earnest hazels holding vulnerable green. He bent for a languid kiss and then raised his head, near-vibrating with how tightly he was holding in the need to devour; watching for the reaction when his hips slid forward that last little bit and his naked cock rubbed hard against Lars's ass, his own breath harsh at the feeling of it. "I need you to be sure you can give me everything, Uli. I need you to be fucking sure."
Lars's chest shuddered as he felt Billie rub against him, sparks shooting along his spine and making his skin tingle. It was a base reaction, though; his lover's words had tilted things slightly for him. Though in the times when he'd thought about this moment, he'd never allowed himself to imagine the scenario past his own words or gesture of submission, never dared to inwardly tailor the perfect scene in case something went awry and he would be shattered by it. He'd been smart to do so, because he hadn't expected anything quite like this, not to this degree. For someone who'd just physically opened to their lover in the most intimate way, it did not help to instil confidence in him. As he thought about how to address everything Billie had said, his arms looped around Billie's neck in what was probably a subconscious move to keep him there, to make sure he wouldn't pull away with him feeling so very defenceless. Long lashes veiled green as he looked down at those strong thighs holding him, coming back to Billie's face as he found the words and expressed them quietly.
"I don't want you to doubt me, I don't want you to think that there are any obstacles between us with this now. I-I mean, this is me. This is me opening to you completely in the only way I could think of. I'm sorry that I maybe didn't express myself a little clearer, but I'm nervous and I haven't done this for the first time in a long time." He became aware of his heart thrumming in his chest, and his gaze skittered away briefly, only to return to hazel to ensure his words were made clear.
"I'm glad you brought up the villa. Obviously I'm not taking this lightly by any means, and no, it's definitely not because it's Christmas, even though I think you've guessed how important this holiday is to me. But do you really think, after all that happened, that I would just take the chance that I might be ready just because of the convenience of the season? After how much it fucked with both of us, that I'd be any less than a hundred and ten percent sure the next time?" A touch of frustration leaked into his voice as he continued. "It isn't fucking, I don't want it to be fucking, God. I mean, please, don't think I'm getting corny here, but I want you to make love to me. I-I just," he shook his head. "Billie, I can't think of a better way that I can express that." He didn't consciously realise, but through the impassioned little speech, he was shaking a bit, and only now as he swallowed against a tight throat did he realise how emotional he was getting. This was one of the times, as he touched foreheads with his lover, arms tightening around his neck, where he hoped his feelings were showing clear through vibrant green eyes.
"Please, don't let me have opened to you like this when you're not sure that I'm completely sure," he murmured in a voice just above a whisper. "I-I haven't done this in a while and I just become a completely different person like this, one you've never seen before. Right now the only thing I'm asking of you, the only boundary I'm giving you is to please take it easy with me at first. Everything else is yours. Please." He added something silently in his head, something that he would not be so exploitative as to voice in case it would sound as if he were trying to guilt Billie into this. If you pulled away right now, I don't think I'd be able to handle it.
"Okay. Okay. Shh," Billie soothed, feeling the way Lars trembled under him. He wasn't going to apologise for having asked for reassurance - he'd made interpretive mistakes before, big ones, and for all that he trusted his instincts this was too significant to wing it. He let himself relax, his body all but melting over his lover's, covering him securely and pressing a light kiss to full lips before he spoke. One hand cupped a Danish cheekbone, thumb stroking the crinkled skin at the corner of a green eye.
"You say so much without words and I…sometimes I need to check that what I'm hearing is really what you're saying. Sometimes I need the words, Uli." He claimed another kiss, and another, the rhythm unhurried, full of gentle heat.
I haven't done this for the first time in a long time. Only now, with Lars having wholly opened himself, did the true sense of that penetrate. Billie knew that the last time his lover had bottomed had been almost a year ago. Not that long as time was usually measured. It was difficult to think of someone he'd been sleeping with all this time as virginal. Because Lars was, in fact, a very experienced lover - but almost entirely with women. For men, there had only been James. And while Billie had obviously known that, and known when that relationship had started, it hit him deeper now that his lover's last first time with a man had happened before Billie had even started high school.
Tranquillity settled over him as his focus shifted, that burning need transmuting to a desire to please, to make this an experience that his boyfriend would be eager to repeat. Take it easy on me, Lars had asked, and Billie would.
He continued the kisses with no particular goal except to enjoy the taste and feel of Lars's mouth, and to give the drummer the chance to centre himself again. At length Billie broke away, nuzzling the smooth-shaven jaw until Lars turned his head slightly and he could reach that pierced ear with his mouth and trace its shell with the tip of his tongue. A small noise came from Lars and Billie grinned; it was clearly audible when he murmured, "You taste like cinnamon still. I like it. I like this, and I want you. Jeg elsker dig."
The only other phrase he'd learned in Danish. It felt like the time and place to say it, to reassure Lars as fully as he could that he wasn't going anywhere, but this time he didn't pause to gauge his lover's reaction. He simply recaptured that sweet mouth, smile lingering at the fervent, speechless response to what were three little words in both languages. I love you.
