Categories > Celebrities > Slipknot > Heartache every moment

Grace of Your Love

by SyndromeStar

No more sex? YEAH RIGHT!

Category: Slipknot - Rating: NC-17 - Genres: Romance - Published: 2012-03-15 - Updated: 2012-03-15 - 2509 words - Complete

?Blocked
Chapter 18 – Grace of Your Love

Sinking into the hot water, Mick settled Joey between his legs. Despite the lack of decent supplies, the bathroom did have one thing going for it – an extra large bathtub. And a lock on the door. Feeling more relaxed now that he wasn't worried about people walking in on them, Mick wrapped his arms around Joey and kissed him softly on his neck. Tilting his head, Joey closed his eyes and reveled in the sensuous caress.

“You know...” he said languidly, “I still wish there were bubbles.”

Mick chuckled into his kiss, sending vibrations echoing through Joey's body.

“Mmmmmm.....” Joey sighed, breathing deeply.

“I can just see you sitting in here, playing with bubbles,” Mick teased, squeezing Joey gently.

“What colour?” the boy in his arms asked.

“What do you mean, 'what colour'?” Mick quizzed.

“What colour are the bubbles!”

“Oh.” Mick drew up. “Errr....” He thought again. “Pink.”

Joey giggled. “That's so manly.”

“So's wanting a bubble bath.”

Joey shrugged. “Bubbles are fun. Haven't you ever had a bubble bath?”

Mick was speechless for a moment. “Maybe... when I was a kid or something. I can't really remember. Why?”

“Cos if you had, you'd know what I mean. You'd want to play with them too.”

“Yes Joey. I'm sure I would.”

“Don't tease me.”

“I'm not teasing!” Mick exclaimed. “I'm sorry Joey,” he said softly. “It's just I don't think bubbles are my thing.”

Joey started giggling again. Something about that sentence tickled him. Mick, playing with bubbles? Yeah, maybe that was a bit far-fetched.

Mick heard and felt him giggling, and started laughing. “Why are we having this conversation, Joey?”

The drummer turned his head to Mick's. “Because I love bubbles. And you.”

Mick smiled. “Let's carry on along the lines of the second part of that sentence.”

Joey pursed his lips, and with a sly smile, said, “I'm too tired for more sex.”

“Sex isn't synonymous with love, Joey. Surely you've realised that, with all those
groupies.”

“I suppose. Though, there was this one girl....”

“Joey.”

“Ok, ok....”

They lapsed into silence, relaxing in the heated water. Joey started to hum, his head lolling around on Mick's chest. The bigger man was nearly asleep, tiredness overcoming him after his physical exertions that day. A smile twitched at his mouth as he listened to Joey, recognising a familiar childhood lullaby.

“'All The Pretty Horses', Joey?”

Joey stopped humming. “Is that what that is?”

“I think so.”

“Your mom sing it to you?”

“I can't remember. But my brother's wife sings it to their kids.”

“I think my mom sung it to me,” Joey said thoughtfully.

“In the bath?” Mick asked playfully.

“In my bubble bath!” Joey laughed. He sat up, swirling the water around with his hands. It slid through his fingers like sand, and he remembered catching bubbles and blowing them around the bathroom. His mom hated him doing it, because it left sticky patches everywhere, but she always started laughing in the end. There would be bubbles in her hair, on the towels, in the sink and on the mirror. Sometimes, the cat would wander in and bat around the bubbles with her paw, until they popped and startled her. He remembered refusing to have a bath unless there were bubbles. He grew out of that when he started going to school though, big boys didn't have bubble baths.

Mick lay back watching Joey play with the water. The little drummer was quiet, deep in thought and he didn't want to disturb him. He was pleased to see how much Joey had filled out; he was now far from the walking skeleton he had been when he was admitted to hospital. His stomach was flat now, instead of concave. Mick couldn't see his ribs, and his hips were hidden. Joey's skin had taken on more of a natural colour, and the pallor that had made him look so sick was gone. All in all, it was a far healthier Joey that was splashing about in the bath, and Mick thanked everything he could think of for his recovery.

Joey saw Mick watching him and smiled. “What you thinking about?”

“You. And how much better you look. Like the Joey I used to know.”

Joey looked down at his stomach and grabbed a handful of fat. “I think I need to go on a diet now.”

Mick swatted his hand away. “I hope you're kidding.”

“'Course I am! But how much of this do you think is doughnuts?” He gazed at Mick with his eyebrows raised.

The other man had to laugh. “I reckon half of it would be doughnuts, the other half
whatever they pumped into you down that tube.”

