FicWad

Title: Anesthesia - Pulling Teeth
Part: Second story in a series. Follows Seek and Destroy. The series is called 'The Pain of Love'
Author/pseudonym: LadyLissa
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: James/Lars
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 second 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:
Warnings: slash (obviously), language (obviously), semi-consensual m/m sex


"What the fuck's wrong? Pixie, are you alright? Is he alright, Dave? What the fuck happened?" James asked as he jumped to his feet and raced across the room to Dave.

"Some asshole jumped him at the bar. I didn't get to the table quick enough to stop it." Dave muttered as he carried Lars over to the couch and gently placed him on it.

"I'm fine, fuckers." Lars said once Dave had set him down and backed away slightly. The worry on both their faces warmed his heart, but damnit, the both of them were hovering over him and looking him over closer than a doctor checking a patient.

"Fuck, baby, I should have been there sooner. I'm so sorry." Dave apologized yet again. Dave had been apologizing since they had left the bar, all the way back here and up the stairs. He would have given anything, taken the pain himself gladly, just so Lars wouldn't be hurting. And he was hurting, no matter what he said. Dave saw him wince several times, and he was sitting tight, not sprawled out like he normally did, and his eye was already starting to swell and bruise where he had been elbowed out of the way by onlookers.

"What do you mean someone attacked him? Who was it? I'll kill the fucking asshole!" James bitched, his expression changing between worrying looks towards Lars, half grateful/half pissed looks at Dave, and glaring at the door. He was so pissed at himself for not going with Lars. Had he been there, he could have protected him, taken care of him, made sure this hadn't happened. Without really realizing he was doing it he reached down and took Lars' hand in his own, throwing a fully pissed look at Dave as he realized that Dave was currently holding the other one.

"It's alright, Dave. I swear, I'm alright." Lars re-iterated once again before turning his face to James and grinning at him. "You don't have to kill him. Dave already taught him what happens when you mess with a member of Metallica." Lars continued, trying to defuse the anger and jealousy he saw on James's face towards Dave.

"What did you do?" James asked, not bothering to look at Dave, his entire focus on Lars. Fuck, bruised and bloody Lars was beautiful, especially when he grinned like that.

"I broke the bastard's leg. That'll teach him to kick m...Lars." Dave replied angrily. He couldn't help the surge of pride he felt when Lars turned and grinned at him, too, giggling and calling him his hero. Yeah, Lars was always saying shit like that, to all of them, really, but fuck if it didn't fill him with pride every time it was directed at him.

"Bastard fucking deserved it." James railed, visibly trying to calm himself down. If Dave had already handled the situation there was no need for him to go find the asshole and break his other leg, though fuck knows he wanted to. No, what was important now was Lars. Lars who was obviously still in pain and trying to hide it from the both of them.

James finally looked away from Lars and met Dave's eyes in understanding. Right now both men's priority was Lars, and their petty squabbles needed to be put aside long enough to take care of that.

Dave reluctantly released his hold on Lars' hand and headed for the cooler that served as a refrigerator for them and wrapped some ice in a rag . James took the time to lift Lars up from the couch that served as Cliff's bed, their only piece of furniture, and carry him over to his pallet on the floor. Dave came back and pressed the ice to Lars eye, shocking James with the gentleness he displayed as he carefully began to lay him back on the pallet and remove his boots.

"It's a black eye and a kick to the balls, fuckers. I'll live without the fucking fragile treatment." Lars snapped, beginning to grow weary of the way both of them were treating him. He wasn't going to fucking break, but both of them were treating him like he was. He noticed the twin snarls both men gave and realized his mistake. Fuck, James didn't know about the kick, and Dave probably shouldn't have been reminded of it as that had been what caused him to snap at the bar.

Lars sighed and just closed his eyes. Fuck it, he wasn't feeling like dealing with anger out of either of them any more than he felt like dealing with the fragile treatment. Maybe if he just slept, they would get the hint and straighten up before he woke up again.

Dave noticed Lars wanted to be left alone and reluctantly pulled to his feet, moving back over to the cooler and grabbing himself a beer. After taking a long swallow of it, he turned and looked at James who was covering Lars with his own thin blanket and grabbed a second one. Things were going to come to a head between himself and James any time now, he just knew it. Both men wanted the tiny Dane, and neither were the kind to share. The thing he wanted to avoid was having it out in Lars presence, forcing him to become involved. Lars likely didn't know how either man felt, and he didn't want to hurt him any more than necessary. Hopefully they could settle it peacefully without ever letting him know, but Dave was beginning to wonder if that would be possible.

