Categories > Celebrities > Slipknot > Heartache every moment
Chapter 6 - 'Our Diabolical Rapture'
After what might have been a few minutes or a few hours, Mick reluctantly left Joey’s side for a shower He washed himself as quickly as possible, trying not to think of Joey waking up while he wasn’t there. His whole being seemed to be in tune with Joey, and the thought of the smaller man consumed him. The protectiveness that flowed through his veins and made him care for Joey like he’d never cared for anything before both confused and exalted him. He’d never felt more alive.
Still thinking, he dried himself off quickly and walked naked into the bedroom. Dimming the lights, he slid under the covers next to Joey, taking him into his arms. Joey seemed to fit so perfectly with him, like a lost piece of a puzzle that Mick had been looking for his whole life. He almost didn’t want to sleep, he just wanted to hold and watch Joey forever. But he drifted off to dream with Joey, and in their sleep, they still clung to each other.
*
Mick dreamt of black hair and soft, white skin, and bright, ice blue eyes that tore into his soul. Even in his sleep, Joey imbibed him. Not content to invade his day dreams and thoughts, Joey appeared in his dreams as a vision.
Then his dream changed, and the apparition seemed to twist and distort, and blur. Mick began to stir, the vision disturbing him. A quiet cry pierced his sleep, and something jerked in his arms.
Joey.
With alarm, Mick woke. Joey was in pain and upset, writhing in his arms. His eyes leaked hot tears as he choked down groans, and the discomfort forced him to move. Desperately he tried to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. Mick felt hopeless, watching his lover in such obvious pain, and as Joey tried to climb out of bed to stand up Mick forced himself to move. Sliding after Joey, he grabbed him just as Joey’s legs began to buckle.
Carefully he lowered him to the ground, clinging Joey to him. He held him as his body spasmed, stroking Joey’s face and murmuring comfort. Slowly, Joey’s groans turned to whimpers, and his body settled, laying weakly in Mick’s arms. His stomach had felt like it was trying to tear him into two. Now, the nausea started to flood over him, and he rushed out of Mick’s embrace to the bathroom.
This time, the vomiting seemed to go on and on. He shook and trembled as his stomach convulsed, feeling Mick’s hands desperately trying to console and soothe him. Each time he thought it was finished he would gag again, tears streaming down his face. When, finally, his stomach seemed to have stopped heaving, he collapsed back into Mick. His body felt drained and sore, and he was exhausted, physically and mentally. He let the tears fall, sobbing, not ashamed to cry in the wake of the pain.
Mick fought away his own tears, trying to stay strong for Joey. His despair at Joey’s agony ripped at him, and he felt as though he was experiencing the same pain. Joey felt incredibly frail and weak, and his tiny body seemed too fragile to take much more. Tenderly he lifted Joey, worried he might break. Passing back into the bedroom, Mick lay Joey on the bed, spreading the covers back over him. The small man appeared to be asleep, but as Mick lay next to him, his reddened eyes opened.
“Mick?”
“Joey.... shhhhhh...” Mick stroked his face, brushing away the hair from his damp face.
“I’m gonna be here, I won’t leave you,” he reassured.
Content, Joey fell back into oblivion, and Mick hoped that in his sleep, he felt no pain.
*
This time, Mick did not sleep. He couldn’t have if he’d tried. He kept a watch on Joey all night, hoping he wouldn’t have another episode. Thankfully, the darkness disappeared into day without Joey in distress again. He lay there until the small figure beside him began to stir, and Mick laid a hand on his chest. Joey woke quietly, his eyes tired and drawn. He reached up to grip Mick’s hand, and hung onto it tightly.
“Do you feel sick?” Mick asked anxiously.
“I feel sore,” Joey answered, and it seemed just to speak was an effort,
Mick sat up, still holding Joey’s hand, and reached over the painkillers on the sidetable. He made Joey swallow two, holding the glass up to his mouth to drink. Joey lay back on the pillows with a sigh, eyes closed.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Mick whispered to him.
Joey shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. All I do is sleep... “
Mick kissed him softly.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Joey smiled weakly. “Make me feel better.”
His eyes opened, and he held his arms out for Mick.
Mick chuckled. He pulled Joey onto him, so the smaller man lay between his legs with his head on his chest. Mick’s hands drifted to Joey’s stomach, rubbing gently. Joey sighed, and relaxed in Mick’s arms. Feeling Joey calm and loosen, Mick continued to rub. He stroked in circles, slightly alarmed at the obvious weight loss, but kept it to himself. Joey’s soft skin yielded to his touch, and Mick felt himself start to relax as well. His hands roamed lower, and brushed over the trimmed hair by Joey’s groin. He teased Joey by removing his hands and sliding them down to his inner thighs instead. Joey spread his legs as Mick ran his hands up and down the delicate, sensitive skin.