Lars almost choked on his breath when Billie bent for another kiss, eyes opening and going wide. Unable to speak for the lips covering and moving against his, he unlooped his arms from around Billie's neck and slid callused hands around his waist, up to his shoulder blades, nails biting into the skin just a little. The physical shock of those three words coursed through him like a wave, making the hair rise on his arms and his chest ache in a wonderful way, and after a few moments he was returning the kiss with intensity. Even when Billie broke off the kiss and seemed prepared to move his mouth's attention elsewhere, Lars made a noise of something akin to annoyance and cupped the side of the younger man's head, bringing their lips back together. Fuck no, you can't say that to me and think you're getting away that easily. When the kiss finally did end, they were both breathless, and Lars wore a disbelieving smile. His eyes shone. "Jesus, Bill, you tryin' to make me cry or something?" He raised his head for two, three little kisses before continuing, "I'd almost say it was fuckin' underhanded, if I didn't appreciate it so much."
He laughed softly in the face of Billie's answering grin, rubbing his foot along his lover's thigh. "Jeg elsker dig." He licked at his top lip, nodding. "Jeg elsker dig."
His nerves were settling. They weren't silent by any means, and they wouldn't be, not this first time. But Billie's words, his touch, his kisses soothed him, made him feel secure and needed, and…
I want you.
It may have been surprising, but those words held an importance to Lars all their own. It wasn't enough to be needed, he wanted to be wanted, too, needed Billie to want him in this way, or else there would be no point in this at all. As much as he knew it already, right then it gave him an extra shot of confidence to hear it aloud. I want you to want me, huh?
His smile faded a little, growing serious. He smoothed his hands over Billie's body, following curves and lines. He raised his head again, flicking the tip of his tongue along his lover's bottom lip, heat shimmering in his eyes. "You taste like you. I like that a lot, min skat," he murmured, voice low. Following his words with a slow, full kiss, Lars lifted his hips to rub against Billie's cock, giving a faint whine to the gentle mouth on his.
Billie swallowed that whine, emitting a low moan himself at the brazen friction. He shifted slightly, feeling his cock slide fully into the groove between Lars's ass cheeks, and he began to rock his hips against his lover in a lazy rhythm without breaking the kiss. One hand remained anchored in curling brown hair; the other caressed bare skin in long strokes.
The staccato whines and moans coming from Lars spiralled through him. Billie was grateful that he'd thought to learn those few words when he'd gone looking for a translation to etch onto the platinum dog tag; grateful he'd practised how to say them and thrilled at their impact. The small bit of metal nestled warm between their bodies now and he lifted just enough to slip his hand in there and tug on it, remembering the Dane's words when he'd first shown it to Billie. I want people to know that I belong to someone.
"Mine," he whispered against a swollen mouth. Billie reached above them for the pillows, raising up so he could stack them on the bed beside them, stripping the case from the bottom one. Satin-on-satin was too slippery for this; he needed the pillows to stay put, not shoot off the bed when pressed upon.
He looked down at Lars, marvelling at his continued openness - at the emotion shining so clearly in those green eyes. He could see why his lover might say he became a different person, and it was true that Billie had never seen him quite like this, but it wasn't so very different after all. It was, simply, more, and he sensed that as they continued, more would become all until the drummer had exposed his inner self utterly.
The same way Billie did for him.
Hazels shone warm when he sat all the way up and extended a hand to Lars, bending to kiss the fingers placed in his. "I want you to kneel in front of the pillows. Can you do that for me?"
"Kneel?" Lars echoed somewhat vacantly, discombobulated by the lavish attention, blinking and looking to the pile beside him. His free hand came up to hang onto his dog tag as he sat up, as habit would have him do every so often, thumb passing over the engraving before moving up the bed to push himself into a kneeling position. This brought his face close to Billie's, and he nuzzled at his lover's jawline, squeezing the hand he held.
He didn't know exactly why Billie needed him in front of the pillows; perhaps his nerves were throwing him off, but at no point did his mind think of questioning it. So, he placed a kiss at a pulse point on Billie's throat and shifted himself around, setting his knees up parallel to the length of the stack and smoothing his palms out over the silky material. For some bizarre reason the position and the pillows reminded him of church, of pews and kneeling to pray. A spark went off in his eyes as he raised them to look at the younger man. You want me to confess my sins, Billie Joe? In the state of mind he was in he couldn't help but blush, colour quite obviously staining his cheeks even in the dull light.
He swallowed and tugged on the dog tag again, the position he was in adding another degree of vulnerability to the amount he already felt. It felt good, though; before it might have felt too much, might have made him too self-conscious, might have brought an early end to anything they may have planned. Right now, trust outweighed every bit of stage fright he might have had, and the nervousness only added to the adrenalin and excitement. Glancing down at the pillows, his gaze caught the thundercloud on Billie's chest before coming back to those hazels that dually set off a dull burn in his stomach and blanketed him with secure warmth. He licked his lips.
"Like this?"
"Yeah. Yeah, just like that." Heated approval lit Billie's eyes as he took in the sight and he added, "Perfect."
His tone made it clear that he meant the man more than the position and Lars's colour deepened further, delighting Billie. This was the part of Lars that he saw in a different incarnation almost every day - the not-so-hidden sweetness that made him do things like put ribbons on bottles of champagne. Or buy a programmable coffeemaker so that Billie could take hot coffee with him on those mornings when he needed to leave far too early after staying the night. Little things; there were always little things with his boyfriend. But this one, here, this was big.
Unable to help himself, Billie moved closer and brought the drummer's mouth to his in a hard kiss, some of his self-restraint slipping at the trust Lars was showing him. He heard a loud moan as arms came up around him and he answered it with a growl.
Soon enough he pulled away, a smirk appearing at how disoriented Lars seemed. Billie took full advantage of that and shifted position, sliding behind his lover, knees slipping between another pair and spreading them wider.