James tucked the blanket around Lars, partially to keep him warm and partially to touch him. He wanted to touch him so badly right now, to remind Lars, and himself, just who Lars belonged to. Also to assure himself that Lars really was alright. He couldn't though, not even so much as drop his head down and kiss him. "I'll be back, my little Pixie." He murmured quietly, risking a moment to stroke his hand over Lars's hair softly before drawing himself to his feet and turning and walking over towards Dave.

Dave drank the last of his beer and pitched the empty can in the overflowing trash can next to the cooler before grabbing two more and heading over to meet James halfway. He silently handed the second can over to James and opened his own, flashing him a quick grin in response to the curt thanks James gave him. Damn, this was fucked up, and he didn't know how to handle the situation, so he did the same thing he had been doing here recently, absolutely nothing, instead he proceeded to get drunk once again, having lost his buzz over the situation with Lars.

One beer turned into two, and two turned into four, four turned into ten, and eventually Dave was passing out in his own pallet. Cliff had come back about an hour before and passed out almost immediately. James pulled to his feet and staggered over to Lars' pallet, looking down at him curled up on his side like an innocent little angel. James lowered himself to the floor next to him, taking care to be quiet so that he wouldn't wake anyone else.

"Fucking took you long enough, Missekat." Lars whispered as James drew him into his arms.

"Had to wait till Dave went to sleep." James slurred quietly.

"We got to tell Dave, James. We should probably tell Cliff too." Lars whispered back. He wasn't sure how James was going to respond to that, and he was a little nervous about it. James wasn't the type to let others know about what he considered to be his business or his private life. Lars only hoped that he could get him to listen and understand why he wanted to let the others know.

"Now why the fuck would we want to do that?" James growled angrily. He was too fucking drunk to be having this conversation with Lars. Lars knew damn good and well how he felt about telling people. They could guess all they wanted and he would never deny it, fuck knows he wouldn't, that would be an insult to Lars. He wasn't going to go out and advertise the shit, either.

"Listen to me, fucker. I'm not saying that we should take out an article in the fucking New York Times and tell the fucking world. I'm just saying that we shouldn't be so secretive with Cliff and Dave." Lars hissed back.

"I repeat, why the fuck would we want to do that?" James growled. He was growing angrier with the conversation. He didn't do talking and feelings. Lars knew how he felt, though he didn't tell him, and to him that was all that mattered. Lars fucking knew that too. He had made it clear when all this shit happened between them.

Lars sighed, knowing that James was growing uncomfortable. His arms had tightened around him to the point that it was almost painful and he was stiff as a board, tense. James hated talking about emotions or feelings, or much of anything, really. He was the quietest fucker he had ever met, though he would actually say more to Lars than he would to anyone else on the planet. He guessed that was probably another good thing about them together, though. Fuck knows Lars never shut up; he talked constantly about anything and everything. Damn, he guessed he was going to have to tell James everything.

"James, we need to. Dave is, fuck, I don't know. Look, he seems like he's interested in me. I might be wrong, I don't know. He hasn't said anything directly about it yet. I just want to let him know that he shouldn't. I don't want this shit to cause problems with the band, you know? That way he never says anything, he moves past it, and he's not embarrassed or any other shit. Besides, don't you get tired of having to wait till we're alone or everyone else is asleep to fuck? I know I worry every time I'm going to wake someone up." Lars pleaded quietly.

James tensed even further at this new information. Dave wanted Lars? Dave wanted his Lars? Oh hell fucking no. They may all be brothers, but there were some things he just wasn't willing to share. And what the hell was going on. Lars knew Dave wanted him but hadn't done anything to stop it yet? Was that why Dave had hurt that guy tonight? Had Dave been following Lars to the club, or had they been there together? Had he been sober that thought would never have occurred to James, but drunk he was beginning to worry that Lars was telling him that they had to come out to the others or Lars was gonna go to Dave and leave him.

"You're mine, damnit! Fucking MINE!" James hissed angrily, deliberately tightening his arms further around Lars, pressing him closer. In the back of his mind he knew he was probably hurting Lars, and he was probably having problems breathing as well, but at that moment he didn't care. He wanted to be sure that he knew who he belonged to. Fuck, he guessed he'd have to show him, just in case.

Lars tried answering James, but as tightly as he was holding him there was no way to answer him so he settled for lying passively in James' painful embrace, not fighting to free himself. After several long moments of fighting for air, James' grip began to loosen, but Lars saw James glaring angrily over to where Dave lay a few feet away, sleeping. He knew from the look on James face that he was considering going over and painfully waking the guitarist up, and in a move of desperation he lifted his head and latched onto James' shoulder, drawing his attention back to himself. He knew what was going to happen; he knew James' anger would be vented on him along with the passion. He was willing to pay that price, however, if it would keep everything alright between all of them.