Joey started to buck his hips slightly as Mick edged closer to his now hard cock. As hands wrapped around him, he moaned, bracing his head back into Mick’s shoulder. The pain in his stomach started to disappear as the hands worked over him, stroking his length. The pleasure from his groin spread to every part of his body, sparking and burning. He moaned as Mick increased the friction, and shifted slightly, opening his legs more. Mick got the point. One of his hands reached out for the sidetable, and touched on the lube. He briefly let go of Joey to squirt some onto his finger, and then he stretched down to between Joeys legs again. One hand returned to Joey’s aching cock, and the lubed hand drifted further down.
He circled Joey’s entrance, letting the lube grease him. Slowly, he pressed a finger in, registering that this time, it was easier. Joey gasped as Mick began to thrust in and out. Every nerve in his body was on fire. Mick slid another finger in, and continued to stroke Joey. He felt his own hardon straining, and pressing against Joey’s thigh. A small hand crept down, and Mick was aware that Joey was gripping his cock, guiding it to his entrance. Mick let his fingers slide out, and with one hand lifted Joey’s hips up slightly. Together, he and Joey pressed himself in, and Mick sighed at the tight, warm feeling that enveloped him. Joey gripped him, holding on as Mick began to thrust upwards gently.
They rocked together slowly, hips moving in unison, and Mick kept up his stroking. One of Joey’s hands joined him eagerly. Leaning back, Joey moaned, savouring the intense feelings. Mick kept a careful hold on Joey, making sure he didn’t go too hard or fast, he could feel that the drummer was weak. He wasn’t entirely sure that this was what the doctor had in mind when he said to take care of him, but Joey appeared to have improved vastly over the last few minutes. He resisted the urge to thrust hard, and Joey seemed quite happy with their current pace.
Mick looked down to check on him, and was reassured by the contented look on his face. His eyes were closed, and the strained, tired look that aged him only minutes ago had gone. Instead, he looked relaxed, and Mick figured sex was as good a tonic as any. He caressed Joey’s forehead and was pleased to see the smile that crept across his face. Mick had to admit that there was something to slow, gentle sex. He’d always thought the faster and harder the better, but the prolonged, drawn out thrusting seemed to increase his pleasure.
He shifted Joey slightly in his arms, to bring him up closer. Almost at once, Joey started to moan, his chest heaving, hands grabbing at Mick. His head tilted back and then forwards again, and Mick sensed changing his angle of thrusting had caused the heightened ecstasy. Just hearing Joey moan and cry out his name caused Mick to shudder, and he thought he wouldn’t last much longer. Joey seemed close as well, and he urged Mick to stroke him faster. Together they moved closer to orgasm, but Mick took no chances with Joey. He refused to thrust faster, and kept a gentle hand on his stomach to steady him.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh yesssss” Joey hissed, and Mick felt him tense. With a choked moan, Joey came, spilling all over their hands. Mick wasn’t far behind; feeling Joey’s muscles contract around him, he released. His arms curled tighter around the smaller man and their bodies quivered, as one in their ecstasy. Joey moaned a final time and Mick clung to him.
They lay, chests heaving, in their afterglow. Joey tucked his head into Mick and sighed, eyes closing in exhaustion. Sleep was beckoning. It was not so easy for Mick.
He was concerned about Joey, who seemed to have faded. He struggled to lift his hands to let Mick clean them, and could barely mumble a response when Mick asked how he was feeling. His skin was pale and clammy, and Mick cursed his stupidity. Joey was far too sick to be indulging in physically tiring activities, no matter how enticing the event.
He lay Joey on the bed next to him, and headed for the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. On the way back in he glanced at the clock on the sidetable. 11:30am. No wonder he was hungry. He hoped it would be enough time for Joey to get some sleep for the gig. How Mick currently cursed Slipknot... Joey needed days, at least a week off to build up his strength again. Having to go back out on stage each night while he was ill was delaying his recovery, and he was in no doubt that it was playing last night that caused Joey’s sickness this morning.
He thought about telling the guys that Joey just couldn’t play - cancel the show, find another drummer, whatever, but let him sleep. Then he realised how unfair that was, and although a part of him was so desperate for Joey to get well he would go behind his back to make him rest, the rest of him knew it was Joey’s decision, not his. And he knew Joey would want to play.
Tenderly, he wiped the wet cloth over Joey’s face, refreshing him from the sweat that had built up during sex. Joey was now unnaturally thin; his hips stuck out prominently and Mick could count his ribs. His skin was stretched thin and transparent, and Mick was afraid it would rip if he moved. It had been so long since Joey had eaten. He was struggling to keep down water as it was.
Feeling sick to his stomach at how weak Joey now was, Mick settled on the bed to keep an eye on him. He was sleeping soundly, barely moving, and Mick slid the bedcovers over him to keep him warm.