The drummer stiffened a little and Billie braced his feet on the mattress, slipping palms up a furred chest to curl over tensed shoulders and encourage Lars backwards. "Lean on me, Uli. Slow, remember? We're taking it slow. I just want to touch you right now."
He dropped several light kisses along the bare shoulder and neck, holding his boyfriend until he began to relax back into him. Billie remembered vividly how he had found his own ability to let go of everything at last in a position much like this: with his lover's solid body behind him, offering tangible, real support. He hoped that the Dane would find it similarly liberating as tattooed hands began to roam.
Lars leaned back obediently, head coming down to rest on his lover's shoulder as his eyes slipped closed, concentrating on the soothing, almost methodical progress of familiar hands. He was sure Billie could feel the hard thump-thump-thump of his heart each time his palm smoothed over the left side of his chest, which only made it beat harder as if to make sure its presence was known. Those kisses delicately scattered over his nearby skin felt so good, and when they stopped he sought to reciprocate, head rocking to the side as he planted a wet kiss just beneath Billie's earlobe, then another on the lobe itself, drizzling a few where he could reach before resting his nose against his lover's neck.
Billie's thumb grazed over his pierced nipple, drawing a high sound from his throat; the motion was repeated, and Lars whined. Sensation danced over bare flesh where hands briefly were, and he gave a small smile though Billie wouldn't be able to see it. "Feels good," he elaborated in a hushed voice. One of his hands came up to rest over Billie's as it moved over him, before raising further to clasp the back of the frontman's neck, stretching his body, opening it further.
Fingertips followed the line between his thigh and stomach, delicate strokes flitting past dark curls of hair and making his cock twitch. It might not gain the attention it so requested any time soon, but that was okay. He pressed his body back, fitting himself tight against his lover and humming as he relaxed. This is okay.
His eyes only opened when one of Billie's wayward hands stopped at his stomach and he was gently encouraged to bend, the younger man staying flush with him until his free hand met the bed. Briefly, his heart skittered in its rhythm, but the hands still on him and Billie's calm words - we're taking it slow - kept him settled. Enough for him to arch and moan, smirking at the answering groan. "Feels really fucking good."
"Glad to hear it." Billie's voice had grown husky, desire infusing it. "You're fucking incredible, Uli."
He followed the statement with the light scrape of teeth across the nape of his lover's neck as his hands checked their position. His aim had been a little off and Billie tugged the pillows tight against Lars's thighs, hearing his breath hitch as he relaxed into them a bit.
Billie chuckled, smoothing his hands along his lover's sides. "There are a couple of advantages to this. One, I won't have to listen to you bitch tomorrow about how sore your back is." He grinned at the splutter that produced, grin widening when it transformed into a moan as his hand closed around Lars's erection and guided it to lay pinned between the drummer's abdomen and the soft fabric. He pressed his hips forward, rocking against Lars, and the high sound that accompanied the slide of flesh against satin hit him in the gut exactly right. The teasing aspect of his speech disappeared. "And that's the other reason."
Delicately, he stroked the erection in his hand, featherlight touches of distraction as he bent to bestow wet kisses to a naked back, his tongue swirling along the knobbly vertebrae.
"There's something I've always wanted to say to you, Lars." Billie punctuated his words with continuing kisses, trailing farther down until he needed to untangle his lower body. He shifted back, keeping up the light strokes with one hand while the other supported him as his mouth travelled lower. "You don't get to come 'til I tell you."
He let go when he reached his target, sliding his hand across one bare hip to meet the other and spread Lars open to take a long lick, from the base of his balls, over his hole, and right up to where his flesh parted. Every inch of skin that concealed erectile tissue; that would grow unbearably sensitive with stimulation as blood rushed into it; Billie Joe covered it all with a film of saliva as he tasted his lover greedily, feeling a shudder run through Lars and hearing raw moans that had their answer in the ache in his own cock.
New. New, new, new, the word flashed in Lars's head over and over like a demented neon sign when he abruptly realised exactly what Billie was planning. Brand fucking new. Eyes wide open, lustrous green stared down at the tattooed fingers - all he could see of Billie at that angle - and the one-two punch of the younger man's extremely familiar instruction and the subsequent flex and drag of his tongue had him vocalising loudly.
Brand fucking new. Age meant nothing without experience, and though Lars was about to be forty-three years young, he had never experienced this before. The only time he'd even approached the idea was one night with Kirk a decade ago, but they'd both been far too wasted at the time to do anything that wasn't really fucking easy. For no particular reason, it never got brought up again. Over the months in which he and Billie had been together, he'd repeatedly indulged in the most intimate tastes of his lover, but the roles had obviously never been reversed.
The surprise and potential fear of the new experience were completely overshadowed by oh my God how fucking incredible it felt. And this was just the start.
His palms slid across satin as he sank to his elbows, ass raised high and legs spreading a little wider. His eyes fluttered closed and he rested his forehead on the mattress below. A tremor shook his body as he managed to speak. "Th-this is payback, right? All the times…" Unable to complete the thought let alone the sentence, Lars heaved a deep breath and released it with the only words he could manage. "Ohh fuck, Billie."
The rush as Lars opened to him threatened to dissolve Billie's control and he forced himself to focus on the drummer's body, on finding a rhythm with his licks that had hips instinctively pushing back at him, as much as the restricted position allowed. His thumb rubbed along the perineum as he pulled off long enough to speak. The utter want he felt sounded loud and clear in his roughened tone.
