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The rain hammered against the windows, relentless and cold, as Lars poured another glass of whiskey, savoring the warmth it offered.
The room was dim, lit only by the low glow of the lamp beside the couch, where James sprawled like he owned the place—because, in a way, he always made everywhere feel like it was his. He sat with his legs spread wide, one arm thrown over the backrest, the corners of his mouth lifting in a lazy smirk as he watched Lars move.
„Pour me one." James ordered, voice thick and demanding without a hint of politeness.
Lars arched an eyebrow, his lip curling as he made a show of his displeasure. He hated the way James „asked" for things, always so entitled—but it didn't stop him from reaching for another glass. „What's the magic word?"
James snorted. „Now."
Lars rolled his eyes but poured the drink anyway, stepping close enough to feel James' heat as he handed it over. Their fingers brushed for a fraction of a second, and Lars didn't pull away.
He felt James' gaze linger on him, hot and possessive, a flicker of something dangerous hiding behind his grin. The weight of it sent a thrill down Lars' spine that he wouldn't acknowledge, not out loud.
„You always bark orders like that?" Lars asked, his tone sharp and teasing. He perched on the arm of the couch, close but not too close. „Maybe I should start charging for room service."
James raised his glass, taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving Lars. „Maybe you like it when I tell you what to do."
Lars felt his pulse quicken, but he smirked, leaning just a little closer. „Maybe I do."
The unspoken tension crackled between them, heavy and thick, filling the space with something dangerous and electric. James tilted his head, his eyes darkening, his hand twitching slightly like he was ready to grab Lars and pull him in—but before he could act on it, there was a sharp knock at the door.
Lars' head snapped toward the sound, his brow furrowing. His eyes flicked back to James, who had already stiffened, the smirk slipping from his face like a mask falling away. „Expecting someone?" James asked, his tone suspicious.
Lars pushed off the couch with a huff. „No.." he muttered, walking toward the door. The rain lashed harder as he opened it—and there, standing on the porch with a smug grin and soaked to the bone, was Dave.
„Hey, little bird." Dave's voice was all sharp edges and wicked delight. He ran a hand through his dripping hair, shaking water everywhere without a care. „Miss me?"
Lars' grimace deepened. „Oh, great." he deadpanned. „The reunion nobody wanted."
Dave's grin widened as he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation. „I couldn't resist the charm of your invite. Oh, wait—" He smirked. „You didn't send one."
From the couch, James' eyes narrowed, his whole body tensing like a predator ready to pounce. „He doesn't need to be here."
Dave's gaze flicked to James, his smile sharpening into something predatory. „Neither do you, but here we are." He peeled off his soaked jacket, tossing it onto a chair like he owned the place.
„You've still got my shirt here somewhere, right?" He turned to Lars with a wicked glint in his eye. „The one I left last time?"
James' jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the glass so hard Lars thought it might shatter. His eyes burned with something dark and dangerous as they fixed on Dave.
„What shirt?" His voice was low, a growl simmering just beneath the surface.
Dave shrugged, his grin widening. „Oh, you know. Left one here the other night." He didn't elaborate, but the implication hung heavy in the air, dripping with meaning.
Lars felt the weight of both men's presence pressing down on him, filling the room with their heat and tension. They were tall, broad, commanding in ways that made him feel small—but small in a way that made his heart race, his breath catch.
James, all brute strength and stubborn fury, and Dave, sharp and calculating, a storm in human form. He hated how much he liked being caught between them.
James leaned forward, placing his glass down with a deliberate clink. „Funny. I don't remember you being invited over."
Dave snorted. „I don't need an invitation." He let his eyes flick to Lars, his grin turning almost affectionate. „Do I?"
Lars felt his cheeks flush, but he sneered, trying to cover it up. „You're a pain in my ass."
Dave's eyes twinkled. „You didn't seem to mind before."
James' fists curled. He stood, towering over both of them, his eyes locked on Dave like a wolf ready to rip out a rival's throat. „Maybe it's time you leave."
Dave cocked his head, unbothered by the threat. He met James' glare with a smirk, the challenge clear in his eyes. „Maybe it's time you make me."
The rain outside beat harder against the windows as the storm inside the room brewed, tension thick and suffocating. Lars' breath caught as he stood between them, his heart pounding. They were too much—too big, too strong, too filled with rage and unresolved hunger.
And he loved every second of it.
The storm outside howled as James and Dave squared off, the air between them crackling with a tension that had nothing to do with the weather. Lars stood by the kitchen counter, whiskey glass halfway to his lips, as he watched the scene unfold. His pulse quickened, heart thudding against his ribs like a drumbeat.
„Still bitter, Mustaine?" James' voice was a low snarl, thick with derision. He leaned forward, his broad shoulders casting a shadow across the room. His jaw tightened, the muscle ticking under his skin as he glared at Dave. „Get over it."
Dave, infuriatingly calm, barely blinked. His smirk was sharp as broken glass. „I did." he shot back, voice dripping venom. „You're the one still talking about it."
James clenched his fists at his sides, the tendons flexing in his forearms as if he were holding himself back from throwing the first punch. His chest rose and fell, breath heavy with contained fury, his whole body coiled like a spring.
