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Take Me For a Little While

Summary:

Looks like it's turning out to be one shots, about the shortlived Coverdale Page era.

Shameless David Coverdale Jimmy Page sex, around the time the Coverdale Page album came out. I can't help it I love me some Coverdale haha.

Jimbert fans please don't hate me lol.

The idea kept humping my leg until I was able to scribble it out quickly.

Notes:

Jimmy reflects on some things.

And then some sexery.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Take Me For Now

Chapter Text

Take Me For a Little While

1

David Coverale's house, Lake Tahoe, 1993
He woke up in bed to the sound of an acoustic guitar being played and a husky baritone crooning, which still sometimes was jarring to him. Jimmy sat up, found it was around midday and a shirtless David cross legged in the floor across the room strumming, eyes closed as he sang. The voice was whiskey, bluesy, strong and naturally deep. He opened his eyes when he stopped playing, noticed Jimmy observing, then smiled.

He was gorgeous, no doubt, and took great pains with his appearance and public persona, all the drawn-out 'Darrrlings' of pretentiousness and over the top mannerisms and bouts of insecurity a grating annoyance at times, but Jimmy could forgive him. He could sing well against Jimmy's walls of guitars, he was amiable and admiring of Jimmy, and fucked like something wild. He noticed the lustful glitter in the guitarist's green eyes, tossed his hair and smirked coyly. Ever the flirt, even now, Jimmy thought. "You lazy laggard, are you up now?" he said, grinning, and got to his feet.

"You know how I feel about mornings," was the answer, then Jimmy yawned. His hair was a fright, he thought, running fingers through the ebony locks, but he was stopped by David sliding into bed beside him and holding him with those intense hazel eyes. They were earthy, dusty, a pale green shot through with caramel brown, so different than the eyes he was used to gazing into. It was moments like this, those striking eyes unhooded, the affectations dropped, that Jimmy loved.

"I was beginning to think," that rolling, whiskeyed voice spoke, "that I was going to have to just play with myself the rest of the day."

Ooh, Goddammit, Jimmy said to himself. There goes any thoughts of doing any practicing as the singer brought his lips to Jimmy's, softly, slowly, moaning just a little, fuck how is it he can be so forcefully masculine and such a little tease? Jimmy felt his body respond, his manhood twitching slowly to stiffness. The dark-haired man probed David's luscious mouth, and was further enticed by him opening his mouth wider, submitting, submitting to Jimmy's hands on the singer's bare torso, submitting to being pushed down, submitting to being stripped of constraining trousers that hid his engorged cock.

It was maddening, David was maddening in so many ways, good and bad. Jimmy was always surprised at David's willingness, his enormous sex drive, where Jimmy's had waned somewhat the past few years. Probably because he hadn't been able to enjoy a certain golden god in years, and groupies now tired him. But here, now, this compact, muscular body laid out before him, strong arms that could squeeze him breathless, wide shouldered, those amber/green eyes blazing with lust, he was ready. Gods, David was a prize, looking like this. Jimmy took hold of the singer's dick and stroked, to get a rumbling, low, almost bass groan, still a surprise to the dark wizard.

The younger man pulled Jimmy easily to him, kissed him, took him in hand, and they were locked together like this for a time, simultaneously pleasuring one another with their hands.

David then out of the blue flipped Jimmy off him onto his back, clambered on him straddling his hips, spat on his hand, slathered up and down Jimmy's dick, and impaled himself on its length. Just like that, raw and tight, working his hips like a damn porn star right out the gate. He threw his blond head back, howled like a fuckbeast, and set the headboard to thumping the wall. Jimmy nearly blacked out from sensory overload but shiiiiiiit who'd wanna miss this. Jimmy thrust up, deeper into the singer, getting more husky, gravelly moans and howls as he hit the right spot in David.

"Oh daddy, oh God, James. No, ah yeah, right there," David gasped out as he pushed himself up and down Jimmy's shaft. "That's it, Jimmy. Oh you fuck. You dirty fucker, oh, work it, naughty huss. Ahh you sleaze."

Oh the shit that comes out this geezer's mouth, Jimmy thought. David had called him mom, dad, JP, little fuckboo, saucetart, and nearly everything else in between. Robert could say some weird shit during sex, but this took the cake. Just took the whole cake and ate it. All while they rocked that bed until Jimmy was afraid they'd break the whole damn floor.

David now arched his back, his head thrown so far back he was nearly bent backwards, Jimmy marveling at his flexibility all the while. He gripped the singer's ass with one hand, stroked him with the other, all while pushing up into that delicious body. David howled as his cock erupted, covering Jimmy's hand and David's belly with thick white spunk, which he then put two fingers in and put in his mouth, tasting himself. He didn't miss a beat, but kept grinding on Jimmy while suckling on his own fingers.