"Payback? Maybe a little." He nuzzled the skin over the tailbone, pressing a light kiss to it. "Mostly it's about your pleasure, though. I want," he paused to lick, interspersing his remaining words with passes of a pointed tongue. "I want to make you feel amazing."
His fingers caressed the rest of his lover's sensitive skin as he brought his face in close, tongue extended to lick circles around Lars's opening and then sliding inside - slow, so slow at first, but picking up speed soon enough as the choked sounds flying from Lars grew more urgent. Billie reached beneath the pillows to retrieve the tube of lubricant and coated his fingers. When he withdrew to press kisses higher up, the replacement with a single finger went smooth and fast, and his other hand closed softly around Lars's balls, fondling even as his mouth continued to work at whatever skin was available, skating as close as possible to where his knuckle disappeared and reappeared in a regular timestamp to the accompaniment of whines and gasps.
Fuck, I've never…I didn't know this, Lars thought in fragments as that teasing tongue fucked into him, and he would have felt a huge sense of loss on its withdrawal had it not been for its quick replacement with a slicked finger. All he knew right then was that one night he wanted to come on the stimulation of Billie's tongue alone, and soon. This avenue was one he would insist on exploring in the very near future, because those few minutes were perhaps some of the best - forgiving the pun - tasters he could have hoped for. Briefly he wondered if his tongue ever felt that good. Not like he had the capacity to ask right then, so he'd save it for another time.
Finger in my ass, his dizzy mind then offered, spine arching and hips bucking shallowly into the satin wrapped pillows beneath him. All the friction combined caused a long, low moan to be drawn from his parted lips, broken when his body was shaken with a light tremor. Then a second finger came, pushing in so very slowly, and it was only then when he really became aware of himself stretching around those digits, and his stomach did a flip, a thrill of alarm shooting up his spine. As fleeting as the feeling had been, Lars opened his eyes and craned his neck, a barely there whimper escaping him, needing to see his lover right there behind him. After all, the last time this occurred, part of the reason it had gone so horribly wrong was that Lars had expected to see James. He didn't expect it anymore, but it was a niggling little tweak of paranoia that he guessed would not be silenced, not on this occasion. The sight of Billie instilled more security and confidence in him than he could adequately explain.
He strained to see over his shoulder, and there was that mop of black hair, full lips skating over his skin and hazel eyes that almost glowed with a heat all their own. He gave a wobbly smile and let his head drop back down, curling his fingers into the sheets and pushing back against those two fingers with a soft whine.
Lars's flash of alarm hadn't gone unnoticed, and Billie straightened, shuffling closer until his hand pressed against his own abdomen. He reached down, breath expelling in a harsh gust as he grasped his erection and nestled it beside Lars's, and then his hips began to rock, pushing his fingers into his lover and rubbing their cocks together as he bent over the sweat-gleaming back and nuzzled a shoulder blade.
He didn't have much experience at talking dirty, but he figured that one way to keep Lars grounded in the here and now would be to speak, so he gave it a try. His voice came out in a low growl as the satin friction worked on his libido, too.
"You liked that, huh? Feeling my tongue inside you, fucking you. Me touching you so fucking intimately. I'll do it to you again. Maybe next time I'll jerk you off, too, and taste your orgasm from the inside."
A deep groan ripped from his throat as his boyfriend pushed back sharply and he eased in another finger, spreading them slightly as his hand continued to work, continued to penetrate, his hips still directing the thrusts. He wanted Lars good and stretched - good and ready, and soon, because his own body was beginning to demand some attention, too.
Billie Joe sank his teeth into his lover's shoulder, not breaking the skin but deep enough to bruise, to mark, and then made his desires known in a guttural rasp.
"I want you. Fuck, I want you so goddamned much." Another bite; he sucked at the skin furiously in an effort to calm himself down, even while he didn't stop anything else - didn't cut himself a break, either. "Not like this. I want you on your back, so I can see those beautiful eyes and kiss you," he panted, his supporting hand reaching up and sliding into his lover's hair to massage the scalp, insistent and encouraging both. "Can you take me?"
Lars did reply, but the words were nonsensical, syllables strung together and sludgy and probably not in the language he intended. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded helplessly into the mattress, everything Billie had said rolling around in his head and trying to find the right order - liked that, taste, jerk you off, fuck, beautiful, want you… "Yeeaahh…yes, yeahyeah…" The repeated word he managed to expel sounded wet and needy, thin and high, the end melting into a groan. He trembled again, skin burning where Billie's teeth had been, head pushing back against the hand there, nuzzling almost. A stream of words finally came.
"Nnnn…need t'see…need you, need to see you, Bill, I wanna, please…"
Another tremor shook him, and he pushed back hard against the three fingers inside him, hard enough for a jolt of pain to shock through him, a cry exploding from him followed by a hiss. He didn't care that it hurt; no, he liked that it hurt - it was almost a year since he'd done this, and just once he wanted, needed to really feel it. A pause, and he undulated his body, sensation rippling through him with a desperate moan. Needing a sweeter touch, one shaking hand prised fingers away from the sheets and came up to grasp the one at his head.
"Oh fuck, Billie, please." And now he was begging, really begging, voice hushed and hopeful and like no sound he'd ever made with Billie before. "Please, please, fuck, feels good, I need, please, yeah…"
When Billie began to withdraw those torturous fingers, the words struck him suddenly.
This is it. This is it.
Working on pure instinct and adrenalin, Billie pulled back, tipping the drummer over as he swept the pillows away with one impatient hand, grabbing the tube from underneath them and applying a generous - probably too generous - amount to his cock as Lars settled flat.