Lars' fingers trembled slightly as he set his glass down with a clink, barely suppressing a smirk. This was perfect. Every word was a spark to the fire, a powder keg waiting to blow. He should have been annoyed. He was annoyed. But that wasn't the whole truth.
„Jesus Christ.." Lars drawled, rolling his eyes so hard it almost hurt. He crossed his arms, affecting nonchalance even as heat prickled under his skin. „Would you two just punch each other already? It'd be less annoying than this endless pissing contest."
Neither of them laughed. James' eyes darkened, his gaze flicking toward Lars for a split second before locking back on Dave. His lip curled. „If I wanted to fight, it'd be over in one hit."
Dave tilted his head, a dangerous grin spreading slow and deliberate across his face. His eyes glimmered with a challenge, pure and sharp. „Oh, sure, Het. Like you've got the guts."
Lars swallowed hard, his breath quickening. The size difference between himself and the two men had never felt more apparent. James and Dave loomed—towering figures, tense and powerful, their broad frames cutting imposing silhouettes against the dim light. Even the way they stood made his stomach flip.
James with his intimidating bulk and stiff posture, a growling wolf ready to lunge; Dave, leaner but no less dangerous, sharp-edged and precise, every inch of him a weapon.
And Lars? Lars was small, compact, wiry with restless energy but always the smallest in the room. He'd spent his life building empires from behind a drum kit, knowing exactly how to pull strings from his modest height. But right now, pressed between James' raw strength and Dave's poisonous wit, he felt utterly alive.
James' voice dropped an octave, quiet and heavy with a kind of heat Lars recognized too well. „You sure you want to finish this, Mustaine?"
Dave's smile didn't waver. He took a step closer—just one, but enough to press into James' space, their bodies nearly touching. His eyes never left James' face, the grin faltering only into something more dangerous, more real. „I already finished it. You just hate losing."
The air grew thick, and Lars felt his breath catch. He shifted on his feet, trying to mask the flush creeping up his neck. His hand curled into a fist at his side, nails biting into his palm to anchor himself against the surge of adrenaline. His mouth felt dry.
„Wow." he said, his voice tight, sarcasm as flimsy as tissue paper. „This is really mature, you guys. How old are we? Fifteen?"
Neither man answered, but James' nostrils flared, and Dave's smirk curled deeper. The tension between them wasn't just rage—it was something messier, older, tied with too many knots to unravel easily. Lars watched James' eyes flicker down Dave's chest for a heartbeat too long, the moment passing like a ghost.
Lars licked his lips, swallowing the tremor in his voice. „Honestly. You're both pathetic."
James' hand twitched, his knuckles brushing against Dave's arm before he pulled back sharply, as if burned. „Shut up, Ulrich."
Dave raised an eyebrow, glancing sideways at Lars with a smirk that was pure trouble. His eyes lingered, dragging over Lars' frame like he was appraising him. „Yeah, Ulrich." he drawled. „Stay out of grown-up business."
Lars felt his breath catch again, heat blooming low in his stomach. He wanted to shove them apart—or maybe shove them together. He hated how small he felt, how easily they towered over him, but he couldn't look away from their broad shoulders, their clenched jaws, the sheer weight of them. Every flick of muscle, every shift of stance, had him jittery, restless, heart hammering.
But that was the problem with storms—you wanted to be in the eye of them, even when you knew it'd tear you apart.
He leaned back against the arm of the couch, legs crossed, drink in hand, projecting a calm he didn't feel. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the glass, and his eyes darted between James and Dave, who had squared off like old enemies locked in a duel only they could understand.
The air between them simmered—something too raw, too personal—and Lars was caught right in the middle.
James' glare burned like a live wire, his jaw tight as he spat, „I moved on, Mustaine. You're the one still whining about it." His fists clenched, flexing with a strength that made the veins in his arms stand out, muscles taut as if he was seconds from lunging.
Dave didn't flinch. His smirk deepened, cold and cutting, his eyes narrowing with predatory focus. „Moved on?" he sneered, voice dripping with disdain.
„Is that what you call it? Tell me, Het—how's that working out for you?" He gestured vaguely at the room, smirk widening. „From what I hear, it's been... frustrating. Can't quite finish the job, huh?"
James stiffened, his breath hitching just enough for Lars to notice. The brief flicker of shame, gone in a blink but unmistakable, sent a bolt of something through Lars. This is about more than a band, more than egos and old grudges.
„You don't know what the hell you're talking about." James growled. His voice dropped lower, rougher, and it made Lars' skin prickle.
He took a step closer to Dave, invading his space, the heat of him palpable even from across the room. „You're still hung up because I threw you out. Get over it."
Dave's grin turned wolfish, teeth bared in a smile that wasn't friendly. „Threw me out?" His laugh was sharp, bitter. „Oh, you definitely threw something out. Then you spent months trying to find someone else to—"
His gaze flicked to Lars, pointed, deliberate.
„—keep up. And what did you get instead? A brat who talks too much and a bed that's a little too cold."
Lars inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on his glass until the ice clinked against the sides. His face flushed, and anger simmered beneath his skin, sharp and immediate. „Screw you, Mustaine!" he snapped, voice razor-thin. „You don't know anything."
But the smirk Dave threw his way wasn't for him. It was still for James, who looked like he wanted to punch a hole through the wall—or maybe through Dave's smirking face.