Game over. Jimmy roared out his climax, spurting his essence deep into the blond man, who continued to ride him until the aftershocks of pleasure had subsided.

David pulled himself off Jimmy's now softening cock, collapsed, partially on top of his partner, gasping. They were covered in sweat and jizz but they were too wrung out to move at the moment. David squirmed into the older man's arms, cooing contentedly deep in his throat.

As usual, that was intense and a much needed release. As his breathing slowed, Jimmy thought, this is good. A musical partner to write and play with, a hellcat to shag him senseless, someone who stoked his ego and looked good on his arm, who was funny and accommodating.

It still wasn't enough.

Deep Purple era David Coverdale

Chapter 2: Breaking Down

Summary:

This is from Jimmy's point of view, when he first went to stay with David to begin the intiial writing process for what became the Coverdale Page album.

Gratuitous M/M sex and feelings lol.

Notes:

This is around March 1991, when the pair first started feeling each other out (heh). I don't remember a whole lot of that time as it's been a while, but I have dug around a bit to try to keep an accurate timeline of events.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Take Me For a Little While

2

David wasn't kidding about there being four seasons at his home in Lake Tahoe, I didn't realize that it would happen all in the same day. Snow, rain, and sunshine, all while I was visiting, while we were hammering out new songs. Day 2 of the fledgling project, and after checking into my hotel room not far from David's (he has renovations and family things going on, but they'll soon be gone) I discover that I left my scarf and some old tapes I'd put some riff ideas on that I wanted to listen to again at David's.

Ah, well, it would have to wait. I was kinda tired, anyway. I unpacked my bags, considering how things were going. I was happy to be able to write songs and play music with someone with talent and similar ideas. He's fantastic and shares a bluesy background with me. I didn't, however, expect how being around him would be. I'm not sure if because it's been so long since I'd last been with Robert or even much of anyone anymore, but David is so forward, so...touchy feely, maybe I'm reading too much into things.

The way he flipped his hair, let his hand linger on my shoulder or knee, brush against me as we moved around in his home studio. He seems so eager to impress me, to make this thing work, but I keep feeling like he's flirting with me. And what's more, I hope that's the case, because to be honest, he's sexy, gorgeous in fact. And then one step after that I'm thinking it's probably not a good idea since we have this musical collaboration we're trying to make happen, wouldn't that be...weird?

I mean, it's not like I haven't screwed my bandmates before, but I really need this to work, and I need a reliable chap to help with that. I need to make music, I need to be working, I must prove to myself that I still have it.

I flipped on the telly and undid the blue shirt I was wearing, thinking about having a hot shower, when I heard a knock at the door. I open the door, safety chain still on, to see David standing there smiling. He waved my black scarf with a flourish, and my case of tapes was clutched in his other hand. "It's just me, JP darling," came the blustery baritone.

I let him in, of course, seeing as how he'd driven here to bring my things, which I deposited on the desk. I thanked him and I find that he's made himself at home right on the bed, back against the headboard, crossing those delightful legs heel over ankle, still wearing the black cowboy boots with the chains. Now who does this remind me of? "David, what are you doing?"

"I'm taking a load off a moment before I head back to the homeplace. James, come here, dear," he pats the place beside him.

Picking up the pieces of self control that have crumbled to the floor, wondering what this loud, beautiful, stupid goon was on about, I join him him, trying not to notice how tight the tank top he's wearing is, or how nice his cologne smells. Or how pleasing the cascade of wavy blond hair looks spilling over his shoulders and down his back, or the biceps that are large and pronounced on his compact frame.

"You're a strange one," I tell him as I settle beside him.

"Says the guy who was in Led Zeppelin," he says, and flips his hair.

Bleeding hell David, stop that shit. It's really getting to me.

He's so close, our elbows touching, he's laughing at something on the TV and the only thing I notice is the curve of his lips as he smiles, and curiosity of what they would taste like. He must know what he's doing to me, he is not innocent as all that. Then he cocks his head at me and appraises me with those eyes (hazel eyes, I finally determine, green and brown and so liquid warm) and he does know, as he smirks and places a hand on my mostly bare chest under my unbuttoned shirt, to feel my heart as its racing.

"Well, well, JP. You have me all to yourself," he says. "Or am I completely wrong and I'm making a fool of myself?"

"Fool, no. Strumpet, yes," I find myself jabbing at him. Oh and he laughs, such a free, easy laugh, and I see the crafted character he's constructed over the years fall away, leaving a shy but eager kid from Yorkshire who despite his self-doubt dares much, risks much, wants to reach and take what he most desires. I am the one who takes though, as I throw caution and good sense to the wind and place my lips on his. He tastes of cigarettes and need, surprising me with his pliant want...this isn't him just wanting to fuck the great Jimmy Page, the great navigator of the mighty Zeppelin who wants to advance himself by using me, this association with me.