Green eyes shone up at him, naked and needy, with those nerves clearly visible again, there and throughout his body as another shiver trembled through Lars. Billie Joe dropped down, covering him and latching on to the mouth that had uttered such sweet music. He kissed aggressively, tongue plunging into willing warmth in a stark preview, then he landed several hard kisses on the smooth jawline, forcing Lars to turn his head so that Billie could suck on his pierced ear. It was a familiar action, a familiar taste; and he began to babble, nonsense pouring out of him that he hoped was comforting and not just stupid.
"I'm here. I'm right here and I've got you; it's okay. I love you."
Another demanding kiss, his body trembling slightly at everything Lars's surrender had stirred up. He repeated, "I love you," and then his mouth was gone as he rose, lifting his lover's hips. He couldn't wait; didn't dare. Waiting meant giving Lars the chance to start thinking, and Billie's every instinct told him that would derail it all.
He pushed inside, slow and steady, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his jaw clenched at the feeling of it - the physical shock of all that heat and pressure, and the incredulousness that he was feeling this at last. That Lars had been ready; that he hadn't held anything back - nothing, he'd yielded it all - and the knowledge made Billie's chest tighten as he bent down, seated fully inside his boyfriend, and established a rhythm: measured, shallow thrusts, as gentle as he could manage right now.
Abrupt movement, and Lars was flat on his back and kind of startled, clear green struck by fierce hazel with the force of a punch. It didn't scare him, none of this did; he wanted it, needed it too much to be scared. He didn't doubt himself or his lover, either, because while that ever-present nervousness made his body shake, trust ensured his mind was steady. The word wait had swelled in his throat when Billie stole kiss after hard kiss from him, making it tight, but it never emerged. He knew that if it all became too much, Billie would be able to soothe him, knew it in his gut that the younger man would not let suffocating anxiousness steal the Dane away from him, not now, and he was inexpressibly grateful for that.
He let loose a soft gasp at the press of Billie's cock against his pucker, and the shockwave washed over him, goose bumps rising over his whole body. Then pushing, pushing, and Billie felt huge and his eyes were wide as his head pushed back hard into the mattress and he couldn't help but whimper and oh God oh fuck this is happening oh- there. Billie's hips rested against his ass in a contrasting moment of calm after the flurry of activity, and Lars's breaths were coming quick and shallow now, staring up at Billie as he folded down over him, holding onto the anchor of those eyes as his body adjusted to the feeling of his lover inside him. THUMP-THUMP-THUMP went his heart, really fucking loud - Hear how loud my heart's beating for you, Billie? - and his chest ached at it all.
It's okay. It's more than okay. This is…
He looped his arms around Billie's neck, ankles hooking together as legs wrapped around a lithe waist in an echo of earlier. Colour rose in his cheeks again, and though words wouldn't come, he gave a small smile.
You've got me.
Pleasure came rushing through him again when Billie began to rock into him, and the hands at rounded shoulders tightened, nails setting into pale skin. All he could do now was pant out a thankful moan for each of Billie's thrusts and hang on, letting his lover push him higher.
That blushing smile might have been the most precious expression Billie had ever seen on his boyfriend's face. Even through the arousal singing through him - the pleasure building in his belly, spiralling higher with every minute, every thrust - he had the urge to shelter, to cherish and protect as well as ravage, and a gut-level understanding rose out of the realisation that this was what Lars felt when Billie let go - this was exactly what his lover felt. It choked his breath and made his heart stutter.
He stole a kiss, murmuring into the stream of moans, "Fucking gorgeous, so sexy. Love you so much."
Billie straightened, feeling callused fingers scrape down his back as he drew upright, heated gaze locked with Lars's. His hand, already slippery, reached between them and closed around his lover's erection, beginning to stroke in a slow, counterpoint rhythm. A smirk graced his mouth at the resulting cry, hazels holding so much fire as he drove Lars closer and closer to the edge.
The Dane's tongue flickered out, darting over drying, reddened lips as he arched into Billie's hand. He hadn't quite caught all of what the other man had said, what with him being so very vocal and all, but the kiss and the warmth in hazel eyes spoke more than enough volumes for now. They sent a ripple of heat up his spine, making him shiver in an entirely different way than before. The words may have arrived at his ears blotted out by his own moans, but he knew he was loved.
"Billie, Billie, fuck, Billie…Billie," and he didn't want anything in particular but to feel that name on his tongue, expelled in delicious rhythm with his lover's thrusts and strokes and the movement of his own hips, rocking between the dual stimulation. "Billie, oh fuck, fuck, Billie…ah…" The sound rose with every passing second until it became reedy and desperate, his body wracked with tremors and his spine remaining in its arched state. His moans were almost sobs now; he was too overwhelmed by the physical sensations to allow his mind to consider the deeper emotional ones, and were he more coherent he would have been glad of it - if tears had begun streaking his face, it might have been a little too much for him in this state.
He writhed, arms sweeping out over the satin covers and eventually managing to push himself up and wrap an arm around Billie's head. He brought their foreheads together and stole a hard kiss of his own, fucking himself onto Billie's cock until he was rewarded with a loud moan. "Oh fuck me, I love you," he groaned in reply, the words leaving him in a rush, and he licked at a full bottom lip before lying back, eyes shining. "Please," he finally breathed, looking imploringly up into glowing hazel. The fire swirling in the pit of his stomach matched that glow, his balls beginning to draw tight. "Please, min skat."
