Chapter 7

“Now... I can finally be myself
Cuz I don't want to be myself…”

The morning came blurry for Corey. His mind recalled the events slowly as he sat up and smoked his first cigarette, watching over the completely spread out Jim soundly snoring with a rather content expression on his face.

Corey smiled. He pleased his mate as he could best and found him abso-fucking-lutely gorgeous. After Jim came down from his orgasmic high, Corey joined him by his own as he had his left hand deep in his boxers while treating his man as he deserved. The way Jim fell apart made him mess up his pants too. The after cuddle and making out till they fell asleep was sweet and melted the singer’s heart.

Although, they had to talk about these things when they both were fully conscious again. He couldn't help but feel that he was pushing Jim deeper into misery and addiction.

Not much later Jim woke with a groan and a sigh that was still content, although he still felt somewhat tired. As he rolled on his side, he remembered the night before and it made him slightly blush as his eyes met Corey’s. “Hey… Morning…” he grumbled on his deep after-sleep voice and a sheepish smile. Then he sat up, ignoring the headache that has been waiting just for that to strike. Turning to the nightstand to fetch a bottle of water he paused for a second seeing the clear evidence of what he’d done before Corey got back to their room. He was stupid to leave it lying around like that, but oh well. The cat was out of the bag. Drinking half of the water he put it down and lit up a cigarette too before turning back to the singer who was watching him.

“So… last night…” the naked man hummed, knowing that a discussion about it was probably on its way.

“Last night you were amazing,” Corey said with a loving smile. “You know that you can talk about anything with me, right Jimmy? I also promised that I’ll help you with everything I can,” he said on a calm voice. He was not mad at Jim. He just wanted the other man to talk about what led him to reach back to cocaine.

The guitarist exhaled the smoke slowly while trying to decide which topic to address first. He knew that the real question hiding behind Corey’s words was: why did he use again? So ripping off that band aid was probably better to get over with, although he saw it in the blue eyes that he wasn’t judging Jim.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have, but… I couldn’t fight the urge anymore. This tour, man… it’s fucking hard on all of us. I dearly miss Pauly too, you know. I loved talking shop with him or writing songs, joking around… or whatever. I guess being on the road without him… seeing how it affects you… us… everyone…” Jim paused shaking his head with a bitter sigh. “And then this fucked up shit with Sid… and my stupid messy head… I can’t and don’t want to change who you are, Corey… I just… I had to… because of the pressure. But if you expect me to apologize, I won’t. I needed that. Like you feel the need to sneak out to drink on your own,” he added softly at the end, glimpsing back at the singer.

“I would never ask for an apology ‘cause of it. I'm not better, as you pointed out. Probably for the same reasons,” Corey shrugged lifting a cigarette too. “I just want to take care of you and look after you just as you do to me.”

“And I can’t say just how grateful I’m for that. Until last night… I had no fucking idea I needed this too, you know,” he said then took another drag before flicking the ash into the ashtray on the nightstand. “You were amazing too…” he licked his lips and stole a glance of the singer before finishing his smoke. “It was nothing like when I’d played with myself once or twice in the past. And I think… if you are okay with it… I might need you to… sometimes… take me apart like that. It helped… to feel like I belonged to you. That you need and want me too. I know, I’m fucked up too, aren’t I?” he chuckled bitterly. “Fucking insecurities. I’m sorry about that at least. I’m trying to overcome them, I swear.”

Corey stood and walked over to his mate straddling him and hugging his neck with a smile. “You are perfect, Jimmy. I don't want you any other way. Please, remember that... No matter what you feel or think. You are beautiful and very, very fucking sexy for me,” he said almost moaning the last part on Jim’s lips as he kissed him.

These words were heart-warming for the guitarist as he swallowed hard, holding Corey close. “I’ll try to remember that,” he smiled a bit and kissed the singer’s lips gently, ignoring the slight throbbing of his head. “Just remember too that I’m yours as long as you want me,” he stroked along Corey’s equally naked back.