„Don't I?" Dave asked, feigning innocence. He turned his full attention back to James, his eyes gleaming. „I remember the way you used to beg, Hetfield. Remember that? Couldn't get enough—couldn't get it at all—until I—"
„Shut up." James' voice cracked like a whip, pure fury barely held in check. His hands twitched, the restraint clear in every rigid line of his body.
Lars felt like he was standing on a fault line, the ground about to split open under his feet. The tension between James and Dave had always been suffocating, but this was different.
This wasn't just about the past. This was something darker, deeper—uglier. And as much as it pissed him off, it also left him trembling in a way that made him furious with himself.
„They're both so... big.." Lars thought, his frustration twisting into a gnawing, dangerous heat.
James was huge, towering, a mass of strength and temper that could crush a man. Dave was leaner, sharper, but no less imposing, his presence filling the room with a force that made Lars feel cornered, trapped.
„How the hell am I supposed to feel in control when I'm stuck between two human mountains who treat me like I'm some yappy dog?"
James' eyes burned into Dave, but his words—delivered through clenched teeth—were a snarl aimed at Lars, who could feel the weight of them settle in his chest. „You let him in here?" His voice was venomous. „You let him just... walk in?"
Lars' grin was tight, a mask for the searing mess under his skin. „What, are you jealous?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but his heart pounded. „Afraid I'll like him more than I like you?" .
James shoved his glass onto the table, ice sloshing, and took another step toward Lars, close enough that Lars had to tilt his head back to keep eye contact.
„He's using you, Lars." James growled, every syllable laced with something Lars recognized—possession. His nostrils flared. „You're a toy to him. A fucking pawn."
Lars' breath hitched, his pulse thundering. He should have laughed, should have throw another jab, but his mouth was dry. „And you?" he managed, voice thin. „What am I to you, James?"
James opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Dave's laughter cut through the thick silence. It was cold, sharp, and triumphant.
„You've got it bad, don't you, Jamie?" He leaned lazily against the wall, arms crossed, his smirk widening. „Maybe I should get jealous."
James' fist clenched. Lars could see the tendons straining under his skin, the heat rolling off him like a furnace. He moved to tower over Dave, his chest heaving, the tension between them like a live wire about to snap.
They were close—too close—so close that Lars felt the heat rolling off their bodies even from his spot on the couch. The storm outside had nothing on the fury brewing between them.
James' lips curled into a snarl, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. „Why don't you just leave?" His voice was low, dangerous, every syllable weighted with contempt.
Dave tilted his head, his smirk infuriatingly calm, eyes gleaming with something sharper than amusement. „Why don't you make me?" His voice was a taunt, smooth and venomous. He didn't budge an inch, the tension between them electric, a crackling charge of anger, history, and something else—something hotter.
Lars rolled his eyes dramatically, standing up with a huff, but his hand moved before he thought about it. He grabbed James' arm, feeling the solid, unforgiving bulk of muscle beneath his fingers. His heart skipped, a rush of heat shooting through him. „Alright, knock it off. Both of you. Jesus..."
James didn't move. His eyes stayed locked on Dave, a storm raging just behind them, his face darkening by the second. His breath quickened, his chest rising and falling, brushing too close against Dave's.
Dave's eyes flicked down, a slow, deliberate sweep over James' flushed face, and the corner of his mouth curled.
„Getting a little warm, Hetfield?" Dave drawled, the teasing lilt in his voice landing like a punch. „Face looks a little red."
James' nostrils flared. „Shut up."
„Or what?" Dave's voice dropped, soft, almost a whisper. His eyes didn't leave James. „What are you gonna do, sweet heart?"
The distance between them was nothing. Inches. A breath. James' mouth twitched, his lips parting, and for a fleeting second—just a second—Lars swore James leaned in.
It was a second too long.
„Christ.." Lars muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. His cheeks burned. „You two wanna fight or fuck? Just pick one already."
Neither moved.
The room felt smaller now, the rain hammering against the windows a mere whisper compared to the storm building between them. The heat between James and Dave radiated outward, pulling Lars into its orbit.
His breath caught as he stood there, caught in the gravity of two men who were far too big, far too intense, and far too them.
James' shoulders were rigid, his chest still heaving with unspoken words and barely restrained fury. His eyes, stormy and dangerous, flicked away from Dave's smirk and landed squarely on Lars.
He lingered there. The anger softened just a shade, replaced with something darker—something that made Lars' throat tighten and his skin prickle.
James' lips parted, a slow smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. „You're awfully quiet, Lars."
Lars' heart thudded, and he straightened, narrowing his eyes. "Fuck off, James."
„No." James said, voice low, his stare cutting into Lars, „I don't think I will."
Dave's laugh was sharp, slicing through the tension like a knife. „Oh, look at this—" he said, leaning against the wall, arms folded as his eyes glinted with amusement. „Is that a blush, Lars?"
„You wish." Lars snapped, heat crawling up his neck. His hand twitched at his side, clenching into a fist.
„Don't think he has to wish." James said, his voice rolling out like smoke. His eyes stayed locked on Lars, tracking every small twitch of his face, every shift of his stance. „You've been watching, haven't you?"