Billie couldn't hold out against the exquisite pleading or the way Lars's hips began to crash against his. He let his reins slip, knowing that he didn't need to be as careful as he would were Lars truly a virgin; the barrier had been in his mind and heart, not his body, and experience told him that by this time, any and all sensation would be welcome, so long as it was more.
His speed increased dramatically as he stopped holding back and the cry that tore from Lars's throat when Billie matched that rhythm with his hand, the high volume shimmering in the air, did him in. Billie shuddered violently in the grip of his orgasm, hips stuttering before he steadied and thrust right through it, growling deep in his throat.
"Now. Come for me now."
He bent closer, focus intent on his lover's contorted expression even as his mind blew apart with his release, and then closer yet, teeth gripping the exposed throat with a husky, distorted chorus emerging as he felt warm liquid cascade over his hand. "Mine."
Way too fucking much, was Lars's final delighted thought as he came, Billie multiplying everything he was doing by ten, a hundred, and the word now had scarcely left his lips when the drummer spilled himself into a tattooed hand. And Billie was coming too, coming inside him, and oh fuck it felt so good, so, so good. Adding to that the teeth at his throat, and Lars was lost to the world for a few blissful moments, body shaking to pieces and throat releasing a desperate wail.
His awareness eventually picked up on his hips still bucking, utterly wrung out but still wanting more. He opened dazed green eyes to see Billie still there, still above him, still looking down on him. His mind couldn't process much else, so for a few moments, silent but for their gasped breaths, all he did was stare, wide-eyed. Finally his throat grew tight and his chest began to hurt, emotion suddenly catching up with him, and he reached out for his lover, needing to crush himself against that lean body. His arms wrapped tight around Billie's back, pulling him down until he could bury his face in the crook of the younger man's neck, pressing closed eyes against sweat-slicked, hot skin.
He breathed. That was all he could do. Cling to Billie - that's what it was, he wouldn't argue with it, he was clinging to Billie for dear life - let his body tremble uncontrollably and breathe. He felt kind of broken, but in a good way, in the right way - felt shattered into a thousand pieces, and right now only a few had come together to work, to make the Lars Billie was more familiar with. He hoped dimly that Billie didn't mind the Lars that was latched onto him right then; hoped that he liked the Lars that had emerged tonight. Small, innocent little hopes like that were all he could muster.
He held onto Billie, his anchor, completely unable to speak, and just breathed.
Billie had seen the dawn rush of emotion in green eyes, clearing out the haze, so he wasn't totally caught off guard when he was yanked down into a fierce embrace. Breathing heavily yet, he let himself relax into the trembling body beneath him, supporting his weight on knees and elbows while one hand went to sweat-plastered brown hair and he combed his fingers through the tangles. Soothing.
Amidst the welter of his own feelings was the relief that he hadn't paused - had simply forged ahead with the permission he'd been given. For Lars to have had this tidal wave of awareness of his vulnerability hit him mid-lovemaking would have been disastrous. Now, though, it was okay. He'd already made it past the hardest part; he just needed some time to deal with it. Billie understood that.
He rubbed his cheek against the top of the Dane's head with a soft smile, remaining silent for the moment. Continuing to listen to their breathing grow more regular - his before Lars's, but it began to even out, too. Continuing to pet damp, curling hair. Every so often Billie Joe turned his face slightly and dropped a swift kiss against his lover's head, content to wait for him to relax.
He felt good. Physically, of course, though it did feel kinda weird that his ass had gone untouched - normally he'd be pleasantly sore about this time. In a way it underscored the magnitude of what had happened. And for all that it had been a total surprise and he'd needed to question Lars's readiness at the beginning, Billie thought the whole thing had gone pretty fucking well. Much better than he'd envisioned, truly; but despite his glimpses of this side of his lover, he could not have known just how much of himself Lars would throw into the experience. Maybe he should have. He didn't bother berating himself for not being imaginative enough to extrapolate that. Instead, he was grateful to have been able to handle it and humbled by the trust Lars had placed in him.
When the drummer was breathing easy, if still clutching on tight, Billie finally spoke, affection shading his voice. "You're beautiful, Uli."
Lars's hands tightened on Billie's shoulders and he made a choked sound. Don't do that, don't say that, a small voice said in his head. Tryin' to make me cry again, right? said another, but neither emerged from his parted lips. He did manage to say something, though. "Fuck," he breathed to Billie's collarbone, body still trembling. "Fuck," more hoarse this time.
Something deeper, something better, something more. Motherfuckforhelvede I did it. We did it.
Feels good.
He felt so good. Overwhelmed and emotional as fuck, but the weight of this was gone from his shoulders and it was so much more than he'd dared to hope for. The last piece of territory James had held in Lars had been blasted away - this little Uli was another man's responsibility now. Billie had cherished him, pushed him when he'd needed to be pushed and kept his fears at bay, and the result was…well, the result was this quivering, limpet-like body formerly known as Lars Ulrich. He felt sore, though not too much, and there was that persistent ache in his chest, but…he felt so good.
His arms relaxed, though he was still unwilling to release his lover in case he might vanish or something absurd like that.
"I love you," and it was hushed and it went kinda squelchy at the end and he couldn't manage much else, but he'd said it and he didn't think he'd ever meant it as much as he did then. He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Billie's throat. "Jeg elsker dig, oh fuck, so much."
After a moment, his hands slid to either side of Billie's neck, and he brought his mouth to his lover's in a searingly tender kiss.
