Categories > Celebrities > Metallica
This is a really old Met fic that I came across recently and decided to put here. Written when I ws first trying my hand at fanfiction, so I know it sucks. Hopefully, I've gotten better. On with the show.
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Lars sighed and paced the length of the room, frustrated. He still hadn’t worked out what he was going to say to James yet. Why, oh why, had he made that stupid phone call?
Flashback
"Hey James?" Lars twirled the phone cord around his fingers and chewed his bottom lip. "Yeah? What’s up?" James’s gruff voice answered. "Um, can you come over tonight? We need to talk." Lars was starting to wonder why he was going to put himself through this. Damn Kirk and his "James has a right to know" crap. James didn’t need to know. After all, what he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt Lars, right?
"Yeah, sure. About what?" James sounded distracted. "Um, can we just talk about it when you get here?" Lars asked. "Okay. See ya then." "See ya." They hung up and Lars flung himself down on his bed and turned toward the window to watch the rain falling.
End Flashback
He groaned and tugged at his brown hair in agony. Suddenly, a knock sounded at his door and he looked up at it in dread. "Come on, Lars! Open up before I fucking drown!" James’ voice called through the thick wood. Lars walked to it and unlocked it. He twisted the door knob to reveal a soaking James. He chuckled in spite of himself. "Forgot your fucking umbrella, didn’t you?" James merely shot him a glare and shoved past him, into the kitchen. "Got any soda?" "Yeah. Diet Coke with Lime." he called back.
James came back into the living room and settled himself down on the couch. He passed Lars a can and open his own. "So, what’d you want to talk about?" he took a swig of the drink. Lars wiped his hand over his face and sighed again. "Um, well, um." he was at a loss for words for once. James frowned at him. "You okay?" He set down his drink and leaned forward, looking concerned.
"Fine. This is just hard to say." Lars looked down at his hands. "You’re not gonna fucking leave the band, are you?" James wore a combination of anger and hurt on his face. His words startled Lars into looking up. "Fuck no! What gave you that fucking stupid idea?"
"Well, I don’t know. All this shit with Jason, me in rehab." It was James turn to sigh. "Yeah..." Lars trailed off, looking sad for a moment. "Anyway, what were you going to tell me?" James leaned back again, satisfied that Lars wasn’t leaving Metallica.
"Um, promise you won’t freak the fuck out on me?" Lars was still talking to his hands again. "What’s wrong?" James’s concerned tone forced Lars to meet his Sapphire eyes. He blinked suddenly. "Never mind, it’s not important anymore." Lars’ eyes were burning from the tears he was holding back.
"You called me, made me come over here in the middle of a god damn storm, and it’s not fucking "important" anymore?" James was holding his temper in check, but barely. "Start talking, Pixie."
Lars opened his eyes at the use of his old nickname. Cliff had actually been the first one to give it to him when they had first met.
"Okay. I love you." Lars looked at James as the words spilled from his mouth. James grinned as the words filtered into his brain. "I love you too, man." Lars winced and closed his eyes again. "No, James. Not like that. I’m in love with you."
"You’re what?" James sounded startled. "In love with you..." Lars now found it easier to say. He looked into James’s eyes and flinched at what he saw. Reflected in James’s crystal pools was hatred, anger, and, above all else, disgust. Lars recoiled at James’s next words.
"You’re a sick fucking faggot?!" James hissed. {A/N: Normally, I would never use that word because I hate it, but it fits here. I’m not trying to be offensive here.} "James, I..." Lars tried to speak, but James cut him off. "No, I get it. You’re a freak. Well guess what? There are no faggots in Metallica." James stood up and stared down at Lars. "I hate you." was his final words and then he turned at stomped out of the house, slamming the door.
Lars sank to his knees on the floor, having stood up in an attempt to get James to stay. One that hadn’t worked. Tears flowed down his cheeks. He couldn’t cry. James thought crying was weak, but he didn’t make a move to stop them. James wouldn’t care. Didn’t care. Never would care again.
My God, what have I done? I just lost my best and oldest friend in the world. All because I just HAD to fall in fucking love with him. And for what? I knew he wouldn’t love me. James is the straightest man I know. He could never feel the same. At least he didn’t beat the fuck out of me. With that final cheery thought, Lars stood up and walked back into his room and flung himself down and sobbed bitterly into his pillow.