Lars' mouth opened to spit something back, but no words came out. His chest tightened as James stepped closer, so close he could feel the heat from his body. The weight of him, the sheer size, was so much.
„Enjoying the show, huh?" Dave murmured, his grin curling like a serpent's.
Lars' glare was weak, his voice a growl. „Shut up."
James tilted his head, his smirk widening. „You want us to shut up..." His voice dropped, deep and deliberate, „or do something about it?"
Lars' heart slammed against his ribs. He opened his mouth to snap something back, but Dave cut him off with a quiet, mocking laugh.
„Look at him." Dave poked, his eyes glinting with sharp amusement. „Trying so hard to pretend he's not into this."
„I'm not—"
„Lars." Dave's voice was velvet and venom, a playful sneer curling his lips. „You've been staring since the moment I walked in. What's got you so worked up? Me? Or him?" His smirk deepened as his eyes flicked between James and Lars.
„Or maybe both?"
„Fuck off, Dave." Lars' words lacked bite, his voice too tight, his body too tense. His face burned as James leaned even closer, his breath warm against the side of his face.
„He's squirming." James drawled, amused. „You always get this twitchy when you want something?"
„Stop fucking with me." Lars growled, but his voice wavered. His hand twitched at his side, fingers itching to shove James away or maybe grab him—he couldn't decide which.
„Why would I stop?" James' grin widened. „You've been asking for it all night."
Lars' glare faltered as James' eyes bored into his, and Dave, always watching, always calculating, let out another soft, smug laugh. „Oh, he's loving this."
Dave stepped closer, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow over the smaller, trembling figure of Lars. His cock was already hard, the outline visible through his tight jeans. He leaned down, his ginger locks brushing against Lars' cheek, his warm, minty breath ghosting over Lars' ear.
„You know what happens when you get like this, don't you?" His hand snaked around the back of Lars' neck, his grip firm but gentle, and he pulled their faces closer together.
„You're begging for it, aren't you?" The words were a whisper, a challenge that sent a shiver down Lars' spine. Dave's brown eyes gleamed with mischief and something darker.
„I'm not—mmph!" Lars' protest was abruptly silenced as James' mouth claimed his, the kiss a firm assertion of dominance.
James's tongue pushed into his mouth, tasting of whiskey and the hint of a smirk. The larger man's hands cupped his face, holding him in place as he kissed him deeply, thoroughly, leaving no doubt about who was in charge here.
The kiss felt like a brand, they always did from James, hot and unyielding. Lars felt himself melting into the embrace, his body betraying his feigned protests. It grew more demanding, James's tongue sliding over his, claiming every inch of his mouth.
The taste of James's stubble, the smell of his cologne, and the feel of his hard chest pressing against him sent a jolt of desire straight to Lars' core.
His own cock began to stir in his pants, and he whimpered into the kiss, his hands moving to James' hips.
Meanwhile, Dave chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving the intimate scene unfolding. He reached down, his own hand balling to a fist and moving down to his substantial erection, stroking it slowly through his jeans as he watched James claim Lars.
Breaking the kiss, James leaned back, his eyes gleaming with victory. He turned his head to look at Dave, the smugness clear in his gaze. „So, definitely into this, huh?" he said, nodding at the bulge in Lars' pants.
Dave's smirk grew wider, his strokes more deliberate as he watched Lars squirm under their combined attention.
„Seems like the little whore can't decide which of us he wants more." he taunted, his voice low and seductive. The room was a symphony of heavy breaths and the faint sound of fabric sliding against skin as James reached down to palm the bulge in Lars' jeans.
„So greedy.." James murmured, giving it a squeeze that made Lars yelp and arch his back. „Why don't you tell us, sweetheart?"
„F-fuck both of you!" Lars managed to spit out, his voice a mix of anger and arousal. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes darted between the two men, unable to hide his desire.
The pressure of James's hand on his crotch was maddening, making his tiny cock throb painfully against the fabric. He reached up to push James's hand away, but his touch was too soft, too needy.
„I—I don't fuckin need you to tell me what I want." he lied, trying to regain some semblance of control. But his eyes kept straying to Dave's cock, watching it thicken and grow as he teased it through his jeans.
The sight was making his own cock ache even more. He bit his lower lip, his green eyes clouding with lust as he imagined what it would feel like to have both of them inside him at once.
Dave laughed, a deep rumbling sound that seemed to resonate in the very air around them. „Look at him—" he said to James, not bothering to hide his amusement. „So fucking greedy."
He took a step closer to Lars, his cock now a clear and prominent bulge. He reached out and trailed his fingers lightly over Lars's cheek, the touch feather-light but deliberate.
„You want us both, don't you?" He whispered the words into Lars's ear, his breath hot and sweet. „You want us to fill you up and use you until you can't even remember your own name."
James chuckled darkly, his hand moving to squeeze and stroke Lars's cock more firmly. „And we're more than happy to oblige."
The words sent a bolt of lust through Lars, and he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his throat. He tried to push James's hand away again, though it was obviously half hearted.
„Fuck you, both of you, seriously.." he murmured, his voice betraying his need. His eyes were wide with a mix of anger and desire, and he could feel his cock leaking pre-cum through his pants. „Why do you always do this to me?"
„Probably because we both know exactly what you like." Dave said, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin as he reached out and slapped James' ass playfully.