“So… are you gonna keep sneaking off to drink alone? Or are you gonna sometimes invite me too?” he asked after stubbing out his cigarette and propped his head against the headboard, but his long fingers kept sliding on the other’s warm skin in a comforting and loving manner, sometimes moving as if he was slowly playing a melody on Corey’s back. “How are you really?”

“It's not some ‘happy pub time’ kind of drinking. I order a few shots and drown them in seconds to have them affect me fast then I leave. It's all for the alcohol. You know how it is... And… when I go out like that, it's like the need you had before exploding into shreds. It's just hard now. As you said… Pauly is not with us on stage. Though, I can feel him, around me, with me…”

“I guessed it was about the alcohol, not socializing. I’m familiar with the method. This is a demon we share, Cor,” he nodded with a deeply understanding expression. “I’m just worried about you when you’re out there alone. My mind keeps projecting fucked up things. You know, the stupid ‘what ifs’. What if an accident happens or what if some fans or the press finds you, what if you get lost and so on. But at the same time I get it too… The need to be on your own,” Jim said while stroking along Corey’s spine absently.

“And I’m positive Paul’s still around you, us. Looking out for us or something. He’s probably annoyed about the state the band is in at the moment,” he smiled sadly. “We should try to talk more with the others too. Everyone’s lost in their own fucked up world at the moment. It’s not good for any of us. Although I’m still pissed at that fucking kid,” he snorted good-heartedly.

“Yeah… Paul wanted the band to go on... We’re all trying though… Everyone needs time to get somewhat used to this. Even if we hate it,” Corey said laying his head on the shoulder of his mate, absently playing with the longer wisps of his hair. He wanted to get drunk, maybe make Jim fuck him hard then pass out. He didn't want to think at all.

“I agree. Everyone’s dealing on their own way. I guess that’s why I allowed myself to drink more again… and then the coke last night,” he murmured. “What do you want to do? You know that I won’t say no either, right? Let me help you deal, baby,” he murmured, caressing the soft short hair of the singer. Jim felt like he needed to return some of what he got the night before. Corey didn’t say no to Jim’s suggestion, so it seemed this was going to be a vice versa thing from now on. Jim was completely okay with that.

“I know. I'm grateful that you let me so close to you,” he murmured and nuzzled Jim's neck and maybe pressed his body closer to the other's as if wanting to hide away from everything. “Stop my brain from saying shit…” he breathed on an almost broken voice.

Jim closed his eyes for a moment, holding Corey tighter too, their hearts beating close like this. “Only you, Cor. And I’ll want you even closer,” he whispered and turned his head to press a kiss to the singer’s head then gently rolled over with him to give him a deep, slow kiss.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he murmured and crawled out of the bed to pad into the bathroom butt naked. After taking a much needed leak, he washed and dried his hands then rummaged in the drawer under the sink. He already knew how he could give Corey what he needed. Pulling out a plastic bag from behind the pipes he made quick work of making two strong joints for them – as starters.

Back in the room he lit them up and gave Corey one then grabbed a few small bottles of liquor – not checking what they were – from the mini fridge. (They somehow survived Jim’s raid from last night.) Putting those on the bed too he took a puff from his own pot and paused for a moment, thinking through what else he needed and went to his carryon bag.

Within two minutes he was sitting on the bed, smoking and drinking with the singer, some silk ropes and a brand new choking chain lying on the creased linen next to them.

Corey was watching in silence as his master got busy, puffing on the pot and enjoying every atom of the strong stuff making his brain ease up. He couldn't help panting watching over the items Jim had laid out. “I am your puppy…” he whispered looking deep into his master's eyes. He felt like a starving vampire and as it seemed Jim knew exactly what he needed the most. “You bought a new chain? You actually went into a sex shop because of me? I do not fucking deserve you...”