“Hmmm yeah. Liquid food. That thing sucked.”

“Worked though,” Mick pointed out.

“Yeah. Not keen for another try though. I'm glad I wasn't awake when they stuck it down there.” With that, Joey promptly leaned forwards and dunked himself under the water. Mick laughed at him as he came up spluttering, wiping water from his eyes.

“You look like that chick from 'The Ring'! Dripping water all over the carpet as she climbs out of the TV!”

Joey glared at him. “She has a name.”

“Who does?”

“That chick from 'The Ring'! It's Samara.”

“So? Do you admit that you look like that chi- Samara, from 'The Ring'?”

“Yes. I've studied that phenomenon myself.”

“What, in the mirror?”

“Something like that.”

Joey grabbed his shampoo from the floor by the bath and dumped half the contents on his head. Lathering furiously, he soon resembled something that Mick remembered building in his front yard in the snow when he was a kid. He wondered if Joey was trying to make up for the lack of bubbles. Sure enough, the drummer grabbed a handful from his head and blew them through his fingers. He directed one lot straight at Mick, who closed his eyes and grimaced as he felt the bubbles burst on his skin.

“Having fun?” he asked, wiping his face clean.

“Yes!” Joey exclaimed, aiming for the pile of clothes by the tub. Mick had to laugh. Joey looked exceptionally cute.

Lathering up his own hair from the shampoo bottle, Mick had an idea. Careful not to rouse suspicion, he gathered his own handful of suds. Waiting until Joey was distracted with hitting the garbage can, he lined up.

“Hey Joey.”

As the ebony haired drummer turned to face him, he blew. Joey shut his eyes and squealed in delight as the bubbles hit him. “Mick!”

The guitarist laughed as he watched Joey pout, and ducked when he saw the smaller man planning his revenge. The water washed over him like a wave, sloshing over the side of the tub. With watery shampoo foam running down his face, he sat up. “Nice one, Joey, real nice!”

The shampoo was stinging his eyes, and he wiped it away carefully. Blinking furiously, he groped his arms out for Joey. Despite his size, Joey was unable to avoid him, and found himself being swept up into a hug.

“I'd use the word 'insufferable' again, but I'm afraid you might take offence again,” Mick said, laughter edging into his words.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Joey asked, flinging his arms around Mick's neck.

“Do I have a choice?” Mick said grudgingly, but with a smile on his face. He didn't think he'd ever be able to get mad at Joey. The drummer had buried his face into Mick's neck, swathing him in bubbles. “Ugh, Joey!”

“What?!” came the muffled reply.

“You got bubbles in my mouth,” Mick answered indignantly.

Joey sat up abruptly, foam dripping from his hair, a wicked smile on his face. “I'm sorry!”

“Are not.”

“Am too!”

“Be quiet!”

Joey poked his tongue out at Mick as the bigger man sat up and reached around behind him. “What are you doing?”

“This,” Mick said distractedly, as he turned on the portable shower head that sat on top of the faucets.

“Stay still,” he said to Joey. “Close your eyes.”

Joey did as he was told, clamping them even tighter shut as he felt the water rinse his hair. Mick was careful though, and he didn't feel any water drip down his face.

“All done!”

Joey relaxed and opened his eyes, watching as Mick rinsed his own hair. He hadn't realised just how long it was – longer than his own, anyway. Mick smiled as he saw him gazing, and shut off the water. “Come here.”

Joey didn't need asking twice. Mick gathered him up in his arms, kissing him softly. Brushing the wet hair out of Joey's eyes, he spoke. “You're so cute when you're wet.”

Joey cracked up. “What about the rest of the time, then?” he asked coyly, running a hand over Mick's chest.

“The rest of the time.... you're always perfect, Joey.”

This time it was Joey who kissed Mick, holding his face in his hands.

Smiling, Mick set Joey back down. Grabbing the bottle of bodywash (Joey refused to use soap) he poured some onto a washcloth. Rubbing it over Joey's body carefully, he washed him tenderly, stopping to lay kisses on his skin. Joey leaned against the side of the bath, eyes closed, murmering with pleasure as Mick's lips pressed to him. He felt other than heard Mick shift until he was over Joey, hands exploring his skin, washcloth cleansing him gently.

All too soon, Mick was finished, and Joey watched as he washed himself, marvelling at the muscles that dominated his chest. Mick noticed him staring and smiled, tossing the cloth away into the water. His hands gripped Joey's legs underwater and the small man started, before playfully kicking out at Mick.

“Now now.... can't have that....” Mick's hands began to slide up Joey's legs, parting them slowly.

