Giving In | By : FioraSilverWing Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't know Avenged Sevenfold personally. This never happened and I make no money from this story. |
Title: Giving In
Author: Serenity Star
Pairing: Jimmy/Matt
Rating: NC-17
Summary: 'Matt rolled his eyes to the side, eying Jimmy warily. A drinking Rev was never one to be trusted. Especially one using that tone of voice.'
Warnings: Jimmy is alive and well herein. Maybe not technically a warning, but I know some people can’t do it and I respect that.
Author's Note: Two fics in as many days! (This was technically done last night) The shock! The disbelief! Don’t get used to it. :p I don’t make promises with my writing for a reason. But here it is! I enjoyed this one. I love writing Jimmy, even now. He’s something of a muse for me and the personality, attitude and vocabulary tend to rub off on me sometimes. Read, enjoy, and tell me what you think!
Disclaimer: Fiction and all that. Pity.
“Maaatty…” Matt rolled his eyes to the side, eyeing Jimmy warily. A drinking Rev was never one to be trusted. Especially one using that tone of voice. And looking over at Matt like that. He lifted his hand, sipping from the bottle he was holding. There really wasn’t much to do at night on a tour bus rolling across the country but drink. Maybe watch some movies. Screw around. They were already drinking and someone had started a movie a while ago, though none of them had really ended up watching it. Jimmy was slumped on the couch, hands resting palms up on his thighs. He’d already lost his shirt, claiming that it was hot on the bus, but really, any excuse to shed clothing was a good one. He had his head turned, cheek resting against the cushion at his back, looking at Matt through heavy lids. He’d already abandoned his beer, the bottle sitting on the table. Right now he had better things in mind. “Matt.” The vocalist sighed, trying to look irritated while also trying to keep from eye fucking Jimmy’s lanky form. Really, he ought to be immune to it by now, considering how often the drummer walked around showing off skin. “What do you want Jim?” A slow, lazy grin spread over Jimmy’s face and Matt knew he was in trouble. What a perfect answer. Not the usual ‘yeah?’ or plain old ‘what?’ Oh no, this opened up a whole new world of possibilities. Possibilities Jimmy was going to take full advantage of. Because he was horny damnit. And the best way to get what he wanted from Matt would be to blindside the fucker. Rolling to the side gracefully, Jimmy worked himself onto his hands and knees to crawl the three feet between himself and Matt, blue eyes dark and peering up through his lashes. He could see the exact moment Matt realized he was fucked, the way his eyes widened minutely and he swallowed. He took the time to pluck the bottle from Matt’s fingers, setting it aside before straddling his thighs, sliding in close until their hips were flush. He draped his long arms around Matt’s neck, smirking his twisted half grin. “Funny you should ask.” Yeah, he was right. Never trust Jimmy when alone in a room with him and alcohol was involved. “Nope. Not happening.” His hands obviously had a mind of their own however, and shifted to settle on Jimmy’s slim hips despite his words. Jimmy lifted a brow slowly, looking down at Matt, his fingers playing with the short, wispy strands of hair at the back of the vocalist’s neck. “No?” “No dude.” Matt sighed softly, relaxing into the fingers flitting over his neck. He wasn’t drunk exactly, but he was well on his way and it was getting difficult to focus on reasons why he shouldn’t fuck Jimmy especially with the sensations his fingers were creating. Not to mention that lean body pressed right up against his own. There was no way in hell he was taking no for an answer. Even if he had to tie the broader man down and fuck himself on his cock. “And why not?” His tone was clearly incredulous and he arched to rub himself faintly against Matt, enticing. Tempting. Yeah, those reasons were getting fainter and fainter. But he was sticking to his guns, damnit! He was totally fucking Jimmy, even if he kept doing that wigglepressgrind thing… Wait, there was supposed to be a ‘not’ in there somewhere… “’cause Brian’s been a jealous bitch over you lately, especially since the whole ‘Brian moans like a whore’ incident and I don’t want to have to listen to his whining and complaining after he finds out I fucked you and he didn’t at least get to watch.” Jimmy scoffed, arching his hips to grind his cock right into the answering ridge in Matt’s pants, eyes dark and dangerous, lips set in a serious line. “Brian’s my best friend. But he doesn’t own me. And he’s not here right now. He’s in the back lounge actually. Fucking Zacky, I’m sure. Johnny’s back there too. Three guesses what he’s got his mouth on.” Yeah, the other three were suspiciously absent. And Zack and Brian had been shooting each other looks all night. And the midget just wasn’t happy unless he had something in his mouth. A cigarette, beer, a cock. Whatever. “But-“ Jimmy arched again, methodically grinding his hips down against Matt’s. And Matt couldn’t help but arch back and suck in a breath. “Fuck. So you’re just using me then? Cause Brian isn’t here?” Somehow that didn’t sound like a terrible idea. Definitely getting exasperated now. Jimmy sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, Matt, you fucking drunk idiot. If I wanted Brian, I’d march back there and join in. Of just drag him out and listen to Zack whine. I like your big cock, okay?” He smirked a little, trailing a hand down to slide the heel of his hand over the definite hardness growing in the vocalist’s pants. “Now are you gonna fuck me or do I have to ride you until you cry and beg me to stop?” Brian could go fuck himself. In one, not completely smooth motion, Matt had the two of them off the couch and on the floor, his larger body settled over Jimmy’s. The drummer might be taller, but he definitely had more mass. He ran his broad hands down Jimmy’s bare sides, rubbing at the smooth skin. “Alright fine. Pants off. Now. You got lube?” With a grin, Jimmy reached down, popping the button on his jeans, hips wriggling to kick them off, somehow managing to produce a tube from a pocket at the same time. In a matter of seconds, he