It's me he wants. Just me.

And I'm so lonely, so tired of the music game, the trying to get Robert to call me game (he continues to reject any idea of a Led Zeppelin reunion after all), the being bored of everyone and everything game. The ache, the growing hole in me has reached the point where it's so tempting to go back to a chemical induced haze, despite my long struggle to rid myself of those addictions. It was a hard road to take, and it drove away so many I cared about, Robert included.

The kiss, slow and steamy, lasts for minutes though it could've been hours. When he pulls back he searches my face, still a little unsure and hopeful. "David," my voice somehow remains even. "If you stay, I will fuck you senseless."

"That sounds so dirty coming from your mouth," he laughs again, making me love the sound. "Right, then," and he removes those ridiculous boots.

Then he's in my arms, and I peel off that painted on tank top, to trail kisses on that magnificent chest, and he's shucked my shirt the rest of the way off. It felt so good. The skin on skin, being touched at last, no giggly girl softness, no games, no worrying if I was too rough and will this add to the rumors of me beating women and drinking their blood and God only knows what else. We help each other out of the rest of our clothing, and I drink in the sight of him as he settles back into the bed. He's maybe my height, though with that voice and presence I expected someone taller, arms and legs shorter than what I'd grown used to these years but well muscled. My eyes reach his cock, stiffening under my gaze, that I need to get my hands and mouth on.

I'm direct and to the point, and the tart is moaning as I kiss him roughly, my hands roaming greedily over that spectacular body, so pliant and so sexy. He gives himself to me and I accept it, his dick is in my mouth as I suck him, and he loves it, squirms and carries on even after I graze the head of his shaft with my teeth just to see what he'd do. Oh this one is something. I dig my skinny fingers into his flesh as he's bucking his hips, his shaft driving deep into my throat as he skull fucks me and he doesn't care, he's moaning and it's not honey, not a high tenor, it's whiskey, it's fire and smoke. "Uunnh, JP you bastard, suck me," he grunted while I let him fuck my mouth. I feel his balls tense under my hand, followed by a melting, liquid howl.

I swallow his load down, raise up and kiss his half open mouth as he recovers. "JP," I snicker. "What should I call you? Dave? Mr. C?"

"After that, you can call me anything you want," David says.

"Ok, C," I tell him as I prep him for me. "Let me know if I hurt you and I'll back off." I wasn't sure if I'd be able to as I was so painfully, achingly hard now, but I'd try.

"Oh I want you to. Give me what you've got, Jimmy."

So I did. His ass is propped up with pillows, and he opens those well made thighs for me, and I entered him in one long thrust. He moans in encouragement, which at this point I didn't need any.

I nearly came right then with the husky, sexual sounds he's making. After a few moments I move in him.

The fierce submission, the need, me fucking him harder and harder and he begs for more, he wrapping those strong legs around me, I am caught up. I break him down as he breaks me down, into our core pieces, so that we may be rearranged, we may become whole again. I know how disillusioned he'd become about his band and about this new era of corporate music, and me, wounded guitar soldier, ex-junkie, fantastic success and failure that I am, is rendered moot.

There's just me fucking my new partner. I know I can leave marks on him, fuck him roughly, hold him down because he lets me, he's physically so strong, a coiled spring, but he submits. He's mine, because he wants to be. I accept the offering, as I won't take more than he can give.

I tell him I'm getting close and he wants me to pull out, he wants to see, he wants me to come on him. I oblige, decorating his cut abdomen with my essence, and he moans like the sluttiest slut who ever slutted.

Two broken, jaded souls, the jagged pieces being shuffled around and rebuilt into something stronger. I spend my last few spasms upon him as he stares, like he's turned on again after I'd already milked him dry.

We fucked again in the shower, and finally managed to get ourselves clean before collapsing back in bed.

Before we drift off to sleep we discuss the arrangement of the songs we'd already come up with, "Absolution Blues" and "Pride and Joy." There's more to him than many give him credit for.

The ache I carry with me isn't so heavy now. This is good.

***

A Jimmy from back in the day

Notes:

I decided to try something a little different, and attempt writing first person point of view. Hope it makes sense.

And made you tingly.

I love these two lol. My major thing is still Robert and Jimmy but I find David adorable lol.

Kudos, suggestions, cheese sammiches always welcome.

Notes:

Hope you guys enjoyed and are healthy and safe@

Normal rules apply, kudos, comments (be gentle) etc much appreciated.

I feel these two are cute together.

I still love my Page Plant true love though. Lol.