Chapter 2

“The Sparrow's Eyes... Promises shift into judgments
I cannot deny that you were designed for my punishments…”

Once Corey’s leg healed up well enough to move around easier and Shawn gave his blessing on it too, Jim took the singer to his place. His friend’s silence didn’t last only in the car drive, but it went on. He barely communicated with anyone and this general silence only added to Jim’s worries. Two days ago Jim drove home for a change of clothes and to get rid of all the booze in the house. He even prepared the closest guestroom to his own bedroom, but now he was unsure about what to do.

They just got inside and he locked the door behind him. But what should he say to Corey where to put his things they picked up during a quick stop at the singer’s place? Jim’s indecision was caused by the fact that during the few days they’d spent at Shawn’s he and Corey mostly slept in one bed. Maybe he’d like to stay close to Jim like that here too. It wouldn’t be a problem to Jim, but he had to leave that decision to Corey.

Instead of saying anything about it, Jim headed towards his music room/studio with one of Corey’s favorite acoustic guitars. “Make yourself at home, man. I’ll be right back,” he said, giving his friend a few minutes.

Sticking to his decision Corey stayed silent and just nodded staring after Jim and the guitar. He dropped his bag with his little stuff on the living room's floor with a big sigh looking around. He knew the place. Had stayed for a night or two before in this house, sometimes for jamming and working some tracks out, sometimes for personal pleasure. Looking at the open doors for a good four minutes, he pushed more open the one to Jim's bedroom and dragged his stuff to the foot of the bed. After all, he owed Jim that. And maybe Corey wasn't really ready to stay alone with himself during the long nights.

Returning from the music room Jim found Corey in the master bedroom. His eyes jumped to the bag resting by the foot of his bed. So he made his decision. Taking a deep breath the tall man exhaled slowly. The relieved feeling he felt from Corey’s choice surprised him a bit. It made breathing a bit easier for Jim. Shaking that feeling off, he focused on his friend again.

“I’m going to order some food for lunch and thought we could watch some movies today. Chinese sounds good?” he asked from the door while pulling his phone out of his jeans’ pocket to scroll down to the restaurant’s number.

“Yeah, fried pasta and some gung bao for me, please. What movies would you like?” the singer asked hoping for some of the horror collection of Jim's, or maybe some superhero movie. He stayed close to the other man till he ordered the food, and tried to keep it cool and easy. He has to at least pretend to be better.

Jim noticed that Corey stuck close to him, but he didn’t mind. He hoped that he just had to find a way to break the delicate tension between them. Which Jim hated as fuck. One of the things he liked most about Corey was that their friendship/relationship/whatever came mostly naturally and without much complication. Now the situation was understandably different, but it didn’t mean Jim had to like this change.

“I was thinking about re-watching the Iron Man movie, but I’m also up for the X-Men movies or whatever. Even Batman,” he flashed a little smile at Corey as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and tossed it in an armchair in the corner which already had some of his clothes on it. “You can choose whatever you want,” he added as he waved in the general direction of his DVD collection and the flat screen on the wall. “I’ll make a quick phone call meanwhile,” he said kicking off his shoes and socks too. Then he squeezed Corey’s shoulder encouragingly on his way to the other room.

“X-Men sounds good,” the singer nodded and went to the shelf to search for the DVD while Jim made some business calls. He had no idea how things would go. His friend was tense and worried. And he hated it. He should try to approach him like before... But from the thought of getting a tiny bit more personal and physical gave his guts a twist and his throat threatening to choke him as the memory of the soulmate he’d lost was aching inside his heart still very alive.

After quickly updating Shawn and Cristina who was touring with her band, Jim handled a very short call with their management too. By the time he was finished, the food arrived. Padding to the door barefooted he paid then got everything on trays along with some soda for the two of them and got back into the bedroom. Of course he had no idea about Corey’s inner turmoil. But at least he was eating again even if half the portion he usually did. Jim considered this little triumph progress too.

They were eating in silence while watching the movie until Jim popped his coke open and leaned back on the couch. “This was always one of my favorite ones not just because of the mutant powers but the social outcasts and injustice themes too,” he said on a light tone to break the awkward silence between them. Damn, this was harder than he thought it would be.

