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Fuel	By : lunavin Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Metallica Views: 1822 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no money from this. I don't own Metallica. This did not happen.

Chapter List
- 1-Fuel
- 1
Author's Note: This is the non-angsty fic I promised a reader from my blog. This fic stands alone, but it could easily be an interlude to my story "The Small Hours" if anyone wanted to see it that way.

Jason looked out of the open window of James' 1967 Chevy Camaro. It was given to the lead singer as a gift after shooting the "I Disappear" video for the Mission Impossible soundtrack. They were cruising, driving five miles under the speed limit down the main roads of San Francisco so everyone could take a proper look at it.

The car stopped at a red light and the crowd gathered at the bar on the corner of the street started openly gawking at them. Recognition shown in their eyes at the site of Jason and a few of the people started running up to the car to find James in the driver’s seat.

"Holy shit, it is Metallica!" said one guy in a plain black shirt and jeans. He stuck his hand out and Jason shook it.

"That's a nice car," a girl said in a miniskirt. Jason looked over, but her eyes were on James.

"Why, thank you," James said with a leer and a smile.

"I love riding in fast cars," she said with a flirtatious smile.

Jason smirked and looked away and signed a quick autograph for another guy that had come up to the car.

"Yeah, so do I," James said.

The light turned green then. Jason signed one last autograph. James waived and put his foot on the gas, driving away from the scene.

"You love fast cars, but you're driving so slow," Jason said.

James looked over affronted.

"I was just showing it off," James said with an evil smirk. "Ready to go back?"

"Sure," Jason said.

James made a turn and sped towards the highway that would take them away from the heart of the city and back to the less populated area where they lived.

As soon as they got on the ramp and joined the rest of the cars, James turned up the radio and sped up even more. Jason watched the road go by faster and faster.

"It wasn't a complaint James," Jason said with a smile. "I like slow."

"This is a 1967 Camaro, driving it slow just makes it angry."

James lead foot sunk the pedal and the car seemed to purr in approval. Honestly, Jason liked it when James drove fast. It might have been the speed, but Jason was sure he enjoyed it more for the look that James got on his face when the singer was excited over a car.

The radio, because what else would there be in a car from 1967, Jason thought mentally, started playing Motorhead. This further aggravated the situation and James sped up even more pushing the car to its limit. He had the audacity to laugh.

Jason studied the man next to him; James was so excited. It caused Jason to get excited as well, though granted not about the car.

Without a thought, he placed his left hand on James' thigh. He squeezed James' leg and then started to move his hand higher and higher.

"Is it the car?" James said a bit low. Jason almost didn't hear him.

Jason shook his head in the negative.

Then his hand trailed between James' thighs to rub at his crotch. James spread his legs a little, couldn't help but slow down maybe five miles as he adjusted himself for Jason's exploration.

Jason couldn't feel much through the fabric of the jeans and so he started undoing them enough so he could slip his hand comfortably inside. He wrapped his fingers around James's hardening dick and squeezed lightly.

Jason looked out the window at their current location.

"You're going to miss our exit if you keep driving so fast," Jason said.

"I'm not stopping yet, and you better not stop either," James said.

Jason smiled and started working James' cock with his hand. He squeezed, he tugged, all too gentle to fully satisfy until James let out a mewl in the back of his throat he couldn't hold back. The car slowed down a bit more.

"Lift up a bit," Jason said.

James complied and lifted himself up from the seat slightly. Jason unhooked his own seatbelt and leaned over James. He slid his band mate’s pants down far enough to expose his erection from out of his jeans.

James looked at Jason. He was trying to be commanding, but there was too much desperation for any true effectiveness. It didn't matter; Jason wasn't much of a tease anyway.

He got himself comfortable before lowering his mouth over James' dick. The car sped up momentarily, and then slowed down again as James moved his hand from the steering wheel to run over Jason's cropped hair in encouragement, caressing him in gratitude.

Jason sucked James' off enjoying every flinch the man made as the singer tried desperately to remain in control and disaffected enough to be able to drive. It wasn't the first time Jason had done this to him in a moving car, it wouldn't be the last.

Jason felt the car slow down further and veer to the right. He sped up his movements.