Billie rested his forehead against Lars's when they broke for air, an irrepressible smile stealing across his features. He nudged the drummer's nose with his own. "I'm gonna take a page from somebody's smug book and say that you're gonna wanna do that again sometime. And so am I." His eyes sparkled as he shifted enough to pull out, chuckling at the grimace that passed over Lars's face. "Though I bet there were some parts you didn't miss at all."
He bent for another kiss, feeling as though he'd done most of his communicating tonight with his mouth, and not in words despite having seemingly picked up a touch of Lars's habit of babbling. But right now something burned in him at the wet rasp of Danish that he understood, and he drew back enough to be able to focus clearly on beloved green eyes.
"Mine," Billie whispered, and the raw edge in his voice coupled with the bright shine of hazels to betray more of what this had meant to him than he would ever say. He wasn't in James's shadow anymore. "All mine."
Lars nodded, a hard thump of concurrence going off in his chest like a kick drum, and he smiled at what lay in his lover's eyes. In his befuddled, nerve-wracked state, he had to admit that he hadn't much considered what Billie might have been going through, but it appeared in the gleam in that gaze that the emotion of this night had gotten to him, too; not quite in the same way as the drummer, whose demons had been lurking with whispers of the past and visions of sharp blue eyes that could break him. The look on Billie's face read a hundred things. I'm here. I've always been here. Those demons mean nothing and I mean everything, and James is gone. I've always been here and now you know that. Nothing to be afraid of. I love you. Mine.
The older man was almost back down to Earth now, hands skating idly over Billie's body and refamiliarising himself with the man who had an unprecedented hold on his heart. His eyes went to the tattoo, his tattoo, and he rubbed his palm over it in contemplative silence. Then, quietly and calmly, he told Billie something he'd never spoken of before to anyone.
"The first time - my first time, it was pretty cold. We were in New York in a kind of warehouse in a shitty part of town, and all we had to sleep on was sleeping bags and whatever we could find, cardboard, foam, whatever. We had to be so quiet, so fuckin' quiet, because Mustaine was passed out like five feet away, and if we'd have moved, the cardboard woulda slid along the concrete and woke him up. I felt like if I'd have moved anyway, it'd go, it'd be gone, it wouldn't have happened." He paused. "It-it hurt, we didn't really know what we were doing, so," his voice dropped further. "So it was hard to keep quiet." He swallowed, tiny lines forming on his brow as the memory flitted through him. He cast his eyes briefly around his opulent bedroom and back to his lover. So different. So, so different.
"This," he reached for Billie's hand, clasping it and threading their fingers together. He nodded again, movement so slight. "Tak."
He looked over towards the bedside table, squinting at the clock but unable to see it clearly for the pillows. The bed felt damp from his sweat. "How long can you stay for?" he asked softly, almost timidly.
All night, Billie wanted to say, but it wasn't true. He needed to go back home, consume the milk and cookies left out for Santa Claus, and be there when the kids woke he and Adie up in the morning. And though he ached to be able to stay, he also wanted to go home.
Just, not quite yet.
He had a better vantage point and read off the clock, smile widening when he looked back down at Lars. "It's just barely late enough for me to legitimately say Merry Christmas." He pressed a kiss to the tip of a snub nose. "I have two or three hours still."
Moments like this were hard, when he knew he would be leaving Lars by himself. Their relationship demanded a great deal of tolerance on both sides, but even more on the Dane's, because Billie had his family full-time - including his wife. And though the joint custody agreement meant that Myles and Layne spent half their nights or more dreaming at their father's, they spent the other half with Skylar.
Billie stayed as often as he could: when Lars didn't have the boys; when his own boys didn't need him. But on the nights he couldn't, he knew that Lars slept in this great big bed alone. He wished sometimes that it could be different, just a vague thought that floated through his head now and again, but in the end he loved Adrienne every bit as much and so he divided his time as he had to. The unpredictable nature of both their careers at least meant that it wasn't so unusual to snatch moments together when they were available - and that they were both past masters at doing it.
Tonight, with what had happened between them, he would have liked to stay. In truth, he would have liked to fall asleep right here, right like this, and then make love to his boyfriend again in the morning. But there were three sets of dark eyes back in Oakland who needed him to come home tonight more than the green ones in front of him needed him here.
He thought about what Lars had said: a surreptitious, painful fumble in the dark. His own first time had been full of laughter. He and Mike had had some idea of what they were doing - enough not to hurt each other too badly - but the bassist had still been all coltish arms and legs back then. It had been light-hearted and young, and free in a way that sex had never really been for Lars until tonight, Billie abruptly realised. Until he had shown his lover what it could be.
His mouth moved softly over full lips. "Do you want to open presents, or just stay right here, maybe sleep a little? I'm good either way."
Lars lifted his head, humming into the light kiss, before the word 'presents' registered and green eyes popped open. "Presents?" he echoed with a grin. He half-heartedly attempted to wriggle out from underneath the other man, arms and legs waving around. "Fuck, why didn't you remind me before, some things are more important-"
Bright giggles and tangled limbs followed, Billie dropping down and hanging onto Lars, to the sound of simultaneously indignant and amused protests. The drummer gave up, going limp in tattooed arms. "Alright, alright, fuck, I give. Besides, I would say that you're the best present I could ever get, if it didn't make me feel a little nauseous." When Billie raised himself up, Lars looked at him with the kind of sentimentality his previous statement had implied, this adoring gaze coupled with a soft smile that he couldn't deny. He raised a hand and brushed fingers through black bangs, just a slight wave in them thanks to the sweat and heat. A warm smile with one corner tilting up a little more than the other in a little smirk at the silliness, stubble just beginning to shade around his jawline and top lip, and unlined hazel eyes looking down with a deeper affection than he could properly fathom. Colour rose in his cheeks again.