“Yeah, they are cool. I've heard they will make more and cover the whole story so far. Marvel’s really starting to build like... a fucking world in movies,” Corey said finally enthusiastic. He was the biggest geek in the band after all. The topic seemed to ease him up a bit at least.

“I’ve heard that too. I’ll be curious about the Wolverine origins story. It’s scheduled to come out next year. He’s a cool dude with a shitty past and some rough attitude. One of the most entertaining characters,” Jim relaxed a bit and took a drink from his coke before putting the can on the nightstand. Stretching out and crossing his long legs at the ankles Jim looked at his friend. “Which character would you give an own movie?”

“Nightcrawler,” he nodded without hesitation. “He is the total outcast and afraid of the humans and also has a very special power and even origin as he was more created than born. And maybe Mystique,” Corey even gave a little smile to Jim as he looked up at him. “You've heard of the Avengers movie?”

"True, Nightcrawler is an awesome character. I also love Mystique and how Magneto – good or bad decisions aside – lets her be herself on his side, you know," Jim nodded and smiled back at Corey. They were finally getting somewhere. "Nope. They gonna make a movie with them? That's gonna be pretty sick if they do. I'd love a movie for Rogue. Dunno. I kinda liked that chick from the beginning," he shrugged putting an arm behind his head as his eyes drifted back to the screen. "She's kinda cute with her crush on Wolverine."

“She kicks fucking ass!” Corey giggled leaning back too. “Yeah they’re fucking making movies from the Thor-Loki shit from the comics with Ultron and all. It will be dope, man!” he looked back at the screen too for a while before turning to Jim again. “You don't happen to have a beer at home, am I right?”

“Fuck, I love the Thor-Loki shit too. Asgard, mischief, Viking mythology and all that,” Jim hummed on his deep voice. “Maybe I should grow a fucking long beard some day,” he ran his fingers through his currently short one. “I’m excited about this whole comic book adaptation thing. There are some pretty sick and serious shit going on in some of the stories and it’s refreshing in the movie industry, I think,” he added then met Corey’s questioning look.

“Nope. No alcohol, man. I promised to help, remember?” he said with a calm smile to show Corey that all was good and he wasn’t pissed off or annoyed because of the question. “Come here,” he waved with his hand which wasn’t behind his head. It was an open invitation for some cuddling, because Jim had already noticed that often his closeness was enough to help Corey calm down. Besides he didn’t want this progress to go down the drain with his friend feeling bad about asking and closing off again.

“Sorry...” the singer muttered but moved close to the taller body and actually hugged Jim, laying his head on the other's chest, staying there just accepting the caring love Jim was giving him while watching the movie. “You would look fucking sick with a long Viking beard, though...”

 ***

After that in the following days things got a bit easier communication-wise. Jim continued keeping an eye on Corey, but he didn’t force his presence on him. He gave him space if he needed or stayed with him when the singer clearly couldn’t bear the thought of staying alone with his demons. Sometimes simply staying in the same room seemed to do the trick.

Other times – like that day – Jim told Corey where he was going to be in the house. He always left the doors open for him so that’s why the guitar tunes could be heard louder from the music room’s direction.

It was Jim practicing after tuning one of his precious girls. He wanted to steer Corey back towards music, because he knew it was the best outlet for a musician or singer when something was eating them up on the inside. And Corey had enough on his plate. But even if he didn’t come, Jim needed the practice too. Not that he’d forget anything. No, it was his way of processing things and expressing his emotions, and although he has been focused mostly on Corey lately, he had his own grieving to do. Besides Paul’s funeral was coming up too. Just the close family and friends. Jim had to make sure Corey could get through it in one piece. Maybe music would be enough of a mortar to keep the shaky foundation together.

Corey found himself fiddling on his guitar more and more as he seemed to start to find his sanctuary again in music. Although he tried his best to not think of the day ahead, he always found himself in tears, his thoughts drifting back to Paul. How could he face the Gray family now? A poor unborn girl left fatherless because of him being a greedy bitch. He should have let Paul go without any remarks. Not writing these fucking songs and keep getting back together with him as lovers. But Corey couldn't help it… His soul and heart was always aching for the big guy, and now as the dark guilt gave him another huge bite in the ass, he didn't even notice through his tears and the fucked up voices inside that Jim has been watching him for a good few minutes by then.