After what might have been a few minutes or a few hours, Mick reluctantly left Joey’s side for a shower He washed himself as quickly as possible, trying not to think of Joey waking up while he wasn’t there. His whole being seemed to be in tune with Joey, and the thought of the smaller man consumed him. The protectiveness that flowed through his veins and made him care for Joey like he’d never cared for anything before both confused and exalted him. He’d never felt more alive.
Still thinking, he dried himself off quickly and walked naked into the bedroom. Dimming the lights, he slid under the covers next to Joey, taking him into his arms. Joey seemed to fit so perfectly with him, like a lost piece of a puzzle that Mick had been looking for his whole life. He almost didn’t want to sleep, he just wanted to hold and watch Joey forever. But he drifted off to dream with Joey, and in their sleep, they still clung to each other.
*
Mick dreamt of black hair and soft, white skin, and bright, ice blue eyes that tore into his soul. Even in his sleep, Joey imbibed him. Not content to invade his day dreams and thoughts, Joey appeared in his dreams as a vision.
Then his dream changed, and the apparition seemed to twist and distort, and blur. Mick began to stir, the vision disturbing him. A quiet cry pierced his sleep, and something jerked in his arms.
Joey.
With alarm, Mick woke. Joey was in pain and upset, writhing in his arms. His eyes leaked hot tears as he choked down groans, and the discomfort forced him to move. Desperately he tried to find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. Mick felt hopeless, watching his lover in such obvious pain, and as Joey tried to climb out of bed to stand up Mick forced himself to move. Sliding after Joey, he grabbed him just as Joey’s legs began to buckle.
Carefully he lowered him to the ground, clinging Joey to him. He held him as his body spasmed, stroking Joey’s face and murmuring comfort. Slowly, Joey’s groans turned to whimpers, and his body settled, laying weakly in Mick’s arms. His stomach had felt like it was trying to tear him into two. Now, the nausea started to flood over him, and he rushed out of Mick’s embrace to the bathroom.
This time, the vomiting seemed to go on and on. He shook and trembled as his stomach convulsed, feeling Mick’s hands desperately trying to console and soothe him. Each time he thought it was finished he would gag again, tears streaming down his face. When, finally, his stomach seemed to have stopped heaving, he collapsed back into Mick. His body felt drained and sore, and he was exhausted, physically and mentally. He let the tears fall, sobbing, not ashamed to cry in the wake of the pain.
Mick fought away his own tears, trying to stay strong for Joey. His despair at Joey’s agony ripped at him, and he felt as though he was experiencing the same pain. Joey felt incredibly frail and weak, and his tiny body seemed too fragile to take much more. Tenderly he lifted Joey, worried he might break. Passing back into the bedroom, Mick lay Joey on the bed, spreading the covers back over him. The small man appeared to be asleep, but as Mick lay next to him, his reddened eyes opened.
“Mick?”
“Joey.... shhhhhh...” Mick stroked his face, brushing away the hair from his damp face.
“I’m gonna be here, I won’t leave you,” he reassured.
Content, Joey fell back into oblivion, and Mick hoped that in his sleep, he felt no pain.
*
This time, Mick did not sleep. He couldn’t have if he’d tried. He kept a watch on Joey all night, hoping he wouldn’t have another episode. Thankfully, the darkness disappeared into day without Joey in distress again. He lay there until the small figure beside him began to stir, and Mick laid a hand on his chest. Joey woke quietly, his eyes tired and drawn. He reached up to grip Mick’s hand, and hung onto it tightly.
“Do you feel sick?” Mick asked anxiously.
“I feel sore,” Joey answered, and it seemed just to speak was an effort,
Mick sat up, still holding Joey’s hand, and reached over the painkillers on the sidetable. He made Joey swallow two, holding the glass up to his mouth to drink. Joey lay back on the pillows with a sigh, eyes closed.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Mick whispered to him.
Joey shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. All I do is sleep... “
Mick kissed him softly.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Joey smiled weakly. “Make me feel better.”
His eyes opened, and he held his arms out for Mick.
Mick chuckled. He pulled Joey onto him, so the smaller man lay between his legs with his head on his chest. Mick’s hands drifted to Joey’s stomach, rubbing gently. Joey sighed, and relaxed in Mick’s arms. Feeling Joey calm and loosen, Mick continued to rub. He stroked in circles, slightly alarmed at the obvious weight loss, but kept it to himself. Joey’s soft skin yielded to his touch, and Mick felt himself start to relax as well. His hands roamed lower, and brushed over the trimmed hair by Joey’s groin. He teased Joey by removing his hands and sliding them down to his inner thighs instead. Joey spread his legs as Mick ran his hands up and down the delicate, sensitive skin.