was bare under Matt, offering the tube and grinning wide with his victory. “Who doesn’t have lube on this bus?” Matt blinked slowly, then shook his head, taking the proffered tube. Why did he even bother? Saying no to Jimmy was like issuing a direct challenge. And really, what was a little bitching from Brian when he got to sink his cock into Jimmy’s tight ass? Brian would just have to deal. In one smooth motion, Matt reared back and stripped his shirt off, tossing it aside and immediately reaching to work at his jeans. He made short work of them, settling deep between the drummer’s legs and slicking his fingers. He was buzzed, already hard enough to cut glass, had a naked, inked and perfectly lithe Jimmy spread out before him. His patience was already thin at best. “I hope you’re not looking for gentle and slow tonight. I ain’t got the fortitude right now.” “Ooo, fortitude. Big word.” Jimmy taunted with a smirk, drawing his knees up and out. “Come on Matty, slick that big dick up and fuck me.” He was tempted to do exactly that, rub some slick over himself and just thrust in. But Jimmy was always too tight to push quite that hard. Even so. He slid one finger in, followed almost immediately by a second. He’d make the effort at least. He barely bothered with a third finger before giving in to the shifting form below. In seconds he had lube slicked over his cock and was settled close, pressing in tight. Jimmy didn’t let him hesitate, just wrapped his long legs around Matt’s hips and tugged insistently until the larger man could get himself lined up properly and started to slide in. It was almost always hell, the first stretch. They all loved him because he was tight when they pushed in, but it came with a price. By now he could hide it, from all of them, save Brian and even with him he could pull it off now and then. But it was totally fucking worth it. He just breathed deliberately and made sure the vocalist kept moving, kept pressing in. Matt’s cock slid over his prostate as he moved and it was a rush of pleasurepain that was sweet, sweet torture. Jimmy arched and hissed, fingers clinging tight to Matt’s back. He was adjusting. It was easier these days, knowing what came next, and the little added sparks of white hot bliss he got as Matt pushed in just cracked his patience more. “F-fuck, motherfucker, move!” He did not have to be told twice. He wasn’t sure he could stop anyway, with Jimmy’s body clinging and hot around his cock. Like a fucking glove, seriously. He barely got in all the way before he was pulling out again, groaning, shuddering. He could hear the strain in Jimmy’s voice, but he was buzzed on beer and horny as fuck. And those long legs wrapped around him weren’t giving an inch. Matt braced a hand on the floor, used the other to grip the drummer’s hip and gave him what he wanted. Fuck, he was going to be sore tomorrow, but he couldn’t care, not with Matt moving the way he was, thrusting in just hard enough, managing to find the right angle more often than not. He couldn’t help but arch up, head tipped back to press into the floor, hips trying to move against the larger man’s grip. “Yeah, yeah, shit…” Matt grunted harshly, breath coming quick and ragged with his thrusts. Jimmy was always a sight to behold, but like this, spread out, naked… He was all pale, inked skin, shining with a light glaze of sweat, messy, dark hair that only got wilder as he tipped and twisted his head, blue, blue eyes dark, feral. He always managed to be so demanding and desperate at once, never one thing at a time. He was wild and impossible and utterly fucking beautiful. “God, Jim, fuck.” He let go of the taller man’s hip, reaching to grip his cock, stroking fast and sudden. He wasn’t going to last and he was taking the drummer with him. Jimmy couldn’t help but gasp, pressing back as soon as his hips were free, rocking into Matt’s thrusts, taking him deeper, crying out brokenly with it. Matt was always such a fucking perfectionist, and he loved to see him fall apart, loved to watch the bigger man scramble and fight, only to give in, in the end. It had him grinning, wide and sharp and then he was laughing, his high, half crazed sounding laugh, joy and pleasure and love and somehow, caught up in all of it, he was coming, clinging to Matt and still grinning. Only Jimmy could laugh and come at the same time. But it was just so… Rev-like that he wasn’t even that surprised. He chuckled softly, more a couple light huffs of amusement, but it got strangled when the heat around him managed to squeeze tighter and he was already close. He came with a ragged groan, dipping his head to press his face to the drummer’s neck, messily mouthing the inked cuff there, riding out his orgasm with a few extra thrusts. His grin was toothy and satisfied and he let his eyes close to feel Matt above him, feel him shudder, the heat spilling deep inside. He slipped a hand up, fingers running through the short strands of Matt’s hair, holding tight. He liked the after almost as much as the sex. Sex was great, sure. (Definitely, definitely great) But he also loved just pressing close to someone, feeling the satisfaction and warmth, sated and loose. His stomach was sticky with his own come and if he didn’t clean it off, he’d probably regret it later. But Matt was settling down, slightly to one side, but mostly on top of him. He was larger, mass-wise, but not heavy enough to make it hard to breathe. Jimmy really kinda liked the feel of him, right up against and on top of his own body. So he didn’t bother to move, just settled in, rolling his eyes as Matt started to doze. “You stereotypical macho motherfucker.” His couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice. Matt just batted, very sluggishly, at his shoulder and muttered something about beer and sex and it all being Jimmy’s fault before lapsing back into silence. “Whatever you say, big man.” He sighed lightly, relaxing back into the carpet. Maybe a nap wasn’t a terrible idea. His eyes were just drifting shut, mind giving in to the call of sleep when he caught sight of movement, barely registering before darkness claimed him fully. Messy hair and dark, dark eyes and a familiar leanly muscled form slipping silently back into the back lounge.
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