Jim knew the exact moment Corey wandered into the room, but he didn’t stop jamming on his guitar while sitting on his favorite stool. He only glimpsed up to watch him pick up his acoustic instrument to start fiddling with it. That brought a faint smile to the tall man’s face, but when the unsure notes died down for more than a minute, he looked up again and stopped his own playing when he saw tears streaming down on Corey’s face which had a grave expression on it.

Fuck, he thought while watching the broken man. His demons had a tight grip on him that day, it seemed. On instinct he put his guitar down and walked over to the silently crying man. Taking the acoustic from his hands Jim put it on a nearby stand then stepped back to Corey, putting a big hand on the back of his head to pull it against his stomach. That way the singer could hide enough and Jim’s hand on his skull gave the illusion of shielding him from the world – even if he couldn’t shield Corey from his own demons.

“Talk to me, Corey. I’m here,” he murmured softly, hoping that finally he’d be able to open up and let the venomous thoughts pour out to ease the inner turmoil in him. Jim could feel in his muscles and shaking how tense the singer was from it.

The redhead held onto Jim like his life depended on it. He couldn't calm down his shaking, not now, only hours away from laying his other half into the ground. “It's all my fault…” he whispered low on a shaking voice. “He is gone ‘cause of me...” his sobs took over him and he couldn't stop for a good ten minutes.

During those long minutes while Jim was just standing there cradling Corey’s head, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to tell Corey that he was wrong or anything like that. Partly because Jim didn’t exactly know what went down between his friends. He knew enough about their relationship to understand that it was a difficult one. Although he doubted it was all Corey’s fault, he kept his opinion to himself for now. And partly because he instinctively knew that the singer needed a silent support at the moment and Jim knew from experience that he was good at least in that. So that’s what he gave Corey and kept gently caressing his head as he let his friend’s sobbing continue.

Once Corey’s crying died down somewhat, Jim handed him a tissue and pulled his stool closer. Picking up the guitar he played on previously, he plunked a few chords. “I’ve started working on this piece a few days before…” he trailed off and started playing a slow but passionate riff that was building up beautifully as it progressed. Now it made sense to him why the melody came to him so shortly before all this happened.

 ***

After all, the funeral was nice and worthy of the memory of someone as iconic as Paul. Corey had to agree with that. Still as they all placed their own tributes to the grave and the man it held, Corey's shaking just got worse. Paul's pregnant wife and the families there, the way all the angel, Buddha and demon statutes were placed down, it all started to look like a small altar to a temple to be built in the future to his gone love. Only that thought and sight held him together. Paul got the respect he deserved.

He could feel Jim keeping near him, even overheard as Shawn and Chris both told the tall man to take care of the singer.

He is just a burden. He was to his mother, to Scarlet and to Paul and while he kept playing with Jim he is now decaying yet another life.

Even now he could feel Jimmy faintly caressing his forearm time to time in his sleep as the singer was pulled close to his chest. Corey was just making him worry too much. He noticed that the ever self-conscious man started to gain his belly back again – a clear sigh of stress in his metabolism.

The small man just sighed long and kept staring at the night sky, trying not to give into his thoughts, but as his tired brain drifted into dreamland again and again for a short time, the vivid painful visions kept creeping back from his past mistakes, ending him up in a restless nightmare.

It was a hard day on all of them. They had put a man to rest who was so important to all of them. Jim was an only child with parents who tried to kinda support him in their own way. The Nine, as they sometimes called themselves, had a very special place in the guitarist’s life. They had a deep connection and Jim considered each of them the brothers he never had. It’s true that family is much more than blood. They were one big extended family and burying one of their brothers was a tragedy for all of them.

Jim promised Shawn and Chris that he’d continue keeping an eye on Corey who was one step away from completely falling apart. Jim didn’t say it out loud just thought that he’d give Corey anything that he thought could help the singer from spiraling downwards into the darkness that was obviously beckoning him.

As they were lying in bed and Jim drifted in and out of his restless sleep, his tired mind was replaying the events of the day. He could still hear the rich earth landing on the box, saw the mourning faces of the people, felt the light wind that was drying his own silent tears on his face. Each time he woke from these dreams for a moment, his fingers automatically caressed Corey’s forearm that was draped over Jim’s middle.

