Right Hand On My Heart

Growing Conspiracy

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Older Man/Younger Man, Sexual Tension, Sugar Daddy, Gentle Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Crying, Crimes & Criminals, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Threats of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Flirting, Heavy Angst, Rough Sex, Arguing, Emotional Constipation, Banter, Infidelity, Sexual Confusion, Lapdance, Dirty Dancing, Making Out, Biting, Nipple Play, Grinding, Dry Humping 

Notes: Originally posted on my Ao3 account as DaveCumstaine (refer to external link at the bottom).

 Title inspired by The Whigs song of the same name. This story takes place in a modern setting and contains KEA era Kirk while Dave and James are both around 40 (because reasons). Really not sure how long this story will be or how frequent updates will come, but I'll try my best!

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"I'm so glad you could make it today," Dave sighs with relief, walking over to shake his guest's hand. "You wanna drink?"

"Thought you'd never ask," came the snarky reply.

Dave shuts the door to his study and makes his way over to the cabinet that perfectly displays the quaint little selection of whiskeys and brandys. He pours himself and his friends a drink before taking a seat behind his desk and gestures for the other man to follow suit. They both down their drinks promptly.

"So what's this about, Dave? Why all the secrecy?"

"Just give me a second to collect my thoughts," Dave dismisses, but his visitor complies all the same.

Dave Mustaine is a wealthy man. He runs the biggest and most prestigious club in Los Angeles. And, sure, maybe he had to step on a few toes along the way to get where he is today, but in this business you're bound to make some enemies. Except sometimes you never really know who those enemies are. They could be the obvious competition, other establishments trying to make a name for themselves, but more often than not it's your own people. Dave was paranoid to a fault, never truly trusting those under his employ, so to say this past week has been hell on Dave, would be an understatement.

"I know you and I have been friends for a really long time. I'd like to think that I can trust you, James," Dave says after a moment.

"And you know that trust goes both ways," James adds.

"I'm sorry if I freaked you out the other day. I know I was being cryptic as shit when I called but like I said, wasn't sure who I could trust at the time," Dave explains, pouring them both another drink.

He's known James since he started this business twenty years ago. At the time neither of them realized just how cutthroat it really is, but they adapted quickly. They both did things they weren't particularly proud of, that's just the way the world is sometimes, but James had always stuck by his side through thick and thin. James even got busted for something Dave was responsible for and went away to prison for three years because of it. But did James roll over him? Rat him out? Snitch?...

James was probably the only person he could fully trust with his life right now.

"I'm still not a hundred percent," Dave admits, expressing some doubt, but it isn't directed at James. More to himself. "I should have my fucking head examined."

"Slow down, man. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning," James tells him calmly. "What's going on?"

"Someone's trying to sabotage me, James. I know it. I can fucking feel it in my bones," Dave says, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass before taking a swig.