“You are,” Jim used his dominant tone, slowly slipping into his character as the weed started to work in his system too. Cracking two vodkas open he handed one to his pet. “Bottom’s up,” the guitarist clinked his against Corey’s then tossed it back, grunting from the taste and its burning way down. “I’m gonna take my time with you,” he announced then kept the smoke down before continuing. “We don’t have to be anywhere else for one and a half fucking day. You’ll be barely able to walk by the time I’m finished with you,” he cracked another bottle open for Corey, but not for himself.

“Yeah, I bought the chain in a shop a few cities back and was waiting for the right time to use it on that fucking sexy thick neck of yours,” Jim eyed said neck with darkening eyes, his cock already stirring. “And I’ll be the judge of what you deserve, pet,” Jim reached to grab Corey’s ankle and squeeze it both warningly and possessively. “Now drink up then lay back on your back in the middle,” he instructed as he gave Corey a third bottle then stubbed out the end of his smoke in the ashtray.

Every word Jim said made Corey more and more aroused. Adding the pot and alcohol as his mate's voice and look darkened, made the singer turn into an obedient puppy. Drowning the last bottle he did as was told and trying to even out his breathing he looked at Jim swallowing hard with a twitching cock.

Meanwhile Jim made room on the bed and put the remaining bottles on the other nightstand. Then he just sat there for a moment to let his eyes admire the naked singer so eager and ready to play. Kneeling up he lightly slapped Corey’s half-hard cock, suddenly towering over the singer. “By the time I finish tying you up, I want to see this rock-hard. Understood?” His voice was stern and demanding, hazel eyes dark and serious – if not a bit hazy and red from the pot.

With that and a motivating smack against Corey’s thigh, Jim was gone from above him to take the first rope, twisting and flattening it between his big hands. “Arms towards the corners of the bed, legs apart.” Once Corey did what he was told, Jim firmly grabbed a wrist and began tying it to the bedpost. By then he knew how to make safe but strong restraints. He loved to see them on his mate. Loved to know that he was completely at Jim’s mercy. “Beautiful…” he praised his pet once he was done, drinking in the sight.

Not that he didn't want to please his master, but he couldn't have held himself back from getting rock-hard from the treatment he got from his lover. His mind was still running but now on what his mate may have for him.

The older man first ran his long fingers across Corey’s tattooed chest, following a few outlines of the drawings there, just to see the goose bumps appear and the nipples harden. Which he, of course, twisted hard in the next moment, knowing that Corey loved pain mixed with pleasure. Yes, the singer was rock-hard, his cock resting flushed and full against his stomach. A sight the guitarist liked very fucking much. Jim licked his lips, wanting to taste it badly, but first he had to give Corey something else.

Taking the choking chain he straddled Corey’s hips, rubbing himself against the singer slowly and shamelessly as he made a loose loop on the chain. “Lift your head,” he instructed then put the chain around Corey’s neck – loose for now. Jim wanted to add to the tension with letting the cool metal rest against Corey’s warm skin first. The promise of the joy it would bring to the singer fucking with both their minds. Jim was breathing a bit faster as he ran a fingertip next to the end of the chain then he grabbed it, slowly pulling on it, while licking his other palm to take both their erections in his big hand, stroking them firmly but just as slow as the loop on the chain was moving upwards, tightening.

The singer just panted and moaned low from all the actions of his owner. His body arched to meet up the amazing skillful moves of that big strong hand, he was leaking already and losing his mind and probably would be punished if he couldn't get a hold of himself and his pleasure till he was allowed. But that tightening cold metal on his neck made him balance on the edge already.

As if reading Corey’s mind, Jim leaned closer, twisting his palm against both their tips, the chain lightly digging into the singer’s skin, his mouth hovering over the other’s. “No coming until I give permission,” he reminded his pet. “You’re so fucking gorgeous like this… You want more? Then take a deep breath, pet… You’re gonna love what’s coming next…” he chuckled and moaned and licked into Corey’s mouth for a moment before tightening the chain enough to cut his air off.

Inhaling deep the small man just trembled as the chain cut into his skin and he was left breathless. Closing his eyes he let in to the feeling as his lungs started to burn, and his mind tried to fight for air, yet it all left a reliving joy of "finally" as the ringing in his ears got louder drifting him towards fainting.