James yelped and jumped, spinning around with a look of shock and outrage. „What the hell, Dave?" His cheeks reddened as Dave's hand stayed on his ass, lingering and cupping after the smack.
The suddenness of the action made Lars' eyes widen, and his mouth dropped open slightly, his heart racing with the excitement of the unpredictable turn. The tension between the two men was palpable, a heady mix of aggression and arousal.
James's hand shot up to slap Dave's hand and cover the spot where he'd had slapped, his eyes narrowing in mock-indignation. „What the fuck, Dave? You can't just—"he spat, but the heat in his voice was undeniable.
Dave simply chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. He stepped closer to James, his own arousal clear as he reached into James's pocket.
„Look what we have here.." he said, pulling out a small bottle of lube with a flourish. James's face went from red to purple as he realized what was happening.
„You—you had that on you?" Lars sputtered. He'd known before Dave had even shown up that him and James would possibly fall into their usual routine, but the thought of James preparing for it still made him flustered.
„Always prepared for anything, aren't we?" Dave would taunt , waggling the lube at James.
James's eyes went wide with embarrassment, and he swatted at Dave's hand, trying to snatch the bottle away. „You fucking asshole.." he murmured, but the edge of his voice was tinged with excitement.
Watching the two of them, Lars couldn't help the smug little smile that played across his lips. He knew he had them both right where he wanted them. As their banter grew more heated, he reached into his own pants and began to stroke himself gently, the fabric of his underwear doing little to hide the hardness growing there.
The sight of James's handsome, flustered face and Dave's cocky smirk was all he needed to start his engine.
Dave's eyes caught the movement and his grin grew wolfish „Looks like someone's eager to get the party started." he said, his gaze flicking down to Lars's hand.
„But not so fast, little bird." He stepped closer, his large hand landing on Lars's wrist, stilling his movement. „I'll tell you what." he continued, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
„I'll talk dirty to Jamie all night long, but I won't be fucking him. Tonight, it's all about you and that sweet little ass of yours."
James's eyes shot to Dave, a flash of something akin to surprise or maybe even disappointment crossing his features before he schooled his expression.
„You're not touching me." he said firmly, though his voice was shakier than he'd have liked.
The truth was, the thought of Dave fucking him while he Lars watched him take it had been playing in the back of his mind all evening. He'd been trying to ignore it, telling himself he didn't want it, but the sight of Lars's hand in his pants was making it increasingly difficult to resist.
„Oh, please," Lars scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. „You guys are so full of shit."
He knew James's type, knew that he loved the idea of being the one in charge, even when he was begging for it. And he knew that Dave reveled in pushing James's buttons.
„If you two are going to fuck, then do it." he said, his own cock now straining painfully against his underwear. „But don't expect me to just sit here and watch."
He stood up, trying to sound braver than he felt, his knees wobbling slightly. „I got better things to do with my time."
„Oh, you think so?" Dave's voice was a low, dangerous purr as he stepped closer to Lars, his hand snaking around the smaller man's waist and pulling him back against his chest. He could feel Lars's heart racing, his body quivering with a mix of anger and anticipation. M
James took advantage of the moment, stepping in front of Lars and placing a hand on each of his shoulders, pushing him down to his knees. „You're not going anywhere, Lars." James said, his eyes never leaving Lars's. „We're not done with you."
„What the—get off me!"
Lars squirmed in their grips, his eyes flashing with a combination of fear and excitement. The floor was cold against his knees, and he could feel the fabric of the carpet rough against his skin.
„Why so shy?" James's voice was low and amused as he leaned down, his eyes on Lars's pink lips. „You know you want it, Lars. You're always begging for it when we're alone."
His hands tightened on Lars's shoulders, keeping him in place as Dave chuckled and began to unbuckle his belt.
„Fine.." Lars huffed out, his cheeks flaming. „But only if you both promise to be nice to me." He shot a glare up at James, though his eyes were glazed with desire.
James leaned down, his blonde hair cascading over Lars's face, and whispered, „We'll be as nice as you want us to be, sweetheart." before giving him a quick, hard kiss that made Lars's toes curl.
Meanwhile, Dave's large hands slid down to cup Lars's ass cheeks, his rough thumbs circling the sensitive skin around his hole through the boys jeans. He chuckled, his voice thick with lust. „Look at him, James. He's begging for it."
As Lars's breath hitched, James nodded to Dave, who wasted no time in pulling down the smaller man's pants and underwear, exposing his plump, round ass. „Look at that, James." Dave said, his voice a gravelly growl. „Can't wait to fill him up."
James's giggled and it was like a switch for Lars, his cheeks burning hotter as Dave's lubed-up fingers circled his tight hole.
His eyes went wide, watching as James's cock sprang free, the blonde's pubic hair a wild mess around the base of his thick shaft.
„Fuck." Lars whimpered, his eyes darting between James and Dave. This was really happening, the thing he'd been fantasising about since he'd caught the pair together in their earliest days.
„Looks like someone's got a little baby cock," Dave sneered, his eyes glinting with mischief as he took in James's erection. James's jaw clenched, his cheeks darkening.
„You're one to talk!" James shot back, his voice a mix of anger and embarrassment. „At least mine doesn't look like a fucking candy cane."