Around dawn he woke up to a tight grip on his side, nails digging into his skin and some faint whines. Jim instantly knew that Corey was having a nightmare. He instinctively started caressing the singer’s nape and back while murmuring some calming words. It seemed they both were having a hard time getting some much needed rest.

The singer was lost deep in his dark dreams. He was looking for an opening in the ground at night under the light of the full moon. He felt lost and desperate dragging a shovel around and digging hole after hole and somehow the ground kept "throwing" him out. He dug lower with his hands, screaming in despair and frustration. He felt like he had to find a way down to have peace and to be able to finally rest. He was so, so tired. His body was aching from a sharp pain, throughout his spine and head a lighting-like striking pain rushed over from time to time, jerking his whole being and somehow getting him more out of the self-dug hole.

He had to catch his breath and looked up. On the sides of the hole there was the Nine. Jim was crying low, holding the hand of Corey’s son, Griffin. They all looked down at him, his grandmother and sister too. Neatly dressed in black. It was his grave he was digging and heard the voices of his first love and Paul from afar. They kept telling him to go back. He only felt that they had rejected him. They were mad ‘cause he couldn't keep them alive. They threw him back to the surface, back to life but he didn’t want it. He wanted to go down to them. He needed to go down. And the stares of the others he was trying to leave behind didn't help to make him change his mind.

Worry pulled Jim’s brows together as he looked down at the dreaming man. He didn’t care about the nails digging into his side, the only thing he wanted to do was to help his friend. He kept caressing and lightly massaging Corey’s nape and neck while his other hand gently shook the singer’s forearm to wake him from the nightmare. Jim’s tee was getting wet on his chest, which was a clear indication that Corey was crying in his sleep.

“Corey… Corey, wake up. It’s just a dream. Corey, come back to me,” Jim said a bit louder than earlier. His throat closed up and his chest tightened from the worry he was feeling. He knew how fucked up things his friend could dream about and he usually took the symbolism of those dreams seriously. Hell, quite a number of elements of these dreams ended up in Corey’s lyrics or their videos. The smaller man could get so completely lost in his head that it sometimes scared even Jim.

For example, he remembered well how Corey got while and after recording the “Iowa” song (and the whole album, for that matter). Even Clown was shaken from what he saw. Jim couldn’t stay long once Corey started cutting himself. He went so deep that time and the guitarist was worried he might not come back. He wanted to stop him, but Shawn was right, Corey had to give that out. Long years after losing his first love he needed at least some form of closure. But it was hard to watch it. So in order not to step in and to let Corey work some of his grief and self-guilt out of his system, Jim had left the studio for a good few hours. He smoked cigarette after cigarette and snorted up quite some coke too in a weak attempt to handle what he saw, but it only got worse from that. He remembered the healing cuts afterwards. It happened very rarely that Jim said he hated a song, but “Iowa” was one of those. He too couldn’t really listen to it. He doubted he’d ever be able to. He never played it on his free time either.

While trying to wake the messed up singer, he was silently begging the universe not to have to see Corey like that or like how he found him in that van again. There was so much Jim could do – or bear before breaking himself. He was already so stressed and restless, a constant tight pain in his chest... Yes, it was starting to show on him physically too, but he didn’t care. Not this time. This time he swore that he wasn’t going to leave – even if Corey ends up in that state again. Putting all his personal feelings aside, Jim was going to dedicate himself to help his friend through this shit storm. He’ll stick around no matter what. Corey was too valuable and worth it. Even if the singer never saw that.

Jim was calling him back, he couldn't dig lower and felt deadly exhausted. He heard Jim’s voice louder and with a sudden cut his eyes opened and he jumped back shaking and screaming as his mind was torn from the dream so fast. He sat back on his heels and buried his sweaty, tear-covered face in his trembling hands howling low from all the remains of what he just felt minutes ago. Mind totally blank now as it took a good few minutes for him to stop and look at Jim.

This dream had a tight grip on Corey, it was easy to see that because it took Jim a few minutes to be able to wake him from it. And clearly the singer got fucked up from the sudden end of the nightmare. Jim sat up too when Corey practically jumped out of his arms. What the fuck did he dream about this time? Jim wanted to ask it, but decided against it while watching his friend so shaken up from it. That scream was still ringing in the guitarist’s ear as his eyes met the bewildered blue ones once Corey was able to look at him. Jim slowly reached out and wiped away the smeared tears with his slender fingers.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” he murmured under his nose on a hopefully calming tone.