"No, go slow, slow," James said with a break in his voice.

The car turned a few times. James had gotten off the highway. Jason kept at what he was doing until he felt the car stop a couple of minutes later.

Jason lifted himself up and looked around at the empty countryside, but James grabbed him by the head and pulled him into a kiss too fast for him to make out where they were.

The mighty Het took off his seatbelt and started undoing Jason's pants. He took his bass player’s erection out and jerked him off quickly to get him as hard as he himself was.

Jason groaned and looked out the window again.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Middle of nowhere," James said. He started tugging Jason's pants lower until Jason took the hint and kicked off his shoes as James' removed them all together.

"Isn't this the make-out place? The one where the teenagers go?" Jason asked.

"Which means we won't be bothered," James said. He opened the glove compartment and rummaged inside before cursing. "Damn it, forgot this wasn't the pick-up."

"Oh," Jason said. He realized James' was looking for the lube they usually kept in the other car. "Just use spit."

"Yeah," James said. James reached over Jason's side and pulled the lever that dropped Jason's chair back so he was now leaning back significantly. James started pushing his pants down further before climbing over Jason. The bass player spread himself to let the taller man between his legs.

Jason laid back, one leg wrapped around James. His right he couldn't move properly and his knee was digging into the door handle, but he didn’t complain. He didn't think James was really going to last long anyway.

James stuck two fingers in his mouth and coated them with spit before moving them roughly into Jason. The smaller man groaned for a second. The pain passed quickly. They had been lovers for long enough that neither man needed much preparation before penetration.

Fuel is pumping engine flitted through Jason's mind and that's when he realized the radio was playing “Fuel”. Too perfect, he thought.

"Ok, ok," Jason said. "Enough. C'mon."

James smirked. He removed his fingers from Jason and spit in his palm, which he used to coat his own dick with.

"Be careful with your foot and the transmission," James whispered into Jason's ear. Jason nodded looking over at it and its close proximity as James started sliding into him.

Despite his desperation, James started off with slow thrusts. He always did if they had no lube so Jason wouldn't be hurt. He looked down at the blissful look on his bass players face. It didn't look like he was in pain.

"I thought you liked to go fast," Jason whispered.

James laughed," Brat."

Jason laughed lightly and James gave a hard thrust which made his laughter turn into a moan loud enough to resonate over the music.

James kept up the harder thrusts as he watched the pleasure flow through Jason's body. He had one hand on James' bicep, but the other hand gripped the seatbelt straps tight for leverage.

James sped up. No reason to prolong this too long he might actually start to feel the discomfort of fucking in such a tight space, and that was the car, not Jason. Never a discomfort, it was always a wonderful wonderful feeling fucking Jason’s tight space.

"Fuck," James moaned as the thought ran through his head. His hand grabbed on to the door where the window was rolled down for support. "You ready, Jase?"

Jason moved his hand off James arm and started jerking himself off to the rhythm of James' thrusts.

"Cause I can keep going," James whispered in Jason's ear. "I can go on and on and on..."

Jason came with James' voice in one ear whispering and James' voice singing against the music pumping through the radio.

"I thought so," James smirked and then thrust fast and hard until he came inside Jason's body with grunts muffled into Jason's neck.

The two men gradually caught their breath. Then James moved over back into the driver’s seat. He turned the radio down a bit as it had turned on to commercials.

"Here," Jason said. He handed over the sweater he'd been wearing. He'd taken it off to wipe himself clean leaving him only in his old Sepultura shirt.

"Thanks," James said. He wiped himself clean before tossing it into the backseat.

The two members of Metallica started redressing and getting themselves presentable again.

"This is nice. Drives real good, fast, easy. A bit uncomfortable though."

"My knee was digging into the door handle," Jason said.

"Why didn't you say so?"

"Small price to pay," Jason said.

"The Bel Air has more room," James said.

"It sure does," Jason, sighed wistfully as memories of their time in the Bel Air came to mind.

"Ready to go home?" James said.

"Yeap, I sure am," Jason smiled and got comfortable. "Sure glad I'm not driving."

"Brat," James said playfully.

He turned the car on and drove away. The exit to their house was only a few exits back the other way.
- 1
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Fuel