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| The Kings of the Underdogs; Dave/Jason, slash, smut, sex, language, not suitable for children ;) after Fillmore | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: January 15, 2013, 8:22 pm (367 Views) | |
| kirkhammettismyman | January 15, 2013, 8:22 pm Post #1 |
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I was just a name in your little black book.
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Disclaimer - this is a weird pairing I will admit but I like it. Yes there will be a sex scene so if you don't want to read about Jason and Dave "together" then this isn't the fic for you. However, if slash is your scene then read on, comment, message me, send your suggestions, enjoy. It will get filthy. CHAPTER 1 He hid in a booth in the darkest corner of the bar. He cradled a beer, the only light came faintly from his mobile phone as he quickly shot off a text to his wife. She had already headed back home, she was done for the night. Jason on the other hand was not done. He didn't know what he was. Nostalgic perhaps, being up on stage with those guys had really brought back a lot of memories. Frustrated, absolutely frustrated, but he wasn't quite sure why. He was conflicted. Confused. He didn't want to be with people but he wasn't quite ready to go home yet. Not just yet. Deep in thought he didn't even notice the red head slip into the seat in front of him. He seemed nervous, he kept looking behind and around the booth. He stopped looking, turned to face Jason and relaxed into the seat. Jason looked up from his phone and for a moment was a bit taken back. There was Dave Mustaine. Okay so they'd just shared a stage together, but there he was. Then he took a small hip flask from his pocket and took a swig, and Jason was even more surprised. Dave noticed the look and smiled. He hovered the flask over Jason's beer and Jason gently shook his head no, Dave shrugged and pocketed the booze. "Good show yeah?" Dave said, he seemed kind of nervous and jittery. "Yeah, it was pretty cool," Jason replied. "But, a bit weird yeah?" Dave continued. "Yeah, a bit weird," Jason agreed. "Like it was cool, but now everyone asks you questions like-" "Do you regret leaving Metallica." "Are you still angry at Kirk for replacing you." "Would you go back if they asked you?" "Are you still bitter about Megadeth being the two to their one." "Yeah a little weird," Jason said with a knowing smile. "Totally weird," Dave replied. He took the hip flash from his pocket again and took another swig, again he offered it in Jason's direction and again he declined. "How about some real drinks then?" Dave suggested. "Alright then, your shout, you have more money than me Mr Megadeth," Jason joked, warming to the guitarist. "What are you talking about more money, you were Mr Metallica for what 15 years?" Dave shot back with a grin. "Yeah 15 years and 3 writing credits, you have more writing credits on Metallica albums then I do," Jason said, he sounded a little bitter. Christ he was a little bitter. As much of the good stuff the Fillmore had brought up, it really had brought the bad up with it. Dave signalled to hold on just a minute and disappeared to the bar and came back with two beers. "I don't know what you like so I just got whatever they had on tap," Dave said, again he seemed nervous and jittery. "Thanks, are you okay?" "Yeah, I just don't want to be seen, you know, off the wagon," Dave said. Jason leaned out from the booth. "There's no one here, in fact we're pretty much the only ones here," Jason reassured him and instantly Dave seemed more relaxed. They got to chatting, about life, love, work. They joked about their shortcomings and danced around the big white elephant in the room, Metallica. "Echobrain was pretty cool man," Dave mused, "like it's not thrash but I like the bluesy feel it had. Good stuff." Jason grinned sheepishly. It was pretty good stuff. Dave noted the ring on Jason's finger and they skimmed over the topic of marriage. Kids? No not for Jason apparently. Dave had two and his face lit up when he talked about them. They talked about Jason's art and then he showed him some stuff on his phone. It was good. It was very good. Jason had a real talent. They talked about upcoming projects and Jason, after a few drinks, felt he was in safe enough company to divulge his own plans for the future. "Your round," Dave instructed and Jason gave him a half heartedly salute before making his way to the bar. He stumbled and swayed with each step, and yet the bar tender still served him. "What is it?" Dave questioned staring at the black liquid in front of him. "Scotch and coke," Jason replied quite pleased with himself. "Well, well," Dave said with a grin, "the boy orders a man's drink." He winked and drank, the conversation rolling on to more important topics like groupies. Who had done who to what and when. Dave listened intently as Jason recalled the dirty details of the Black Album tour. The girls, the drink, the things girls would do just to get backstage - and then the things they would do once they got to meet the boys. Each detail more filthy than the last. Each detail leaving Dave wanting to hear more. They drank, for the good times, the bad times, the frustrations and the triumphs, they drank to the past, present and future. They drank for each other and they drank for themselves. "To the Rejects of Metallica!" Jason declared loudly. More and more, Jason was feeling as though he had found a kindred spirit in Dave. Someone who actually understood what it meant to be on the other side. Someone who listened to his frustrations without a hint of judgement. Someone who had been there, done that, and knew what to say and when to shut up. He seemed genuinely interested in what he had done since, and without then asking "so how do you think James/Lars/Kirk feel about that?" Because it seemed that he didn't care how they felt about anything. Contrary to what Jason had been told about Dave it seemed like he really didn't care about his Metallica past anymore, he just didn't want to talk about it either. It was getting late, or rather it was coming into the early hours of the morning, and finally the bar tender called last drinks. Dave picked up a take away bottle of some sort of bourbon and tipped the bar tender handsomely. Jason did the same. It would seem that this was going to be the end of the night. They stood out on the street, and Dave borrowed Jason's phone to call a cab. "Where are you headed?" he asked as they waited. "Home I guess, it's pretty late though, I don't really want to wake up the wife," he said checking the time on his phone. "Come back to my hotel, we'll keep drinking, I'll stuff you in a cab tomorrow morning." Jason shrugged and it was settled, he'd keep on keeping on with Mr Megadeth. |
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| !JaceyNewkid! | January 15, 2013, 10:02 pm Post #2 |
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Outlaw Torn
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Yeh Amanda! love this so far! 'The Rejects of Metallica' this story is sounding interesting and I'm in love with it already. There's still some of your infamous angst in there but the cuteness was just overpowering. Can't wait to read more!Oh and love the title. Newsted's EP is some awesome shit!!