Yes. Jim was there. Corey held the gentle hand to his face closing his eyes with a sigh and got closer to the other man, folding his still slightly shaking arms around the long neck, rubbing his face to the crook of it while he climbed on his lap, straddling Jim, his strong thighs pulling them close to each other. He wasn't thinking. He was done thinking. All these feelings kept choking him for so long. He needed to feel something else, needed to feel alive to not slip lower. He kissed along the jaw of Jim, pressing his ass to the groin he felt awaking under him as he pressed a desperate needy kiss to the guitarist's lips.

Jim’s thumb brushed against Corey’s cheek as the singer kept his hand there and felt a bit surprised from the sudden display of affection as Corey climbed onto his lap and buried his face into his neck. The hot breath puffing against his sleep-warm skin and then the kisses against his jaw made the tension somewhat bleed out of Jim. He relaxed against Corey and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt those desperate lips against his. It sent a sudden jolt of desire into his groin.

He wanted to ask if Corey was sure about this, but he had no heart to break the spell they both fell under. Besides Corey probably would’ve taken it as if Jim was refusing him and that’s something the guitarist didn’t want to do. Ever. So his long tattooed arms slid around Corey to keep him close while his mouth opened up to let their tongues meet half-way. It’s been so damn long that he could hold the other man like this and he didn’t care if this was right or wrong. He just wanted to get lost in the moment with Corey, no matter what the reason was behind it.

Jim held him with his long, long arms and that made Corey let out a relived sigh as they deepened the kiss. For a faint second it crossed his mind that Jim would pull away from him, but his part-time lover was still accepting his affection.

In his dream while he wanted to go to those who were most dear to his soul, looking up he saw the one living being closest to him protected by Jim. Jim was holding and consoling Corey's son in the nightmare. Making him realize the fact that by now the tall man also held a place in his very core.

And damn he was soooo tall... Now as they were kissing and caressing each other even in this position Jim was towering over his small form. The singer felt lost and safe so close to him, with a low moan he was practically grinding against the hardness of the other one. Taking the hem of Jim's shirt he pulled back knowing his friend well to ask: “Can I?”

All doubts and thoughts were quickly fading from Jim’s mind as his strong fingers were digging into Corey’s flesh. He had no idea that he needed this so badly too. Jim tended to forget about himself when it came to Corey and his well-being. He had no idea why, but it was just like that ever since they became close friends (then lovers). So he was giving just as good as he was getting. He pushed his tongue into the other man’s mouth and groaned a bit into the kiss as he felt that firm ass move closer as it slid along his quickly hardening cock. Fuck, Corey, Jim thought feeling the air quickly getting hot around them as desire flooded his body.

He’d missed this and he found himself kissing and bucking back just as desperately. Corey always had the ability to fuck with Jim’s mind and he let the singer pull him along for this ride. Something that resembled a coherent thought sparkled in the back of his mind only when the singer paused, his fingers closed around the hem of Jim’s shirt. The guitarist took a moment to swallow hard and pant on Corey’s wet lips as he was trying to fight down the uncomfortable feeling that tried to ruin the moment. He’d always been self-conscious about his body and hated that damn fat that has started collecting on his mid-section again. He thought it was ugly as fuck and it was his sworn enemy. Because of this sometimes he felt like an idiotic chick, other times he didn’t give a fuck and tried to work out a bit or eat less, but lately he didn’t have the time or energy for neither. Corey never minded it though. And they both needed this so Jim took a shaky breath and nodded, putting his arms up so that Corey could pull the shirt off. The second it was gone, Jim’s hands did the same with the singer’s tee then his arms were back around him, sliding down to his ass to squeeze and knead it through his boxers.

Their lips crashed together again and Jim leaned back against his pillow, pulling Corey with him. He only broke the kiss for a moment until he wetted his fingers with his own saliva then slid them under Corey’s boxer at the back to rub against his crack and opening with a low, promising growl as he was biting along the thick neck.

Pulling the shirt of Jim was a big thing, Corey knew well. He adored the other man getting bigger, though... He always said and felt like that about Paul's weight too, saying that there was more to love. Guess, it could be stated that the singer had a thing for big men.