A Few Hours Later
Lars had cried himself to sleep, but a fierce banging on his door woke him up. He groggily stood up, the dried tear tracks still clinging to his pale face, and stumbled to the door. He pulled the door open to reveal James standing on his doorstep. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "The fuck? I thought you hated me and never wanted to see me again?" Lars leaned against the door frame.
James looked down at his feet and chewed his bottom lip before he looked back into Lars’s tired green eyes. The same eyes that had once sparkled with love, hate, pain, joy, contentment, mischief, lust, and adoration for his friends, now looked worn out and dull.
"I made a mistake. I was scared." James blinked at the sudden wetness in his eyes. Lars was looking slightly confused and timidly hopeful. "I am so sorry I ever dared to say what I did to you. I thought, maybe, you weren’t serious and you were fucking with me. I thought you were teasing me. I thought..........I didn’t think at all. And I’m sorry. Please forgive me?" James met Lars’s eyes once again and smiled hopefully. "You hurt me, James . Bad. You ripped my heart out and pretty much stomped on it. Then laughed." Lars paused and rubbed his face. James took this moment to say something else.
"I know. And I am truly sorry. And I love you too." Without giving Lars a chance to reply, James scooped him up into his arms and kissed him hard and deep.
With a moan, Lars kissed back and wrapped his arms around James’s neck. They broke apart and smirked at each other. "Well, that was a hell of an apology." Lars nibbled on James’s neck. "That was a hell of a forgiveness. Maybe I should fuck up more often." James growled as Lars found a particularly sensitive place on his neck.
"What you should fuck is me." Lars breathed into James’s ear before sucking on the lobe.
James moaned and kicked the door shut and wrapped Lars’s legs around his waist. He walked into the tiny Dane’s bedroom and lowered him onto the bed.
"I should." James leaned down and kissed him again. "But not now. I want our first time to be special. Not all hurried and frantic." he let go of Lars and laid down beside him, pulling the covers up to their chin. "But..." Lars looked at him, pleadingly. "No. Let’s go to sleep." James said firmly and pulled Lars into his arms. Lars tucked his head under James’s chin and sighed happily. "G’night James. I love you." "Night. I love you more." James tightened his arms around the Pixie and closed his eyes and drifted off into DreamLand.
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Lars sighed and paced the length of the room, frustrated. He still hadn’t worked out what he was going to say to James yet. Why, oh why, had he made that stupid phone call?
Flashback
"Hey James?" Lars twirled the phone cord around his fingers and chewed his bottom lip. "Yeah? What’s up?" James’s gruff voice answered. "Um, can you come over tonight? We need to talk." Lars was starting to wonder why he was going to put himself through this. Damn Kirk and his "James has a right to know" crap. James didn’t need to know. After all, what he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt Lars, right?
"Yeah, sure. About what?" James sounded distracted. "Um, can we just talk about it when you get here?" Lars asked. "Okay. See ya then." "See ya." They hung up and Lars flung himself down on his bed and turned toward the window to watch the rain falling.
End Flashback
He groaned and tugged at his brown hair in agony. Suddenly, a knock sounded at his door and he looked up at it in dread. "Come on, Lars! Open up before I fucking drown!" James’ voice called through the thick wood. Lars walked to it and unlocked it. He twisted the door knob to reveal a soaking James. He chuckled in spite of himself. "Forgot your fucking umbrella, didn’t you?" James merely shot him a glare and shoved past him, into the kitchen. "Got any soda?" "Yeah. Diet Coke with Lime." he called back.
James came back into the living room and settled himself down on the couch. He passed Lars a can and open his own. "So, what’d you want to talk about?" he took a swig of the drink. Lars wiped his hand over his face and sighed again. "Um, well, um." he was at a loss for words for once. James frowned at him. "You okay?" He set down his drink and leaned forward, looking concerned.
"Fine. This is just hard to say." Lars looked down at his hands. "You’re not gonna fucking leave the band, are you?" James wore a combination of anger and hurt on his face. His words startled Lars into looking up. "Fuck no! What gave you that fucking stupid idea?"
"Well, I don’t know. All this shit with Jason, me in rehab." It was James turn to sigh. "Yeah..." Lars trailed off, looking sad for a moment. "Anyway, what were you going to tell me?" James leaned back again, satisfied that Lars wasn’t leaving Metallica.