Lars watched the exchange, his own arousal growing despite the giggles that threatened to spill from his lips. James's hand was a vice around his throat, and Lars felt the tip of Dave's finger breach his entrance, sending a jolt of pleasure through him
„Fuck!" he gasped, his eyes rolling back as Dave's digits began to pump in and out of him, stretching him open.
„You like that, don't you?" Dave's voice was low, almost a purr, as he watched Lars's reactions. „You like being our little slut."
„M-more," Lars managed to whimper, his voice strangled by James's grip. The pressure on his throat was intense, but the feeling of Dave's fingers inside him was even more so.
The burn of the stretch was downright delicious, and he couldn't help but push back against the intrusion, his tiny cock jutting out, begging for attention.
„So greedy.." Dave murmured, his breath hot against Lars' neck. He twisted his hand, hitting that perfect spot inside Lars that made him see stars.
„Look at that." Dave said, his voice filled with amusement. „More eager to please than I've seen you in a while."
James's grip on Lars's throat tightened, his own cock now in his hand, stroking in time with Dave's movements. His face was a mask of conflicting emotions—anger, lust, and something almost... tender. „Such a good boy." James murmured, his eyes on Lars's face. „Taking Davey like a champ."
The blondes eyes never left Lars's, burning with a mix of anger and lust as his hand worked his cock, the pink tip already glistening with pre-cum. His cheeks were flushed, and his breathing was erratic.
„You like that, don't you?" James's voice was tight, his teeth clenched as he watched Lars squirm under Dave's expert touch. The grip on his neck didn't loosen, but the way his thumb traced small circles on the side of Lars's throat was almost affectionate.
Dave leaned over, his eyes glinting with mischief. „Look at him, James. He's loving it." His voice was a low growl, his eyes raking over Lars's trembling body. „So eager to be filled, aren't you, sweetheart?"
Lars felt his own pulse racing under the firm grip, the pressure making him light-headed. The sound of skin on skin as James stroked himself filled the room, and Lars couldn't help the desperate moan that escaped his lips as Dave's fingers delved deeper into his ass. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, but it was intoxicating
„More.." he pleaded, his voice high and needy.
James smirked, his grip on Lars's throat tightening just a fraction before he stepped closer, the tip of his cock brushing against Lars's plump lips.
„Open up for me." he demanded, his voice a low command.
And Lars did, his mouth parting to allow James's cock to slide in. The taste was familiar and yet still thrilling, and Lars took him in eagerly, his tongue swirling around the head, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. The sounds of his own moaning muffled by the thick length of James's shaft, his eyes never leaving James's intense gaze.
James's smirk grew into a full smile. He watched as Lars's cheeks hollowed around his cock, the brunette's eyes fluttering closed in pleasure.
In interim, Dave's thick fingers continued to pump in and out of Lars's ass, his own cock now out and leaking precum. He watched the show with a mix of arousal and possessiveness, his thumb pressing against Lars's prostate with each stroke.
The room was filled with the sounds of Lars's moans and the slick sounds of skin on skin. „Look how good he is, Dave." James whispered , his voice strained with pleasure. „Our little cockslut."
Dave's eyes darkened with lust as he watched Lars almost eagerly take James's thick, and frankly gorgeous cock into his mouth. The sight of Lars's cheeks hollowing and his eyes watering slightly from the effort was like a symphony of desire to him.
His own large hand had started rhythmic pumping on his own erection, the precum acting as a natural lubricant as he stroked himself in time with Lars's bobbing head.
He leaned down, his breath hot against Lars's ear. „You love this, don't you?" he murmured. „Taking us both at the same time. Our little whore." His thumb pushed harder against Lars's prostate with each word, sending shivers of pleasure through the smaller man's body.
James's hand tightened in Lars's hair, guiding him faster, deeper, his hips starting to rock with the rhythm. Hi grunts grew louder, his hips bucking slightly as Lars took him deeper.
The smaller man's eyes watered, his throat straining around the thick cock, but the feeling of being so used, so claimed, was a powerful aphrodisiac.
As Dave slowly withdrew his fingers from Lars's ass, the whine that escaped was almost pitiful, a high-pitched sound that made James's cock throb.
„You want it, don't you?" Dave's voice was a dark whisper as he stepped closer, his cock now a fiery brand of desire that Lars couldn't ignore. „You want to feel how much bigger I am than him."
The room spun around Lars as he nodded frantically, his eyes never leaving the monstrous cock that loomed above him. He could feel his own dick pulsing with anticipation, the pressure in his ass building as he tried to relax for the impending intrusion.
James's eyes narrowed at Dave's taunt, and with a snarl, he flipped him the bird before focusing back on Lars. The action was so quick and unexpected that it made Dave laugh, his deep chuckles echoing through the room.
„Whatever, red.." James murmured, his voice a low, teasing growl as he watched Lars's eyes widen in anticipation.
Dave's smirk grew wider as he lined up his large cock with Lars's tight, lubed-up hole.
He took a moment to appreciate the sight of James's cock disappearing into Lars's mouth, the way the smaller man's cheeks hollowed out with each thrust.
With a groan of his own, he began to push in, his cock stretching Lars wider than he'd ever been. „Take it, baby.." he murmured, his eyes never leaving Lars's face as he watched the play of emotions—fear, lust, and something else—flicker across the brunette's features.