His hands smoothed over the bare sides and belly of Jim, groaning aroused from the feeling and the erection bucking up to him. Lying upon the long body he rose his butt to let Jim rub him, one hand sliding between them to pull on the guitarist's flesh, twisting his palm at the tip. He felt the blood rushing in his veins, heard it in his ears. He needed to feel this so much and as fast as he possibly could.

Goose bumps broke out on Jim’s skin and his wet fingers rubbed harder against the tight opening as he felt Corey’s hands on him. He groaned and let his head fall back against the pillow when strong fingers closed around his aching erection. “Fuck…” he said out of breath and steadily pushed a finger into the hot body above him, his other hand scratching the singer’s nape. He so wished that he had long hair again so that he could pull on it – like Paul did that one time Jim saw the two in that hotel room.

For a split second he felt bad for doing this so soon after the one man’s death who meant everything to Corey. It intensified the pain in Jim’s chest for a moment, and then he forced himself to chase the thought away. This was… this was to help Corey. Or both of them. There was no stopping now. The second finger sliding up into the other man so easily only stressed this so the second Jim found Corey’s prostate, he began rubbing it to give some much needed pleasure to the heartbroken singer.

“Fucking Jesus!” the singer cried out trembling at the sudden rush of pleasure exploding over his body. He pushed back against those long fingers, panting for more. He wanted to feel, dying to feel anything that would make his brain stop messing him up. Peeling Jim's cock free he moved forward, resting his forehead on the other one's. Placing his hands on the hairy chest he dug his nails deep into the plump flesh with delight.

“Please, Jim... I want to feel you now,” the begging tone rolled off him so naturally, even though with this man he never used it. He got off Jim, pulled his boxers off and got on all fours beside him, then lowering his body like a laying down puppy, his small round ass all offered up while he looked at the bigger man with passion-lit eyes. “Please...”

The nails sinking into his skin caused a lustful moan from Jim as he looked up at Corey. Arousal was such a better look on the singer. The guitarist let himself admire the flushed and tattooed skin. At some places he could already see sweat forming as Corey was moving back against his fingers so wantonly. Despite everything that’d happened or the white bandage on his healing thigh, Jim found him fucking hot. He always found him hot.

Corey’s words brought him back to the here and now and his breath hitched when he heard that certain tone. It was the first time he used it with him. It slightly surprised Jim, but at the same time his heart sped up and his cock slightly jumped in Corey’s hand. Luckily before he could say or do something that would ruin the moment, the other man climbed off him and then Jim got speechless anyway. The way Corey displayed himself was… fucking beautiful and arousing and all Jim wanted to do is bury himself deep into the offered body.

He kicked his own underwear down then rolled onto his side to get on his knees not so gracefully, but he didn’t care just knelt behind Corey and ran his big hands down the tattooed back to cup the pale globes, eyes fixed on the contracting hole that was waiting only for him. He took a few shallow breaths, his wavy hair falling into his eye as he spit into his palm a few times to lube up his cock with it and his pre-cum then he was there, steadily pushing himself deeper and deeper quietly cursing from the hot tightness.

Finally... Corey laid his forehead on the bed, whining and growling as he felt Jim more and more inside him. It was so long ago, he will be sore for a day or so... He was underlining that "now" to Jim to say how he wanted him, and he was not disappointed when the other didn't use more lubricant. The small sharp stings of pain made him wince and moan – he couldn't get enough of it. The pain made his adrenalin rush in his brain, highlighting everything and dragging him out of the fog he was in. Finally feeling his body being alive and his heart racing so hard it choked up his throat, he had to reach back and dig his fingers into Jim's thighs to make him get as close as possible. The small trembling man pushed back and grinded his hips with a whole palette of noises from small high cries to throaty groans of joy. He was going crazy from all this.

That hot tightness was driving the other man crazy too. Not to mention all the fucking sexy noises Corey was making. Jim was always kinda in love with Corey’s voice – not just the singing voice, but his regular voice too, but the sounds he was making while pushing back onto his aching cock were unparalleled. They urged Jim to coax more of those sounds out of the small man so he drove into him harder and faster, his own control slipping as his hips were rolling back and forth.

Fuck, he’d missed this! Not just the fucking, but fucking Corey. He was always so responsive and needy, always wanting more. Faster, harder, deeper. And Jim was doing his best to live up to those expectations. His own groans and moans soon joined Corey’s as his nails dug deep into the flesh on the singer’s hips while pulling him back to meet each of his powerful thrusts.

