Dave and Lars get drunk on a rare night off
Part: First story in a series. The series is called 'The Pain of Love'
Rating: PG 13
Pairing: Dave/Lars UST, James/Lars implied
Archive: Camelot, Tallific, anyone else please ask.
Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction. Fiction = make believe. I do not own these people, only the story. .
Notes: This is the first part of a series, also an answer to a challenge I made in the Tallific group to give a story based on the interview/therapy session between Lars and Dave.
Summary: Dave and Lars get drunk on a rare night off.
Warnings: slash (obviously), language (obviously), violence
"Where's your shadow?" Dave asked, smirking at Lars as he took a seat next to him at the bar and ordered himself a drink.
Lars cocked his head and glanced over at Dave as he sat down; shaking his head that he hadn't heard the question. It was loud in the club they were at, the local band nothing all that spectacular, but at least they were metal, something most of the other clubs around here didn't offer. Metallica was on a rare off night, having gotten back home to the warehouse/studio/place they were crashing early this morning; the guys had all pretty much passed out. They had two off days before they hit the road again, and Lars meant to make the most of them. Hell, all four of them did.
Dave shook his head, letting Lars know it wasn't an important question and grabbed his Kamikaze as well as another Jaegermeister for Lars and nodded towards a table towards the back of the room. Lars grinned at him and pulled to his feet, following the larger man, and more importantly his drink, over towards the table. It was nicer over here, he had to admit. They could still see everything going on, people coming and going, the band up on the small stage, the dance floor, but it wasn't as loud and they could actually talk.
"So, as I was saying, where's your shadow?" Dave asked, a happy grin on his face. He loved James like a brother, of course he did. Damnit, though, how was he supposed to get Lars to talk to him with James following after him like a puppy? Dave had been trying to get Lars to himself for months now. There was just something about the diminutive little man that called to something deep inside him, the urge to protect him, shelter him, care for him, love him was so strong he didn't know how much longer he would be able to ignore it.
"James?" Lars shrugged, grinning across the table at Dave as he nodded. "He's back at the warehouse writing. Was when I left anyway?"
Lars picked up his glass, draining it and set it to the side of the table for the waitress to pick up. He wasn't uncomfortable with Dave, not really, but there was an unsure feeling. He sensed that Dave wanted something more from him than he was capable of giving him. Well, incapable of giving him any more. For a moment he thought what if? What if he had met Dave first and James after? Would he have fallen for the redhead then? Part of him thought he might have, but then he was afraid he would have hurt him in the end, because what he felt for James was just too strong to deny. Things happened the way they were meant to, but he really needed to have a talk with James about setting the score straight with their bandmates so everyone knew they were together, and then maybe Dave could move on and find what he was looking for elsewhere and there wouldn't be any uncomfortableness.
"So what's the plan for the off time?" Dave asked. Fuck, that was the best news he had heard in ages. If James was writing, there was every possibility that he wouldn't show up all night, leaving him Lars one on one, because Cliff wouldn't show up here. He would likely be hanging with the guys from Anthrax who were in town working on a new album.
"I have some scheduling to do tomorrow, and I need to make some more copies of our demo album to drop off with the kids at the next few gigs. James and I are working on the songs he's got in mind while we're off. I have a lawyer I need to call. I want to look into a new producer. I got an interview scheduled that I wanted to talk to you about with a guitar mag. The Metal Mania guys want an interview with at least two of us, they'd prefer the whole band, but I'm not sure we're going to be able to handle that, Cliff said he'd do it, and I was hoping you'd do that one, too. I'm gonna see if I can con James into it as well, but you know how he is when song ideas are flowing." Lars rambled happily, always more than willing to talk about band business.
That was one of the best things about Dave, James too. Both of them were more than happy to indulge him in that respect, they were all of the same mind. Metallica was going to be the biggest name in Metal music that ever existed, no matter what they had to do or sacrifice to make it there. A common dream was a strong bond, one that made them a family, and even Cliff, who was the most laid back fucker he had ever met, shared that dream with them.
"The interviews are no big deal. Are they phone, or in person? Just let me know when and where, and I'm your man." Dave told him, shaking his head at the added 'in more ways than one' in his head. Thank fuck he hadn't had too much to drink yet, or that would have come out his mouth, too. "Hey, have you thought about looking into a photographer? We should probably look into getting some photos of us, both single and group. They seem to sell like hotcakes when other bands do it."
"Fuck, that's a hell of an idea, Dave. I'll check into what that'd cost us tomorrow." That right there was one of the things he loved about Dave. He was a mixture of himself and James when it came to band shit. He thought about the business end of things, but he had a creative streak a mile wide, too. It was no fucking wonder Cliff jokingly referred to him as the 'lovechild of Hetfield and Ulrich'.
The two of them hung around talking about band business, listening to the music, people watching, but basically getting shit faced drunk for the next couple hours. Both Lars and Dave were shitfaced and getting ready to leave when it happened. Some guy, Phil, they had met him once or twice before; he was in one of the local bands, a guitarist or something, came over to the table and started talking some shit to Lars. He started out asking what a fag like Lars was doing in a straight bar, telling him that the gay bar was down the street, and fags like him didn't need to be in here with the normal people, trying to corrupt them. Lars wasn't really all that sure what all the asshole was saying; just that he was talking shit about him. At first he tried to ignore it, but he kept going and going till Lars was right in his face screaming back at him.
Dave had been at the bar getting them both a fresh drink, one last one for the road, when he came to the table, so he missed the beginning, but when he came back the two of them were arguing rather loudly. He set the drinks on the table and started around the side of the table to tell the bastard to get the fuck away from Lars when Phil grabbed Lars by the hair and kicked him square in the nuts.
Dave saw red and his steps faltered. Literally diving across the table he ripped him away from Lars, pushing him to the floor. His mind again and again saw Phil's foot connecting with the man he loved. He was barely aware of what he was doing as he took that leg between his hands and snapped the bone. The only thing that stopped him from doing anything else was Lars's scream of pain as someone pushed him to the side to see what was going on.
Dave pulled away from Phil without a backwards glance, not a second thought was spared for the asshole. He quickly moved to Lars and seeing the pain still etched on the tiny man's face, what little remorse he felt for his actions was obliterated. Gently he picked Lars up, cradling him against his body, he stalked towards the exit, the path clearing as people scurried out of the obviously enraged man and his precious cargo's way.