Jim was counting to himself, one hand holding the chain firmly while the other kept caressing them both. It could’ve been so easy to get lost in the pleasures. Let that darkness take over Jim to satisfy that deep hunger he’s been trying to deny and hide for so long… But instead he kept his focus on Corey’s pleasure. Something the singer needed so badly. He was so beautiful like that. Skin coloring from the oxygen-deprivation, veins protruding from that fucking thick neck, sweat forming on the delicious skin… Jim could’ve watched this forever, but when he deemed Corey got enough, he loosened the chain enough to let the air rush into his burning lungs, his tongue licking along the red throat from above the chain to the tip of Corey’s chin then gently sucked the panting man’s bottom lip into his mouth with an approving growl. He slid backwards, his hand sliding off their cocks to rub along his lover’s balls and the top of his thigh. “Are you grateful yet? Do you want more?” he lightly tugged on the chain, nails digging into Corey’s freshly healed, but still sensitive thigh.

The sudden rush of oxygen pushed Corey's brain to blissful euphoria at the edge of being conscious from joy, and also caused to those whining sounds to escape his sore throat. 
“Please master... Give me more…” he breathed shivering constantly.

“So fucking needy… I like that… Always needing more… so much more,” Jim kissed along the other man’s jaw-line then slid lower to suck and bite a nipple, not moving the chain yet to torture Corey further. He kept that up for a good minute to hear more from those whimpering, needy sounds. Then as Corey took a breath, Jim suddenly tightened the chain while his lips were biting his nipple harder. Another round of counting followed that, keeping the chain tight a bit longer this time until Jim finally released it and while Corey was recovering, he reached for the bottle of lube he fetched beforehand.

Corey was basking in the numbing sensations that made him focus on nothing more than the striking pain rushing over and tensing his body while he cried out long and weak as his brain gave up again on functioning without air. He was rushed back into this earthly life by adrenaline to pull him back to joy and whining. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed.

Meanwhile Jim wet his fingers and after pushing Corey’s legs more open and up, he slid them to the tight opening, rubbing and teasing it the way he knew the singer liked. “You have no fucking idea how arousing you are right now… I’m gonna fuck you so good, pet… You’re gonna beg for mercy,” he murmured, not caring if Corey actually heard him. What mattered now was that Jim’s finger finally found its way up into that tight hotness and he couldn’t wait to bury himself into it.

Jim’s words reached his flooded mind briefly as his body jerked to move against the long fingers, only able to moan and whine like a needy puppy that he was turning into more and more.

From there Jim didn’t need to work that much on Corey’s body to open up for him. An occasional tug on the chain to cut off his breathing, another finger added and he was so fucking ready for him. Smearing the remaining lube and his own pre-cum on his long cock he positioned himself against the waiting hole and slid in with a loud groan, the chain loose in that moment so he could hear Corey. Then his hips snapped forward, pushing Corey’s legs further up with his own thighs, quickly picking up a fast rhythm to pound the singer’s shaking and shivering body.

Corey was pulling on the ropes holding his wrists as his back arched and lifted from the bed in the feeling as his body was split in half, followed by the hot rush of burning pleasure escalating higher and higher as he got completely lost in his mind, huffing and groaning like a dying animal, unable to follow any more commands, just aching for the end release.

As Jim was getting more and more into it, he practically bent Corey in half, who ended up with his legs on the guitarist’s shoulders, his hole being pounded as fast and hard as Jim dared to go as control started slipping him too. And all the while the end of the choking chain was in one of his hands (holding Corey in every meaning possible) and tugging and releasing it to add to his lover’s pleasure; and help him forget everything else.

“Come on, puppy… I know you want to… Cum for me!” he panted close to the singer’s half-open mouth, occasionally licking into it then he tightened the chain harder than before, making sure that Corey would have a nice vivid “necklace” of bruises the next day.