"Um, promise you won’t freak the fuck out on me?" Lars was still talking to his hands again. "What’s wrong?" James’s concerned tone forced Lars to meet his Sapphire eyes. He blinked suddenly. "Never mind, it’s not important anymore." Lars’ eyes were burning from the tears he was holding back.
"You called me, made me come over here in the middle of a god damn storm, and it’s not fucking "important" anymore?" James was holding his temper in check, but barely. "Start talking, Pixie."
Lars opened his eyes at the use of his old nickname. Cliff had actually been the first one to give it to him when they had first met.
"Okay. I love you." Lars looked at James as the words spilled from his mouth. James grinned as the words filtered into his brain. "I love you too, man." Lars winced and closed his eyes again. "No, James. Not like that. I’m in love with you."
"You’re what?" James sounded startled. "In love with you..." Lars now found it easier to say. He looked into James’s eyes and flinched at what he saw. Reflected in James’s crystal pools was hatred, anger, and, above all else, disgust. Lars recoiled at James’s next words.
"You’re a sick fucking faggot?!" James hissed. {A/N: Normally, I would never use that word because I hate it, but it fits here. I’m not trying to be offensive here.} "James, I..." Lars tried to speak, but James cut him off. "No, I get it. You’re a freak. Well guess what? There are no faggots in Metallica." James stood up and stared down at Lars. "I hate you." was his final words and then he turned at stomped out of the house, slamming the door.
Lars sank to his knees on the floor, having stood up in an attempt to get James to stay. One that hadn’t worked. Tears flowed down his cheeks. He couldn’t cry. James thought crying was weak, but he didn’t make a move to stop them. James wouldn’t care. Didn’t care. Never would care again.
My God, what have I done? I just lost my best and oldest friend in the world. All because I just HAD to fall in fucking love with him. And for what? I knew he wouldn’t love me. James is the straightest man I know. He could never feel the same. At least he didn’t beat the fuck out of me. With that final cheery thought, Lars stood up and walked back into his room and flung himself down and sobbed bitterly into his pillow.
A Few Hours Later
Lars had cried himself to sleep, but a fierce banging on his door woke him up. He groggily stood up, the dried tear tracks still clinging to his pale face, and stumbled to the door. He pulled the door open to reveal James standing on his doorstep. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. "The fuck? I thought you hated me and never wanted to see me again?" Lars leaned against the door frame.
James looked down at his feet and chewed his bottom lip before he looked back into Lars’s tired green eyes. The same eyes that had once sparkled with love, hate, pain, joy, contentment, mischief, lust, and adoration for his friends, now looked worn out and dull.
"I made a mistake. I was scared." James blinked at the sudden wetness in his eyes. Lars was looking slightly confused and timidly hopeful. "I am so sorry I ever dared to say what I did to you. I thought, maybe, you weren’t serious and you were fucking with me. I thought you were teasing me. I thought..........I didn’t think at all. And I’m sorry. Please forgive me?" James met Lars’s eyes once again and smiled hopefully. "You hurt me, James . Bad. You ripped my heart out and pretty much stomped on it. Then laughed." Lars paused and rubbed his face. James took this moment to say something else.
"I know. And I am truly sorry. And I love you too." Without giving Lars a chance to reply, James scooped him up into his arms and kissed him hard and deep.
With a moan, Lars kissed back and wrapped his arms around James’s neck. They broke apart and smirked at each other. "Well, that was a hell of an apology." Lars nibbled on James’s neck. "That was a hell of a forgiveness. Maybe I should fuck up more often." James growled as Lars found a particularly sensitive place on his neck.
"What you should fuck is me." Lars breathed into James’s ear before sucking on the lobe.
James moaned and kicked the door shut and wrapped Lars’s legs around his waist. He walked into the tiny Dane’s bedroom and lowered him onto the bed.
"I should." James leaned down and kissed him again. "But not now. I want our first time to be special. Not all hurried and frantic." he let go of Lars and laid down beside him, pulling the covers up to their chin. "But..." Lars looked at him, pleadingly. "No. Let’s go to sleep." James said firmly and pulled Lars into his arms. Lars tucked his head under James’s chin and sighed happily. "G’night James. I love you." "Night. I love you more." James tightened his arms around the Pixie and closed his eyes and drifted off into DreamLand.
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