The pressure was almost unbearable as Dave's massive cock breached his entrance, the burn searing through him like a hot knife. His eyes watered, and a muffled cry was all he could manage around James's cock as he felt himself being split open.
The world narrowed down to the feeling of being filled, so completely and utterly, by the two men he couldn't help but love and despise in equal measure.
James's hand tightened in Lars's hair, pushing him down further onto his cock as he felt the added pressure of Dave's cock filling the space between them. His own eyes rolled back with pleasure as he watched the show, the sight of Lars's eyes watering around his shaft making him throb even more.
„Fuck, Lars," he groaned. „You're taking it like a champ."
The painful pleasure was overwhelming, and Lars could do nothing but whimper around James's cock as Dave's thick length slammed into him. The sound of their grunts and the slap of their bodies echoed in his ears, and he felt so tiny, so powerless.
And yet, it was exactly what he craved. His own cock was a pulsing mess, smearing precum on his couch as he struggled to stay upright, his knees shaking.
„You're doing so good, little bird.." Dave gritted out, his strokes growing faster. „Such a good boy, taking both of us."
James nodded, his own thrusts matching Dave's tempo, their cocks slapping against Lars's ass with a wet, obscene sound. „Yeah, that's right." James agreed, his voice strained. „So fucking good."
„You like being our little slut, don't you?" Dave's voice was a mix of challenge and praise, his hand coming down to slap Lars's ass cheek hard.
The sting made Lars jolt, his eyes watering even more around James's cock, but he moaned in response, nodding frantically.
„You're taking us so well.." James managed to say, his own breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps as he watched his cock disappear into Lars's mouth.
The sight of his cock sliding in and out, coated with the brunette's spit, was almost too much for James handle. „So good." he murmured, his thumb brushing against the side of Lars's face gently, a stark contrast to the firm grip he had on his hair.
Dave leaned over, his chest pressing against Lars's back, the warmth and weight of him almost comforting as he began to fuck him in earnest.
„Never thought I'd have you both at once.." Dave murmured, his hand coming down to squeeze one of Lars's ass cheeks.
James's eyes never left the sight of his own cock disappearing into the brunette's mouth, his hand moving to the back of Lars's head, pushing him down even further. „Greedy bastard.." he growled to Dave, his voice thick with lust.
The feeling of being so utterly used, so completely filled by the two men he desired most, was intoxicating for lars. He felt like he was drowning in sensation, unable to think of anything but the fullness in his ass and the cock in his mouth. He tried to moan around James's girth, the vibrations sending shudders through James's body.
James's grip tightened in Lars's hair as he felt the beginnings of his climax build. „Swallow it all," he grunted, his eyes narrowed with lust as he watched the smaller man's throat work around his shaft.
Dave's hand found Lars's cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts, his own orgasm not far behind.
The pressure in Lars's throat was intense as James's cock swelled and pulsed, filling his mouth with hot, thick cum. He did his best to swallow it all, his eyes watering and nose burning from the sheer force of it. Dave's hand on his own cock was like an electric shock, sending waves of pleasure through his body that made his legs tremble even more.
He could feel James's cock twitching in his mouth, the taste of salt and musk coating his tongue. The feeling of being used so completely, of serving their desires, was overwhelming, and Lars felt his own orgasm building in response.
The blondes hand fell away from Lars's head, his cock slipping from his mouth with a wet pop. The brunette gasped for air, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glazed with desire.
Dave's strokes grew more urgent, his grip tightening around Lars's cock. „Look at him, Jamie" he panted, his thrusts growing deeper, harder. „So close."
James's breathing was labored, his cock spent as he watched Lars's desperate attempts to keep up with Dave's pace, and he leaned back against the couch, his expression a mix of boredom and irritation. „You're so annoying.." he murmured, his voice lacking the earlier passion.
Dave laughed, his thrusts grew more vigorous, his cock a blur as he fucked Lars with renewed vigor. James couldn't help but glance over at Dave's cock, the ginger's movements mesmerizing.
Despite his earlier protests, a part of him longed to feel that thickness inside him again, to be used just as Lars was.
With James's cock out of his mouth, Lars took a moment to breathe, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure. The feeling of Dave's cock inside him was overwhelming, and he could feel his own climax approaching. He reached back, his small hand gripping Dave's muscular thigh, urging him on.
The gingers eyes darkened as he watched Lars's hand grip his thigh, the muscles in his neck straining as he increased his pace. The sounds of their fucking grew louder, the slap of flesh echoing through the room.
„Look at you, baby.." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. „So desperate for it."
James's gaze flicked from Lars to Dave again, a hint of envy in his eyes as he watched the ginger's powerful hips driving into the brunette.
He took a deep breath, his own cock already beginning to harden again at the sight of the two of them together. „You're so fucking good at that, Dave.." he murmured, his voice a low growl.
The feel of James's eyes on him only added to the intensity of the moment for Lars. He could feel Dave's cock swelling inside him, the thick veins pulsing against his inner walls. His own tiny dick was a mess of precum and need, and he knew he was close.
Dave's breath grew hotter against Lars's neck as he felt James's gaze upon them. The blonde's cock twitched with renewed interest, and he couldn't help but smirk.