Between his panting and moans, Corey managed to hear his master's words and as the last longer and more hard choking has ended, his body’s last remaining control gave up and he came hard with a cramping body and dying howl, pulling his mate with him into the blinding oblivion.

Even as he started coming in the squirming and fucking hot body, Jim made sure to loosen the chain enough to let Corey get that precious oxygen that would send him even higher than the pot or the booze could. This was pure pleasure for both of them and the guitarist’s body was jerking just as much as his lover’s while they were riding out their overwhelming orgasm until they ended up as panting sweaty messes, bodies entangled so tight that neither of them knew where they started or ended. It was fucking perfection.

Coming down from their orgasmic high, the singer's body also stared to feel. “Jimmy… I can't feel my shoulder,” Corey whispered panting, even laughing on the fact, a little still with a spinning head while nuzzling his face to his mate's head resting on his shoulder.

“Yeah… yeah, sorry,” Jim chuckled hoarsely a bit too. He was still kinda out of it as he slid out of Corey slowly then moved to let the tied out hands free. Once he did, the long-haired man started massaging the numb arms and shoulders one by one to restore their circulation. “You were out of this world,” he murmured low and pressed a sensual kiss against the other’s lips, putting all his deep emotions into it. “Love you,” he said barely audible, looking into Corey’s eyes. Jim didn’t know what he’d do without the short man anymore.

“You made me get out of this world,” Corey hissed at the feel of millions of pins running up and down in his arms as the blood started to flow again in his limbs. He returned the passionate kiss, hugging Jim close to his body. “I love you too, Jimmy,” he said smiling into the hazel eyes. He has to make Jim happy.

***

The rest was over. Jim was true to his promise, though. The singer needed to rest for the two days to be able to walk normal again. The meeting with the others was lighter with the comments like "Here we go again..." from Clown and the other joking comments bantered out for Corey's pretty new necklace. And there was Sid and his killing stare. Oh well. Can't please them all...

These two days definitely helped to lift Jim's mood a bit, too. Focusing on Corey's needs and getting wasted with him felt good. First he was a bit worried about how vivid the new necklace became but then seeing how proudly Corey was wearing it – and pressing it time after time when he thought Jim wasn't looking – the guitarist relaxed.

He didn't even care just chuckled a bit as he exchanged a meaningful look with the singer while the guys were joking about it. Except for Sid. If stares could kill, Jim would've dropped dead a few times from the looks he got from the kid, but he wasn't going to be the one to go to him. After all, Sid was the asshole in this. Now he had other things to focus on. Like Corey and surviving the tour.

The shows continued and so did the drinking of the singer. His stage personality slowly but surely crept under his skin once again, like always when his mental balance got out of hand. But this time he was scared that he would do something considering Jim, and that he might hurt his mate with it. Good thing that the spirit of Paul was there more and more to talk these over with. He wasn't losing his mind again... He he’s been just having a rough time. That's all... He needed more to feel. More rough sex. More pain. More blood. More drinks. That's all…

Things were getting out of hand for the guitarist too. And it wasn’t just because he found an old friend again that came in powdered form. He tried to resist its calls, he really did. But as things were progressing – once up and once down, like it always did with the touring and emotional rollercoaster they were – it became harder and harder and Jim found himself drinking and smoking pot (or snorting coke) more and more too. Corey was lost in his own world, pulling away, which made Jim feel rejected and not enough, no matter how hard he was trying to get through to him. The sex was harder and bloodier than ever as the guitarist was trying to please his mate as much as possible (and trying not to freak out), but Corey kept him out and disappeared into the night on his own more and more. That left Jim helpless and fucked up.

He tried to spend more time with Shawn, Mick or Chris or someone from the band (except for Sid, of course as they were still in beef and not talking), but his introvert self got stronger as they were rocking the stage nearly each night. He felt like he was taking apart Corey’s stage persona instead of Corey himself and that left him with a throbbing hollowness, although he knew it was a vital part of the singer too. Every time he tried to address this problem, something came up or the singer waved it off. It left Jim like suffocating and turn into himself some more. In most of his free time he was cooped up in a corner playing his guitar or getting shitfaced. Or both, while pretending to be okay when he was so fucking far from that.

