Jameson // Metallica

THE PERILS OF BOREDOM

James was bored. He was also drunk, which combined with his boredom to form a lethal cocktail to anyone that was around him. Tonight, the only one around seemed to be Jason. James wondered blearily what the fuck the Newkid was doing in his hotel room…was he jerking off to some fag porn? Maybe he had cried himself to sleep after his shit-ass performance earlier? Either way, James was bored, and that meant that Jason would be his entertainment.

He knocked heavily on Jason’s hotel room door, bellowing “hey Newkid! Open the fucking door!”

From inside came a muffled but clearly annoyed “Why?”

What the fuck? James thought. “ ‘Cause if you don’t open the goddamn door this fucking second, I have no fucking problem breaking down the motherfucking door” he yelled. There was a shuffling noise, and just as James was about to pound on the door again, it opened.

“James. What the fuck do you want?” asked Jason, obviously frustrated. He was in his boxers and his lean body glowed with a light sheen of sweat.

James leered drunkenly. “What were you doing, fag? Giving yourself a good handfuck?”

Jason looked disgusted. “I was exercising. Look, if you’re going to be a fucking dick, just leave me the fuck alone.” He started to close the door, but was stopped as James pushed his weight against it.

“Fuck that noise. I need company and you’re it, so fucking shut your mouth and let me in.” James thrust his way into the room, pushing past a reluctant but now resigned Jason, and settling himself onto the rickety bed. “Whatcha got on the boob tube Newkid? Any good porn on tonight?” He flicked on the TV via remote and began surfing the channels.

Jason finally closed the door and walked across the room, flipping James the bird as he passed. “I wouldn’t fucking know, I haven’t been watching any TV tonight.” Deciding just to ignore the irritating drunk sprawled across his bed, Jason knelt and returned to his regime of pushups that had been so rudely interrupted.

After flipping past the news and a game show, James finally found a good channel. The chick was being fucked by the guy, and was moaning like a bitch in heat. Yeah, this is what it was about. He could feel his dick getting hard, and he licked his lips, imagining that he was the one fucking the girl. Her tits were a little on the small side, but those noises she was making was enough to override that fact.

Shifting a little on the bed, James glanced down to see Jason still doing pushups. Dumbfuck. “Hey you gonna watch this Newkid? Pretty fucking hot shit.”

“Nope,” Jason said, not even looking up. The stupid shit wasn’t even interested in the show. Probably was gay, James decided. Back on screen, the slut was getting pumped in the ass by the guy. Absofuckinglutely hot. For some reason, James had always had a secret fetish for ass-fucking, but the chicks that were into that kinda shit were few and far between. The few times he had done it, the pleasure had been fucking insane. Just remembering the experience made his cock throb and swell even bigger inside his already tight jeans, despite the alcohol he had consumed earlier. His hand was on the bulge before he even knew it had moved. Caught up in his fantasy of ass-fucking the girl onscreen, James was about to unzip his fly and take out his dick when he remembered that he was not alone.

His eyes reluctantly pulled away from the action onscreen to the room’s other occupant, who was still cranking out the pushups, still seemingly oblivious. Damn, the kid is like a fucking machine, James thought, actually impressed with his stamina. Jason’s long muscles clenched and gleamed with sweat as he raised and lowered himself, and his sweaty boxers clung to the curves of his ass. James had always thought that his bassist was kinda scrawny, but looking at him now he realized that his thinness belied the fact that he was actually a bunch of lean, wiry muscles. Jason’s usually curly red hair had been made even curlier with sweat, and it stuck to his shoulders and fell in front of his face like a curtain, obscuring his view of James. Realizing that he wasn’t being observed, James’ hand reflexively clenched around his cock, making him bite back a groan. He might be drunk, but he still knew he would be kicked out of the room if Jason heard him jacking off. Reasoning that it was too risky to take out his cock, James settled for jerking himself through the jeans. In the background, the chick was moaning and begging for the guy to fuck her ass harder. James wanted to watch the show, but for some reason his eyes remained glued on Jason. It’s just to make sure he doesn’t look at me, he told himself, blatantly ignoring the fact that his gaze was trained on Jason’s ass, which was clenched in effort. Then something happened that James would later blame on his intoxicated state: unbidden, an image came to his mind. James was fucking someone in the ass, but instead of the porn slut it was Jason’s sculpted ass thrusting back against him, Jason’s soft hair he was pulling, Jason’s moans he was…

Oh fuck, what was that? He heard a new sound, one that made him thrust even harder into his hand. Jason was growling - fucking growling. His pushups were slowing, and James could see his arm muscles were trembling. The low guttural growl came every time he pushed himself up, as if he were willing himself to complete the motion. It had to be the hottest fucking noise James had ever heard. His breathing became harsh as he listened to the combined noise of the bitch’s moans and Jason’s growls. Harder! Harder! the slut screamed, and in his head it was Jason screaming, Jason begging James to fuck him harder. James complied, jerking his cock harder and faster as he watched the pale muscles in Jason’s back coil and retract for two last slow pushups. He knew he was on the edge of orgasm, could feel it starting to thrum and pulse through him like every fucking nerve was tuned toward his dick. Then Jason lowered himself to the ground for a second before pushing his arms back up, keeping his legs and pelvis on the floor and throwing his head and hair back to look up at the ceiling. His back was arched, his eyes closed and his teeth were bared in an expression that could have been either pleasure or pain. It didn’t matter to James, because the sight was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen. Then Jason emitted an unearthly howl that sent an electric current directly to James’ cock, and it exploded in an orgasm that surpassed every other that he could remember. “Motherfucker!” he hissed, clenching his teeth to keep from yelling. Shit, shit shit. It felt so fucking good that for a moment, James didn’t even care if Jason saw him. His eyes fluttered shut, and he licked his lips, his mouth feeling dry from breathing heavy and booze.

As James slowly came out of his euphoria, he heard a scuffle on the rug, then a tired “I’m taking a fucking shower.” He opened his eyes in time to catch Jason’s back as he walked into the bathroom and slammed the door. The loud noise was enough to bring James momentarily out of his stupor. He looked down and realized that his crotch was wet, the porn movie was finished, and he had just jacked off while fantasizing about fucking his bassist. What the fucking hell?

James hauled himself to his feet and stumbled toward the door. The shower was running, and as he passed the bathroom he could hear Jason singing “come sweet death, one last caress…I’ve got something to say…” James ripped open the door and shut it quickly behind him, then leaned back against it. Jesus motherfucking Christ. What had he done? Fucking jerking off and thinking of Newkid? It’s the alcohol, he thought. I’m drunk, I am not gay. I am not gay. I am not fucking gay! He repeated the mantra to himself as he walked back to his room, took off his jeans and underwear, and crawled into bed. He’s the fucking fag, not me! I am not fucking gay! Still trying to convince himself, James passed out.

That night, he dreamed of red curls, lean muscles, and a growling voice.

Fuck.