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Burning bridges	By : ginseng Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Slipknot Views: 1798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It did not happen. This fiction in no way represents people mentioned within. I do not know any of the members of Slipknot. I do not profit from these stories.

Chapter List
- 1-Burning bridges
- 1
Title: Burning bridges
Author: ginseng
Pairing: Mick/Jim
POV: Mick
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I can no longer remember if there ever was a time when I wanted to say ‘stop’. You tear down my protective walls. And I let you.
Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. It did not happen. This fiction in no way represents people mentioned within. I do not know any of the members of Slipknot. I do not profit from these stories.

Your hand on my neck. Soft and cautious. Strong and commanding. Fingertips still cold. This season’s first snow, heavy white flakes falling slowly, kills all my illusions. Covering the world with a thick coat that muffles all sound. Everything is quiet. You whisper in my ear

“Tell me to stop and I’ll do as I’m told.”

How can such a small word be so difficult to articulate?

Your hand in my hair, slipping through my black pride and joy. Your lips on the side of my neck, lightning my fire, warming me up though it’s freezing outside. A heat I’ve tried to ignore for so long spread through out my body.

You know I won’t stop you, that I can’t ignore you even though I try. Your touch penetrates my defence, tear down my protective walls. And I let you. I lower my guard. In this conflict you’re the commander and I’m nothing but casualty. A captive of my inner ambivalence. My weaknesses – your strength.

I wish I had the strength to stop you. But I don’t. Slowly you pull my jersey off and kiss my shoulder. I moan. I curse inside my head for letting myself be so easily effected by your touch. A well known tingling in the palm of my hands. They’re my hands yet they seem to live a life of their own. They move without my consent; eagerly exploring the lean muscles on your back, find their way up to your curls. A careful tug on your hair tie and I watch you shake your head softly, trying to get the messy strands to fall into some kind of order over you shoulders. Much shorter than mine but longer now then the first time. Paralysed and overwhelmed, my breath hitches in my throat and I stop.

People tease you for being so tall and awkward but the way you move now, swift and gracefully down on your knees, is nothing but impressive. You unbutton my pants, hook your index fingers into the belt loops and yank them down. I’ve watched your nimble fingers play millions of notes, moving fast over the frets but they’ve never looked quite as good as right now - unlacing my boots.

I step out of shoes and pants. You let your fingers travel up my leg, slowly outlining the lettering on my calf. You place a kiss on the inside of my thigh and the combination of soft lips and rough beard on my sensitive skin make me shiver. You stand up and meet my eyes. Before I have a chance to stop you - you kiss me. Invasion. I’m unmasked and almost naked, but still in full mental armour.

I’m supposed to be strong, in charge, the lead to your rhythm. Maybe I’m just weak and terrified, like all the others. Nervous and tongue-tied, I’m too scared to respond with more that weak moans and heavy breathing. Such an easy target, I’ve lost my backbone. I look into your eyes, green weapons of lust, painfully effective.

Cease fire. I surrender. I confess. I want this. Exhale.

Your lips are warm, melting my ice-cold barricades. Your left hand on my chest, softly caressing muscle. I’m annihilated. Your tongue against mine and all hesitation are gone. I am defeated. My hands find their way in under the lining of your t-shirt. Silky skin covering hard muscles. I answer your kiss, craving more. You taste like cigarettes and beer.

Your green eyes so close, darkened with lust. Maybe mine are just as dark, steel blue long gone. I can’t help but press closer to you. Feeling you growing harder turns me on more than I ever could have imagined. The way you groan when I grab your butt and pull you even closer heats me up, fuel for my fire, need and lust.

Suddenly all patience is gone. We work fast to get rid of all that keeps us from feeling skin against skin, to get naked. Your shirt, your jeans, our underwear removed by decisive fingers. Forces allied, as a team, like always.

I allow myself to enjoy your naked body. Even though it’s December and winter’s raging outside your skin has a nice tone. I’m always pale. With hungry eyes I devour you. I wanna reach out and touch the unruly hair that surrounds your perfect member. But not yet. I have to cover more stable grounds before I can reach my goal.

I let my finger slip over your unshaven cheek, down your neck, pass the pulsating vein, to your collarbone and further down the ink on your shoulder. I caress your upper arm, close my eyes and take a deep breath. Intuitively you sense my hesitation. You take my hand and guide it. My palm flat against your chest. I feel your heavy heart beats. I forget to inhale.

“Mick…” you whisper.

A second or two pass before I find my voice.

“Yeah?”

“Still scared?”

I walk straight into your trap and let my hand slip from your chest to your cock. It’s firm and hard, yet silky smooth. Just like mine but still very foreign. I caress you, let it lay heavy in my hand. Stroking with my fingertips, and then using my palm. I have to tilt my head slightly backwards to be able to reach to kiss your neck. The feeling is outlandish. I work my way downward; neck, chest, nipple. I circle it with the tip of my tongue. You hold your breath. The way your body respond to my touch puzzles me. My hands move over your stomach. The small hair tickles me. Your skin is soft but your body hard. Different. Better? Wrong!

Yet I could spend hours like this, just touching you, listening to the way your breathing changes when I reach certain sensitive spots. To enjoy the way your hands move randomly over my shoulders, neck and back.