The singer went out to drink to stir up shit. Like mostly every evening for a while now. Not that Jim wouldn't get shitfaced on his own either. He should take care of his mate... But he had to stop the voices and feeling inside his head. Paul was with him now, he could feel it almost constantly and he felt horribly guilty.

And as he got closer to their hotel room, for Jim too. Fuck. The voices in his brain kept telling him how worthless he was so there was no use to even try. He is a cheater too… He is unfaithful to Paul and Jim and was a selfish fucktard.

Rubbing his face he walked into the room calling for his mate.

Jim was sitting on the couch with a guitar on his lap, a few pot stubs already sticking out from the ashtray and that certain smell lingering in the room. He was too fucked up to communicate on the phone so he’s been chatting with Cristina through Facebook until she had to go to sleep or something. He was talking with her more often nowadays. She was one of the rare constant things in his life and when the ground was slipping from under his feet, Jim usually turned towards her at some point.

He had no illusions about Cristina not sensing that he was getting shitfaced more often nowadays, but bless her heart, she didn’t call him on it. She understood. That was one of the reasons why Jim loved their talks.

Since they said goodbye, Jim has been playing the guitar while smoking pot and drinking, trying to wait up for Corey. His fingers were aching and getting sore and sensitive from all the playing, but he didn’t care either that he’d cut a couple of fingers in his drunken stupor. He didn’t care about much besides wallowing in self-pity and missing Corey. So pathetic… He knew fucking well. But as if in a trance and not giving a shit about the neighbors, he kept strumming his guitar, making it cry instead of him.

“Jim? Jimmy??” Corey called his mate kneeling before him and stopping his hand on the guitar. Fuck. He should just vanish from the face of the earth for not being here for this man.

"You're back," Jim smiled at Corey, his hands shaking and fingers twitching under Corey's palm. "Where have you been? I thought I'd wait up for you... so we can go to sleep together," he slurred as if everything was okay. "I'm fine. Just tired. Wanna cuddle with me? I'm thirsty. Wanna drink something?" he looked around as if searching for something to offer Corey.

“I'm good, love. I'm good. Come to bed with me?” Corey squeezed the shaking hand of the other man. Jim was fucking high as a kite and falling apart. And it was all his fault. “Come on, baby. We both drank enough. Let's rest now.”

"Rest sounds... good..." he weakly squeezed Corey's hand back, ignoring the pain from his fingers or the fact that he just smeared some half-dried blood on it. All that mattered was that Corey came back. He came back to him for some reason. Jim had no idea why would he want to come back to such a mess as he's been lately. "I’d bleed for you..." he grumbled then giggled as he let Corey help him up to stumble to the bed. "Fuck, I think I already do… I love you... Stay with me..." he said incoherently and barely audible as his back hit the bed and he was fighting to stay awake.

“I would never leave you,” Corey said and meant every word as his heart twisted heavily in his chest. He lifted the bruised hand to his lips and started to lick the blood off of it slowly. “I love you too, Jimmy.” Please don't kill yourself too because I am shit, he added in his thoughts.

"Good... good... thank you," Jim mumbled, forcing his red and hazy eyes to focus on the man he loved so fucking much. It was hurting, but it was worth it. It'd always be worth it. "You're worth it, Cor..." he voiced his thoughts as Corey was licking his blood off then his eyelids slid shut and he drifted away into a restless sleep.

"No I'm not. I'm not worth this at all," Corey thought kissing now the hand of his mate as his tears rolled down on  his face. He was drunk also and that fact didn't help on his emotions eating him up. He looked away and saw Paul sitting on the couch where Jim was a few minutes ago and playing on the guitar. No. Jim can't fade away because of him too. He wasn't there to protect Paul. And now he was messing up Jim. He really is the one who should have died.

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