“Moreee...” Corey groaned out of breath as he was bucking back hard against Jim. He tightened his inner walls over the pulsing member to encourage the other to fuck him harder. He loved it. Always did. Jim was so into pleasing him and watching every sign he made and giving him what he needed. They were always in perfect sync and now as he wanted more than ever before, Jim gave him the rougher treatment he starved for. It was amazing and soul-wrenching and insane and all he needed was to feel it more till he could lose every pressure he kept inside.

It was insane, raw and frantic. Nearly like the first time in that dressing room. They both were running on instincts now, but this was harder than that first time. Back then Jim didn’t dare to let go, because it was all knew and he was a bit insecure since he didn’t know what Corey liked, but he remembered clearly how much the singer enjoyed the pain in that hotel room. Jim knew he could take it, so when Corey tightened his walls around him, nearly causing for Jim to lose it right then and there, he let go of the other’s hip with one hand and pressed it on the back of his neck to keep the singer’s head down against the bed.

Sweat was running down on his face and body, his long hair was sticking to his skin and tickled along Corey’s back as he leaned down to lick along his spine while fucking him. Then he did what his instincts dictated and bit him hard on his shoulder to take and mark him (as his). He got so lost in the moment that he didn’t even entertain the thought why he wanted to leave his mark on him or call Corey “his” in the first place. He was just biting him over and over until he tasted blood.

Corey always loved to be fucked by Jim, and this was now Jim but much more of a man he needed and all the thrill and side of the Jim who was losing himself and was getting wild and raw was something that played on the strings of the singer's soul as perfectly as the man played his guitar. His face was pushed into the sheet, he was losing his breath at the feeling as the bigger body was hovering over his small one with ease… the deep rough thrusts getting wilder and out of control but the biting...

Corey could hear his own long roaring scream from far through his ecstatic state as all this made his eyes roll back and he let himself be just one pure nerve ending, over-flooded with pleasure, cumming hard with all his muscles cramping in small waves. It left him shaking and crying and howling totally out of control and from this physical world. Just how he needed it.

To stop a starting cramp in his thigh Jim shifted even closer to Corey, his balls slapping against the other man as he was moving in and out of the oh so willing body, the taste of Corey’s blood on his tongue and lips sending a shiver down on his spine. Jim was so damn close and when he heard the “dying” noises the singer was making and felt his walls tighten even more around him, he only needed a few more uncontrolled thrusts to blow his load into the other man’s shaking and sweaty body with a series of his own raw yells of pleasure.

It was so fucking intense that he had to lean on his forearms, fucking them both through their orgasms while panting onto Corey’s fresh wounds. He unwittingly licked the blood off his lips and the wounds too in between two sips of air. He was still not thinking. The pain in his chest had eased up by then and for the first time in a long while he felt better and kinda serene. One would say they were both out of it, completely lost in what they’d just lived through.

It took some time for Jim to come down from this new high and as he looked at Corey, he saw that the singer was still further away than him, so Jim used the opportunity to gently slide out of him and get off the bed to pad to the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs. This was the part in this new world he’d wandered into which he didn’t want to miss or fuck up. The cleaning up bit. He’d have done it anyway, but now that he already did some research about it, he knew that the aftercare was an important part of BDSM.

BDSM… A few years, hell, even a few months ago he’d never have seen himself venturing into this world. But Corey had his way to turn your whole life upside down without noticing it. As Jim poured some warm water on a washcloth by the sink, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for the singer.

Walking back into the room he saw that Corey was still blissed out, but Jim swallowed hard seeing how much damage he did on the man’s right shoulder with all the biting. Maybe he already fucked up? Well, time – or Corey – will tell, right? Moving closer he started gently cleaning Corey’s abused hole then moved him a bit to be able to do the same on his front. After that he quietly took the disinfectant that was still nearby because of the wounds on the singer’s thigh and carefully cleaned the bitemarks too before covering them with some gauze and medical tape. Once done he slid back into the bed and pulled the singer to him. He stayed silent for a couple of minutes while he tried to process what just went down between them. He was quite shocked at how wild he got, how easily his instincts took over. That raging demon that marked Corey was new – and a bit scary to Jim himself.

Next chapter

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