„Looks like James is enjoying the show." he murmured in Lars's ear, his voice thick with arousal. His strokes grew more erratic, his hips snapping forward as he pushed deeper into the brunette. „You're going to make me cum," he panted, his eyes locked with James's.
Lars's eyes widened as he felt Dave's cock swell even further, the pressure within him reaching a peak. He could feel his own orgasm building, his tiny cock pulsing with every thrust. The thought of James watching, his own desire clear, was too much.
He threw his head back and screamed out his release, his body convulsing as cum spurted from him, painting the floor below.
Dave's eyes never left James's as he felt his own orgasm approaching. The tension between them was palpable, a silent challenge that only served to fuel his desire. His hips jerked, driving his cock deeper into Lars's tight ass, watching James's expression as he did so.
With a final, brutal thrust, he came, his cum filling Lars to the brim as he watched James's own cock throb with envy. He leaned down, his voice a whisper in Lars's ear. „I liked this better than our usual stunts."
The world swam around Lars as he felt Dave's warm cum inside him, his own orgasm subsiding. He was panting, his body shaking, when suddenly he was pulled to his feet, his legs wobbly.
Before he knew what was happening, Dave had sat down heavily on the couch, pulling Lars into his lap. The sudden weight and warmth was surprising, but as James leaned in to kiss the top of Dave's head, a strange warmth spread through Lars, and he couldn't help the small smile that curved his lips.
„Look at the mess you made." James said with a tired laugh, gesturing to the floor where Lars's cum had pooled. „Someone's going to have to clean that up." His voice was teasing, but there was a hint of affection in it that Lars hadn't heard in a while.
Dave leaned back into James body, his chest heaving with exertion. His eyes were still glued to James, a smug look on his face.
„I'm not the one who made the mess." he said, his voice filled with lazy satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around Lars's waist, pulling him closer,
The living room fell quieter now, aside from the soft grunts and panting. Lars leans against the armrest, shakily reaching for a cigarette off the table, and lighting it. It dangling between his fingers, his other hand braced against the edge of the couch.
His eyes flicker briefly at James and Dave, but he quickly looks away, his face flushed with lingering tension, a cocktail of anger and something far more vulnerable that he refuses to acknowledge.
James is sprawled out behind to Dave, his arm resting casually across Dave's chest, but his posture is stiff, like he's still trying to figure out what the hell just happened. His face is set in that familiar, unreadable mask, though his jaw clenches every so often, betraying him.
Dave couldn't help himself. He runs a finger idly along the top of James' arm, his lips curling into that infuriating, knowing smirk.
„That was... productive." Dave says, his voice low and teasing, his eyes dancing with an edge of satisfaction.
James shoots him a glare, one that says it all—
„Shut the fuck up, Mustaine." James growls, though it's softened by the warmth of the moment, like he's not fully convinced whether he should be pissed or not.
Lars exhales smoke slowly, staring at the ceiling, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it slips away from him with every breath.
„You're both assholes, know that?" he mutters under his breath, the words more for himself than for anyone else. He can't bring himself to look at either of them, the vulnerability that was dragged out of him in the heat of everything leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
James and Dave, though, exchange a brief glance, and for the first time in what feels like a long time, something softer passes between them.
A shared understanding that they both want to ignore but can't. It's not about the chaos of the moment or the power games—they've both been here too many times before. This time, it's different, though neither one is brave enough to admit it out loud.
James sighs, leaning back against Dave, letting the tension ease from his shoulders just a little. Dave looks down at him, something tender flickering in his eyes before he masks it with another smirk, his hand finding its way to James' side.
„You're still a pain in the ass." Dave teases, his voice a little softer than usual.
James scoffs but doesn't pull away. ""Yeah, well, whatever.." he mumbled, the roughness of his tone contradicting the softness of the way he leans into Dave.
Lars watches the two of them—how they fit so effortlessly, even if they don't want to admit it. His heart twists, a mix of frustration and something else that he won't let himself name.
It's the kind of ache that comes from being caught in a game he doesn't fully understand, knowing he's always on the outside looking in.
„What's the matter, Lars?" James glances over at him, a sly grin forming at the corner of his mouth. „Jealous?"
Lars doesn't answer immediately, but the sting of the question is sharp, just like the way they're both looking at him. Instead, he takes another drag of his cigarette, trying to hide how unsettled he is.
„Fuck you." he spat flatly, though the irritation doesn't quite mask the way his pulse quickens under their attention.
Dave chuckles at the reaction, obviously pleased by the discomfort he's causing. „You're so much more fun when you're all twitchy, Lars." he says, his voice teasing, but with a hint of something almost affectionate buried beneath the sarcasm.
James nudges Dave with his shoulder, a small, barely noticeable smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. „Shut up, Mustaine." he mutters again, but there's a certain warmth in his tone now, something that wasn't there before.
Lars shifted, refusing to meet their eyes but feeling the weight of both of them in ways he couldn't put into words. He pressed his cigarette into the ashtray, letting it smolder.
„None of this changes anything." he said, more to himself than anyone else.
„No.." James muttered, his voice rough but almost longing for something he wouldn't dare put into words. „It doesn't."
„But," Dave added, ever the last word, „it explains a lot."