Joey started to buck his hips slightly as Mick edged closer to his now hard cock. As hands wrapped around him, he moaned, bracing his head back into Mick’s shoulder. The pain in his stomach started to disappear as the hands worked over him, stroking his length. The pleasure from his groin spread to every part of his body, sparking and burning. He moaned as Mick increased the friction, and shifted slightly, opening his legs more. Mick got the point. One of his hands reached out for the sidetable, and touched on the lube. He briefly let go of Joey to squirt some onto his finger, and then he stretched down to between Joeys legs again. One hand returned to Joey’s aching cock, and the lubed hand drifted further down.
He circled Joey’s entrance, letting the lube grease him. Slowly, he pressed a finger in, registering that this time, it was easier. Joey gasped as Mick began to thrust in and out. Every nerve in his body was on fire. Mick slid another finger in, and continued to stroke Joey. He felt his own hardon straining, and pressing against Joey’s thigh. A small hand crept down, and Mick was aware that Joey was gripping his cock, guiding it to his entrance. Mick let his fingers slide out, and with one hand lifted Joey’s hips up slightly. Together, he and Joey pressed himself in, and Mick sighed at the tight, warm feeling that enveloped him. Joey gripped him, holding on as Mick began to thrust upwards gently.
They rocked together slowly, hips moving in unison, and Mick kept up his stroking. One of Joey’s hands joined him eagerly. Leaning back, Joey moaned, savouring the intense feelings. Mick kept a careful hold on Joey, making sure he didn’t go too hard or fast, he could feel that the drummer was weak. He wasn’t entirely sure that this was what the doctor had in mind when he said to take care of him, but Joey appeared to have improved vastly over the last few minutes. He resisted the urge to thrust hard, and Joey seemed quite happy with their current pace.
Mick looked down to check on him, and was reassured by the contented look on his face. His eyes were closed, and the strained, tired look that aged him only minutes ago had gone. Instead, he looked relaxed, and Mick figured sex was as good a tonic as any. He caressed Joey’s forehead and was pleased to see the smile that crept across his face. Mick had to admit that there was something to slow, gentle sex. He’d always thought the faster and harder the better, but the prolonged, drawn out thrusting seemed to increase his pleasure.
He shifted Joey slightly in his arms, to bring him up closer. Almost at once, Joey started to moan, his chest heaving, hands grabbing at Mick. His head tilted back and then forwards again, and Mick sensed changing his angle of thrusting had caused the heightened ecstasy. Just hearing Joey moan and cry out his name caused Mick to shudder, and he thought he wouldn’t last much longer. Joey seemed close as well, and he urged Mick to stroke him faster. Together they moved closer to orgasm, but Mick took no chances with Joey. He refused to thrust faster, and kept a gentle hand on his stomach to steady him.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh yesssss” Joey hissed, and Mick felt him tense. With a choked moan, Joey came, spilling all over their hands. Mick wasn’t far behind; feeling Joey’s muscles contract around him, he released. His arms curled tighter around the smaller man and their bodies quivered, as one in their ecstasy. Joey moaned a final time and Mick clung to him.
They lay, chests heaving, in their afterglow. Joey tucked his head into Mick and sighed, eyes closing in exhaustion. Sleep was beckoning. It was not so easy for Mick.
He was concerned about Joey, who seemed to have faded. He struggled to lift his hands to let Mick clean them, and could barely mumble a response when Mick asked how he was feeling. His skin was pale and clammy, and Mick cursed his stupidity. Joey was far too sick to be indulging in physically tiring activities, no matter how enticing the event.
He lay Joey on the bed next to him, and headed for the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. On the way back in he glanced at the clock on the sidetable. 11:30am. No wonder he was hungry. He hoped it would be enough time for Joey to get some sleep for the gig. How Mick currently cursed Slipknot... Joey needed days, at least a week off to build up his strength again. Having to go back out on stage each night while he was ill was delaying his recovery, and he was in no doubt that it was playing last night that caused Joey’s sickness this morning.
He thought about telling the guys that Joey just couldn’t play - cancel the show, find another drummer, whatever, but let him sleep. Then he realised how unfair that was, and although a part of him was so desperate for Joey to get well he would go behind his back to make him rest, the rest of him knew it was Joey’s decision, not his. And he knew Joey would want to play.
Tenderly, he wiped the wet cloth over Joey’s face, refreshing him from the sweat that had built up during sex. Joey was now unnaturally thin; his hips stuck out prominently and Mick could count his ribs. His skin was stretched thin and transparent, and Mick was afraid it would rip if he moved. It had been so long since Joey had eaten. He was struggling to keep down water as it was.
Feeling sick to his stomach at how weak Joey now was, Mick settled on the bed to keep an eye on him. He was sleeping soundly, barely moving, and Mick slid the bedcovers over him to keep him warm.
Sign up to rate and review this story