Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 8- A Croak and A Grunt In The Night

Breathe as deeply as you can
I'd dig to set you free
I want you to touch the sky
And blow your dreams on me

"You ready?" I asked Kirk as they were ready to go onstage.

"Never been readier." He answered and gave me a peck on my lips. "Find a nice seat and I'll meet you there OK? And if anyone tries to do shit to you just call me and I'll come right over and beat them up."

"OK, I will." I laughed and went off to find Trevor and the guys.

James introduced themselves and I cheered them on. They opened with seek and destroy, James, making weird faces while Cliff dedicatedly headbanged.

Kirk wore leather pants and a white shirt, half buttoned up, revealing his sweaty chest. His curls falling in his face as he headbanged was the hottest thing I've seen him do tonight. I can't imagine how anyone could ever let him go but now he was mine, all mine and I'm never letting him slip out of my grip.

They finished up with my favorite song off their album, the four horsemen. It had a catchy riff, killer lyrics, and aggressiveness- the ultimate combination.

I smiled, clapping my hand as Kirk came running back to me. Sweaty. Flustered. Absolutely breathtaking.

"Hey, baby," Kirk said as he sat down next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Hi, Hammett. Killer show." I mumbled as he took a swig of my whisky.

"Was I good?" He asked me, almost out of breath.

I nodded, cupping the back of his neck and and pressing his lips against mine in a fiery kiss.

He pulled away, his cheeks rosy red as James wolf-whistled. I never realized how shy he got when I initiated any PDA. Whether it was holding his hands, or kissing his cheeks, he always smiled like a drunk teenager, accompanied by blushing.

"Goddammit, can you guys do this somewhere else." Lars snapped and I quickly pulled away, muttering strings of apologies. Kirk brushed it off, clearly uninterested in what he had to say.

I hated Lars. He and I never got along, but the worst part was that he was constantly around. When I woke up he was sleeping on our couch, when we went out he was right by our side.

I couldn't blame Kirk, I was tight with my band mates, but there was just something with that smug look on his face that was just begging to be punched.

I pressed my lips into a thin line as Kirk drew a line on the table, before downing the remnants of his beer in one go.

I always told myself that I was hardcore, but this- this was madness.

"Why don't we..." Kirk whispered into my ear, "Take this somewhere else?"

Maybe it's the whisky or maybe it's the sexual tension from earlier on, but before I know it, we're both stumbling into the cramped bathroom stall, his hands on me as soon as I got the door. One gripped my top and one my waist, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. His hands soon snaked up my shirt, squeezing my tits and toying with my hard nipples.

I moaned into his mouth and he broke the kiss, lifting my shirt above my head. I do the same to him, and once again his mouth is on me, this time on my neck. He peppered kisses from my jawline down to my collarbones and I hum into his hair, hands roaming his chest.

I pulled away and get onto my knees, dragging down his pants, hard-on visible through his leather pants. I kiss along his inner thighs and pull down his underwear. Gripping the base of his dick, I licked the tip painfully slow.