James felt Lars mouth attaching to his shoulder and looked back down at him, all his attention once again focused on Lars. Anger, passion, need, possessiveness all whirled through him as he looked down at him. He felt the need to claim him brutally, to stake his claim of ownership so deeply and completely that the tiny drummer would never forget who it was he belonged to again. One hand came up and he pushed Lars down to the floor once again, his head hitting the hard surface with a thud. For an instant he looked deeply into those dazed, cloudy hazel eyes, measuring him. Then he was lost.

His mouth crashed down to Lars', kissing him deeply, biting at his lips sharply, his tongue snaking out to thrust deeply into his mouth, growling at the taste of his blood from where his lip split at the kiss. Still holding Lars down with one hand which James was using for balance, he used the other to begin ripping the clothes from Lars' body, literally shredding them off the smaller man, his nails scoring his flesh, leaving deep ragged nail marks in their wake in his haste.

Lars whimpered into James' mouth in protest. He was already in some pain from earlier this evening and James was hurting him. He was going to have bruises on his shoulder where James' fingers were tightly gripping him and holding him still beneath him, and the scratches on his body were stinging. Lars bit at James's tongue trying to get him to stop, or at least gentle what he was doing, but that just caused James to lift his head and slap him before going back to kissing him, effectively muffling his protests with his mouth.

James lifted up above Lars, his free hand coming down between them to his own jeans and jerking them open. His eyes were wild and unfocused, everything around them was hazy and he couldn't make it out. He took a deep breath, trying to focus, something felt wrong to him, but he didn't know what it was. Unable to figure it out, he lifted Lars legs up and draped his legs over his shoulders, lining his cock up with his entrance and driving hard and deep into his unprepared body.

Lars screamed once in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks, as James thrust into him, ripping him open. He opened his mouth to scream again, but looking up at James, he just couldn't do it. If anyone woke up and saw the state they were in there would be no questions in anyone's mind that James was raping him. He loved James too much to do that to him. James wasn't really raping him. Yeah, okay, so he didn't really want this right now, and definitely not in this way, but James wasn't himself right now. He was drunker than Lars had ever seen him, and he was angry. Besides, he had brought this upon himself; he had known James would be rough when he had turned his attention back upon himself. True, he hadn't known he would be this brutal, but he had pushed him.

James didn't pause as he bottomed out inside Lars body; he just pulled out to the head and thrust back inside as deeply as he could. The need to possess him so completely that everyone even looking at him would know he was off limits was so strong he could barely breathe with it. He thrust into him over and over, hard, fast, and deep.

Slowly Lars face came into focus for James and his heart nearly stopped at the sight of the tears streaming down his face, the shock and pain radiating from his eyes. He was too far gone to stop, though he did try to convince himself to do so. When that failed he changed the angle of his thrusts, driving straight into Lars' prostate, his free hand coming between their bodies to fondle his cock into hardness before beginning to stroke him fast and tight.

Lars' body reacted to James even through the pain. He still didn't want this, he hurt too badly, but James obviously did, and there was nothing that would stop him from giving it to him. He used every trick he could think of however to end it as quickly as possible. He thrust hard and fast up to James, he clenched tight around him rhythmically, he looked directly into James' eyes and locked out the rest of the world, losing himself in a fantasy where James actually told him, with words, that he loved him. Unbelievably that was what did it for Lars, hearing James' fantasy voice in his head saying that he loved Lars sent him over the edge.

That seemed to be all James was waiting for because he buried himself as deeply inside Lars as he could one final time and exploded, filling him with his essence with a possessive growl. Spent, he collapsed on top of the petite man for a moment, kissing him softly in contrast to the brutal way he had just claimed him before shifting to the side and falling almost immediately into a state somewhere between sleep and unconsciousness.

Lars lay there for a few minutes, letting his body acclimate the pain before pushing it to the side as much as he could. Carefully he climbed to his feet and staggered to the bathroom, cleaning himself up as much as possible before returning to the main room and cleaning up the evidence of what had happened.

Gingerly he pulled on a pair of joggers and took the shredded clothes outside and threw them into the garbage, burying them under some bags so they would not be found. When he returned inside he staggered back over to James, looking around the room one last time to make sure that Dave and Cliff hadn't woken and seen what happened, but both men appeared to still be out of it. Slowly he lowered himself to his pallet once again, snuggling into James' arms and reaching down to zip him back up. Considering James had given him his blankets, he didn't think anyone would find them sleeping together strange. If they did, fuck them, he needed the comfort being near James gave him, even if he was looking for comfort from being hurt by James. Deliberately he relaxed his body and tried to find the sweet release of sleep.

End.