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| NothingElseMatters | January 19, 2013, 6:29 pm Post #3 |
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Destination: Koolzville
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Yes. YES. Hahaha "The Rejects of Metallica"... Can't wait to see where this goes!!!
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| Achernar | January 20, 2013, 5:01 am Post #4 |
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I want my dragon back :c
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Dave + Bassist = so awesum. |
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| kirkhammettismyman | January 30, 2013, 6:51 pm Post #5 |
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I was just a name in your little black book.
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CHAPTER 2 They stood on the street corner waiting for their cab. It was cold and Jason leant against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He looked over at Dave kicking a fast food wrapper around on the curb and instantly felt very small in his presence. James and Lars had told him a lot about Dave, he was crazy, out of control, pretty much impossible to get along with; they had said. He just speaks, he never thinks, there's no filter between his brain and his mouth; they had said. Waste of space, waste of time, he was a waste; they'd said. Don't bother with him. But James hadn't really known Dave sober. Dave hadn't really known James sober either for that matter. Their opinions of each other had been distorted somewhat. And by the time they were both sober, well Jason had split. He didn't ring James up for a chat, he certainly didn't talk to James about Dave. Truth was he hadn't had an opinion on him because well Dave had never really been a part of his life. They ran in different circles with different people doing different things. Sure in the beginning he'd asked about him and what had happened. No one knew the full truth about what had really happened. There was Dave's side, Metallica's side, and the truth. But Dave had told his side so many times that it had become his truth, and James and Lars had told their side so many times it had become their truth. Kirk, he had no opinion on it really. He had no part in it. He didn't like talking about it, none of them had liked talking about it. Dave had become almost like a mythical being in the birth story of their band. This awesome talented guitarist who had a hand in forging what was the trademark Metallica sound but who also couldn't handle his vices and in a huge fall from grace ended up broken, alone, out of the band. Epic. Jason had learnt pretty early on not to talk about it. It's funny how someone's words can alter your perception of them. Jason had always imagined that Dave would be this short, angry little guy with so much to say that his mouth ran so fast his brain couldn't keep up. Instead there was this tall, quiet, thoughtful person, even after a few drinks he seemed totally in control. It was a far cry from the picture his former band mates had put in his head. Dave continued to kick the wrapper along the curb and Jason stood up straight. He was not wanting to spend the whole evening deep in thought about who said what about who. He didn't want to care about James or Lars' opinions, but 15 years is a long time to spend with anyone without taking in at least some of what they had said. How much was truth? How much was a total fabrication? Who cared, what Jason did know was that some things had changed but some things hadn't. He knew that James was a changed man, he seemed more gracious and he certainly was easier to be around. He was genuine, he was open to a friendship between them, he was different, he was better. Kirk was the same as always, but truth had been he had never had a problem with Kirk. In some ways they had gone through some of the same stuff. The hazing. Difference was that Kirk was willing to put up with it, he was comfortable with his place in the band, Jason was not. He couldn't be mad at Kirk, never had been, they'd just been on separate paths, separate journeys. They'd remained friends, they'd still be in constant and consistent contact. Kirk had even played on an Echobrain album. And then there was Lars. He hadn't changed. Lars could grate on you. Jason knew that Lars would have felt as if they had done Dave and Jason a favour. He'd probably say it too. Lars was harsh, it was his way, and if anyone spoke their mind without a filter it was him. People dismissed it as being because he's European. It's his upbringing. They're more open and honest in Europe. And sure, sometimes that was probably true. Other times he said cruel and unnecessary things under the guise of "speaking the truth" or "saying what everyone else is thinking." Lars had great influence over almost everyone who knew him. That little guy certainly could throw his weight around with his words. People just went along with what he said without questioning it. He was a good guy, deep down, but he was difficult. Jason looked up and saw that Dave was staring at him. He was instantly shaken and averted his eyes. "You alright man?" Dave asked. "Yeah, sorry," Jason muttered. "You just haven't said anything in a while, hope you aren't letting those guys get to you." Suddenly it felt like Dave could read him like an open book. Jason hated that feeling. He wasn't open with anyone like that. Least of all someone he barely knew. Jason went to speak but the cab came rolling around the corner. He pushed himself off from the wall and walked towards the curb. Hands in pockets. Dave cupped his own hands and attempted to warm them with his own breath before rubbing them together. "Fuck it's cold," he muttered and Jason nodded agreeing. The cab pulled up and they both climbed in the back. Dave gave the driver the address and then they both sat back as the driver attempted to make small talk, the weather, asking if they'd had a good night. "Lots of people coming from the Fillmore tonight, must have been a big thing there," he said. "Oh yeah? We've just had a pretty quiet one," Dave said, elbowing Jason in the ribs while the bassist tried to hold his laughter in. "Must be some music thing," the driver continued. "Probably," Jason said. "Some band, Metallica, metal-something, I don't know, heard of them?" "Nah, never heard of them," Dave said with a grin. "Yeah, me neither, must not be that big," Jason added. |
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love this so far! 'The Rejects of Metallica'
this story is sounding interesting and I'm in love with it already. There's still some of your infamous angst in there but the cuteness was just overpowering. Can't wait to read more!
Can't wait to see where this goes!!!


8:47 PM Jul 10