Sure, there's Adrienne, and there was Mike, but I feel like neither of them have seen you quite like this. That look in your eyes is for me, and if I could be any more completely fucking in love with you, then that look would be what sealed the deal.
"I wanna just stay right here," he finally answered, hands smoothing down Billie's sides. "I don't even wanna clean up. We can leave the presents 'til later - right now I don't wanna leave this bed, and I don't want you to leave this bed. I wanna curl up next to you and sleep. This is perfect, it honestly is."
He paused, chewing on his lip a little, mischief leaking into his eyes. "Is the present a good present?"
"It's the best fucking present you'll get this year," Billie told him, grinning. Then he undulated his hips against Lars's and amended with a wink, "Well, almost."
He laughed at the eye roll that got him and finally moved off of Lars, stretching to set the alarm clock and retrieving the stray pillowcase, returning the plump forms to their usual place near the headboard - with one of them conspicuously turned over, to both their amusement. Then he lay on his side, head propped on satin, and simply held out his arms.
A tight ache rose in his chest as Lars came to him without hesitation and pulled the covers over their tangled bodies as he tucked in against Billie. This had been hard-won, this full acceptance of his need to touch; this last piece of permission to touch wherever he wanted had taken a long time. And while Billie Joe was a surprisingly patient man in some respects, there had definitely been days when he'd wanted to shake Lars until his teeth rattled and shout that he should know by now that he could trust him. Indeed, only his surety that Lars did trust him - that it wasn't about trust at all - and his instinctive awareness that pushing in this one area would, in fact, end up creating the opposite effect and increasing his lover's nervousness, had kept him silent.
Billie wriggled into a more comfortable position and then he pulled Lars all but on top of him, giggling at his lover's wordless protests. He slotted one thigh in between a parted pair, and reached down to tug Lars so close there was hardly room to breathe, callused hands gliding over rounded flesh. He heard a tiny squeak at the shameless ass grope and ducked his head to kiss his boyfriend.
"Mine, remember?" His tone remained light, teasing; but there was a deeper undercurrent and his fingers tightened the slightest bit in unmistakable possessiveness.
Heat rushed into Lars's face at the grope, but he didn't dare giggle, didn't dare make it seem like he took this lightly or was, heaven forbid, embarrassed by it. He did kind of wish he could stop blushing, but he didn't quite care enough to hide away his face or do anything else about it, as if he could. He knew why he was blushing after all; he'd been struck and stripped down to his core, those shattered pieces of Lars Ulrich still not completely back together and cohesive; the smugness and the sarcasm and the wickedness had yet to really find their way back to him. And it still felt good to cling.
He shifted a tiny bit higher, tucking his head underneath Billie's chin and laying his palm on the chest beneath him.
Mine, remember? In this stripped down state, it made his stomach flip. To feel beyond cherished, to feel protected, to feel like no-one else was allowed to touch him like this.
All that time ago in the ballroom, at that moment when James had walked in on he and Billie bent over that table, Lars had reverted back to the side of himself he'd hoped Billie would never see - the Lars that had belonged to James. Now, there was no Lars that belonged to James. There was a new Lars in his place. The one that was curled as close as possible against the frontman, fingertips rubbing at his tattooed chest, tracing around a so-familiar thundercloud. The one whose body would shiver occasionally, residual tremors ebbing away. The one who'd heard the words jeg elsker dig and felt tears prickle the backs of his eyes. The one who'd felt Billie lie like this against him in a shitty little backstreet motel many, many moons ago…and it hadn't felt so bad. And the one who now pressed a lingering kiss to that tattooed chest, green eyes slipping closed as he sank himself into it completely, and uttered one very simple, very powerful word that just tonight earned its true meaning.
"Yours."
There was the Lars that belonged to Billie.
Billie Joe smiled; a soft, contented expression tinged with awe. He could feel Lars all along his body and he listened as the drummer's breathing slowed into the steady cadence of sleep, overlaid by the mental echo of his last word.
It felt almost like the first time Lars had told him, 'I love you'. Well, not the very first, coming as it had onstage, but later that night, after his own total exposure, when he'd wrapped himself around another wet body in the jacuzzi with the sense that everything was right with his world.
Here, now, that journey felt complete; felt reciprocal. Balanced the way it was meant to be - had to be to truly last. Billie didn't think he'd care to lay odds on which man's road had been more difficult, and it didn't matter anyway because in the end, they'd both been committed enough to discovering the potential of what lay between them to overcome everything they'd needed to.
He remembered dropping a handful of condoms into callused hands in a dingy little motel room and asking silently, Can you take everything, the way you said you were going to earlier? Can you take me? And how Lars had proceeded to do just that, not only that night, but the next time they met, and every day since then. He was strong enough to take whatever Billie threw at him, including the vulnerable bravery he'd displayed tonight in giving over all of his being. Yours, Lars had whispered, and finally it was true.
The quiet simplicity of the moment made his throat catch; his arms tighten around the man sleeping in them. Billie rubbed one stubbling cheek against mussed hair in profound gratitude and closed his eyes.
( to chapter 3)
Don't forget to leave some love for looking_spiffy, too!