Joey just sat back and smirked, allowing Mick to come closer and closer. Soon, he felt hands grip his arse and lift him up. He found himself sitting on Mick's lap, his face only inches away.

“I like this.”

“I thought you would....” Mick said huskily, before shutting him up with a hungry kiss.

Joey moaned quietly, squeezing his legs around Mick. Those hands on him were stroking and caressing and Joey twisted his fingers into Mick's hair.

“Come here,” Mick whispered into Joey's ear. They lay back, Joey nuzzling Mick's neck. The guitarist let his hands drift up to rub Joey's back, touching him softly. Joey sighed as he felt Mick's fingers. Mick had a way of touching him that kindled his senses, and made him sensitive to the slightest brush. He shivered as a finger drew lazy circles before tracing a path up and down his spine. Mick kept going lower and lower, teasing Joey, who was shuddering.

“Mick.... I thought no more sex....”

“But you can't deny you like it,” Mick whispered, as he let his finger drift down as far as he wanted it to go. Joey moaned as Mick rubbed him, gripping the guitarist's bicep. And when Mick slid that finger in he cried out, fingers digging into flesh. Mick started to thrust in and out, holding onto the shaking drummer with his other hand. The water started to slosh around as Mick went faster and faster, fucking Joey harder. He curled his finger, and as he did he felt a small bump. Brushing over it, Joey screamed.

“God! Mick!” he cried. “Don't stop!”

Mick concentrated on rubbing the spot, and Joey's shaking became nearly uncontrollable.

“Mmmm fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!! Oh god!”

Joey's hips were jerking unconsciously, grinding his erection against Mick's thigh. The friction was intensely pleasurable, and he knew he was unbearably close.

“Micccckkk, I'm gonna cum, fuck!”

With a strangled scream, Joey felt himself explode into ecstasy. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't think, he could only ride out the powerful release that threatened to tear him in half.

Mick's finger was still jerking inside him, teasing his orgasm longer. His other hand gripped the back of Joey's head, trying to hold him still. Joey was still screaming into his shoulder, a death grip attaching himself to Mick.

He whimpered as he came down, breath shuddering in his throat. Mick hushed him, stroking smooth his wet hair.

“Hey... it's ok...” he whispered into Joey's ear. The drummer turned his head to face him, bright wide blue eyes. He let one of his hands snake up wrap around Mick's neck, bringing him closer. Mick kissed him softly, lips staying their presence on Joey's mouth.

Satiated, Joey collapsed against Mick's chest. The guitarist chuckled, letting him lay there for a few moments.

But the water was getting cold, the bubbles long since disappeared. Mick fished around for the plug, jerking it out. The water started to swirl around them, being sucked down the drain. Mick watched the water eddy, oddly fascinated. It was only when the last remnants of liquid were draining slowly away that he encouraged Joey to sit up.

The drummer sat up carefully, his eyes struggling to stay open. Mick clambered out quickly, grabbing a towel off the rack. He ignored the water dripping onto the tiled floor as he bent down to wrap the towel around Joey, not wanting him to get cold.

“Come on,” he said playfully. “You can't sit there all day.”

Joey just poked his tongue out, and raised his arms so Mick could lift him out.

They dried each other quickly on the bathroom floor, the cold from the tiles seeping into their bodies. Joey wasn't much use though, Mick proved just too big to dry in a reasonably amount of time. The bigger man laughed and finished the job himself, smiling at a pouting Joey.

“Wait here, I'm going to get you some clothes.” Mick wrapped his towel around his waist and ventured back into the room to pick up some clean clothes. Someone had been in while they were in the bathroom; both of the beds had clean sheets on them. Hoping they hadn't heard too much, Mick got what he wanted and went back to Joey.

Clean and dressed, Joey yawned tiredly, rubbing his eyes. Mick sat down next him, concerned.

“Tired?”

“Just a bit...” Joey yawned again, leaning his head against Mick's shoulder. “If you hadn't noticed, you kinda wore me out today.”

They laughed quietly together, Mick squeezing Joey's shoulders.

“There's only one answer to that. Bed!”

Joey just collapsed against him, groaning. “Stay with me!”

“I will. I just want you in bed,” Mick answered him, feeling rather like a parent.

He picked Joey up, carrying him back into the bedroom. The small man was practically asleep when he laid him on the bed, not even opening his eyes. He did manage to speak, though.

“You're staying here, right....”

Mick grasped Joey's hand, holding it between his own. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Goooodddd....” Joey managed to turn his head, opening his eyes slightly. “I want you here when I wake up.”

Mick could only smile.
Sign up to rate and review this story