But my recently defrosted lust craves more, much more. Once again you caress the back of my neck and pull me into a hot kiss. Out of habit I press my groin against you. Male hardness. Your hands move down my back, over to the front and then you continue goal-oriented towards my throbbing flesh. Fire dash up my spine, burning need. I hear myself growl as you envelope me with your strong fingers. It feels like I’m going to faint each time you move over my length

“I think… I have to… sit down…”

You smile and take my hand. We’re in my home but it’s you who lead the way to my bedroom. I can no longer remember if there ever was a time when I wanted to say ‘stop’. I sit down on the edge of the bed and watch you through the protective curtain of black hair that has fallen before my eyes. I can’t stop looking. You walk up to me. Decisive. With a silent poke, your finger on my chest, and a stern look you have me retreating towards the head of my bed. On your knees you claim my most private territory - my bed. A quick tug on my ankle and I’m on my back.

Your finger circling my belly button, slow moves. When you place a small kiss on my stomach I can’t help but draw a quick breath in anticipation. Your lips work their way down to my groin. Instinctively I spread my legs a little wider. I want you to reach. I want to feel your lips around my swollen member. I want it so badly there’s no space left in my brain for any other thoughts. Just you. My breathing is ragged as your lips travel teasingly closer to my need. My fingers find your hair, trying to urge you to move faster. But you straighten up, fingers barely touching my cock. You smile.

“Patience Mick. There’s no hurry…”

“But I want…”

You silence me. My hands curl into tight fists, deep breaths. No hurry I tell myself. You giggle and I realise that I said it out loud.

A whispered warm touch by the tip of your tongue. From root to top. And then back down again. Long fingers close around my shaft. Your approach is incomparable; confident and uncompromising. We take a unison breath and then you go down on me. Before I even have a chance to moan my appreciation you stop. That firm tip of yours outlines my crown. No air. I’m so close to completion I scare myself. You use your competent hand, waiting for my breathing to even out a bit before you continue.

Deep, with one swift motion, you swallow me. Unique, never before have I felt a sensation so intense. Not fumbling. Practiced and perfect. The authority behind your touch is amazing. Your tongue cooperates completely with your lips. I thrust into your touch, knotting my fingers in your hair. No more teasing. Don’t stop. I’ve lost track of time. Desperate. You move faster, harder. My toes crack as I curl them involuntarily. Raging fire from deep within force me to buck up. Lungs completely out of air. My hands press you even further down. An indistinct whine leaves my lips and I’ve lost. Defeated. Liberated. Home.

Calm. Your hand on my thigh, stroking up over my stomach, slowly bringing me back down. You lay right next to me, fingertips running over my hardened nipple. You kiss my neck. Hot breath meets damp skin. Goose bumps. I try to move but my body feels extremely heavy. I open my eyes, blink at the light.

Why is the light still on? What have I done? A sudden flash of panic rips down my body.

You sense it, tilt my head to the side and look me in the eyes. With your left hand on my chest you silently demand my acceptance. It doesn’t take much; just a small smile and I surrender. You’ve played me like a chess game and now I’m checkmate. I kiss you and the small smile turns into a grin. You pat me reassuringly on the shoulder.

Side by side, facing each other. I let my hand travel up your arm. When I reach your shoulder you lay down on your back. I circle your nipple, fascinated by how fast it turns hard. Exploring the rough feel of your chest hair. A few grey strands. I lift my head and run my tongue over your nipple. A quick bite. I can’t stop myself from pinching mine. You close your eyes and once again I feel my hunger rising.

I’m impatient. Accepting my defeat I want to conquer you all at once. I’m eager to explore. Your stomach, not as flat as a couple of years ago, but still not soft in that girly way I’m so used to. Moving down, trying to go slow, to tease like you did to me. I look up and you smile, encouraging me to go on. My fingertips touch your soft skin, enveloping your hard on. Moving up and down. For the first time I hear you groan, not soft but more of a growl that gives me the confidence I need.

I scoot down, placing myself semi-laying between your legs. My face mere inches away from your member, hard and glistening, warm underneath my fingers. I travel down the underside of your cock. Unshaven. Male. Raw.

I wonder what you taste like. I hesitate but only for a second. I want to know. I close my lips around your head. My tongue licking hungrily. Soft and salty. Smooth and spicy. Unlike me but still very familiar. I do as you did to me working myself down your length. You twitch in my mouth and I feel powerful. I quicken my pace, inspired by your low moans, moving my hand in time with my mouth. You grow even harder but still I’m slightly worried that I’m being too rough. Are you enjoying this?

Soon your moans change into some kind of rhythmical humming. Ragged breathing. I flatten my tongue against your shaft trying got reach every single spot, to figure out what you like the most. Faster. I concentrate hard on synchronizing my mouth, tongue and fingers. You take me by surprise with just a small tilt of your hips and a firm hand on the back of my head. Pulsating force hit me harder than I had anticipated. I swallow and compel myself to stay put until you release the grip on my hair. Take a few breaths before I move back up.

I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I hear you panting besides me. My mind is blank but still racing. The mattress shifts underneath me when you get up. I’m not ready to face you just yet so I cover my eyes with my arm. Sighing. The light is still on. You walk downstairs and I hear you rummaging around. I picture you walking around buck-naked in my home.

You come back. Two familiar sounds; the clicking of your lighter and the clinging of beer bottles. When you exhale your smoke I uncover my face and look at you. You place the beer bottles on my nightstand.

You sit down right next to me. I take the cigarette from your lips and put it out in the now empty bottle in my hand.

“I fucking hate when you smoke inside my house,” I growl.

“Too cold to go outside. My place… Next time…”

Next time?!
- 1
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Burning bridges