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Now That It's Over

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Summer, 2000

Jim was tired. He knew when he joined Slipknot that touring would be difficult, but this felt relentless. Sure, he was with his brothers, his best friends, but it was easy to get sick of eight other dudes pretty quickly. And he was thankful that he was getting to travel the world and see bits and pieces of other countries when they had the bare minimum amount of downtime, but god, he was so tired.

Jim dumped his bag on the floor, next to one of the beds. They’d scored a hotel room for tonight, which he was more than thankful for. Tour bus bunks weren’t the most comfortable at the best of times, let alone for someone of his stature. At least tonight he’d be able to get really comfortable and hopefully have a good sleep.

It came at a cost, though. He wouldn’t be getting the room to himself. He’d be sharing it with the frontman of both the bands he was in. Corey wasn’t bad company, really. Jim just hoped he’d settle the fuck down tonight. They all needed a break and some time to relax. Jim was sure Corey would respect that.

Corey was nowhere to be seen (or heard) but his bag was on top of the other bed in the room. Jim felt bad, but he was sort of thankful that he wasn’t here for now, even though he could bust through the door at any moment.

Jim sat down on his bed and allowed himself to fall back on top of the mattress. All he wanted was a nice, long shower, but the comfort of a real bed was enticing him closer to the brink of sleep. Jim closed his eyes. A nap wouldn’t hurt.

Jim’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Corey’s dumb laughter.

He raised his head and cautiously peered around the room. For Christ’s sake, he wasn’t even in here. The laughter was coming from the fucking corridor. Could he not shut up for five fucking minutes?

Jim emitted a grunt as he pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet, snatching the blanket along with him to pull it around his shoulders. He shuffled over to the door of the hotel room, but it slammed open before he could reach it. If he was even a few inches further, it would’ve smacked him right in the face. Jim glared at Corey when he strode into the room and slammed the door shut behind him, only giving a passing glance to the dent that was now in the wall.

”Oh, sorry, man,” Corey said as he brushed past Jim, laughter still bubbling out of him. “I didn’t realise you were getting some shut-eye.”

”It’s fine,” Jim sighed, turning to follow Corey further into the room. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, anyway.”

There was silence between the two as Corey dropped to sit on the edge of Jim’s bed. Jim cocked an eyebrow at him and Corey couldn’t contain his laughter once more.

”Dude, you fucking missed it! There was some chick at the bar, you should’ve seen Sid—” Corey fell back onto Jim’s bed and clutched at his stomach, interrupting himself with his laughter.

Jim honestly didn’t want to know, like at all, but he couldn’t help the grin that worked it’s way onto his face. Corey’s laugh was stupid, yes, but also infectious.

”Man, shut up, you’re such a fucking weirdo, you know?” Jim said, as he sat down next to the singer. Corey only rolled onto his stomach to smush his face against Jim’s knee.

”Ow.” He muttered, lifting his head and rubbing a hand against his forehead. His laughter soon subsided, but there was still the odd giggle coming from him.

”Aw, do I need to kiss it better?” Jim taunted. He reached out and smoothed his hand over Corey’s, where it was still rubbing over his forehead.

”And you said I’m a fucking weirdo?” Corey snorted, resting his chin on Jim’s leg as he grinned up at him.

Jim was thankful that he was paired up with good-mood-Corey this time, and not rage-at-everything-Corey. The latter was like hell on earth. Once his mouth started running when he was in a bad mood, it was hard to stop it. And if you tried, you would be his next target. Jim was used to it at this point, so he didn’t bat an eyelid. But it did make his life easier when Corey wasn’t like that.

”’Cos you are.” Came Jim’s reply. He didn’t think twice before pushing his fingers through Corey’s hair.

Neither of them thought about the affectionate gesture, at least at first. Corey fell into silence, with a dorky smile gracing his lips, and leaned into Jim’s touch. He allowed his eyes to fall shut as Jim continued to comb his fingers through the singer’s hair.

And then Corey's eyes snapped open and they were both giving each other a caught in the headlights, wide eyed kind of look, with Jim quickly snatching his hand back. Corey rolled onto his back once more as an awkward silence began to fill the void between them.

”Uh,” Jim coughed, his cheeks reddening as he tried to think of a way to play their little moment off. “You need to take a fucking shower. Your hair’s nasty.”

And for once, Corey Taylor did as he was told, springing off the bed and trudging towards their little bathroom, without another word between them.

Things changed for the two bandmates after that moment. In the weeks that followed, Jim didn’t fail to notice the way that Corey was softer with him. Not so boisterous, but still plenty in his face. It wasn’t enough for any of their other bandmates to pick up on — apart from maybe Craig, because he said fuck all but was always watching everything going on around him — but Jim noticed. At first he thought maybe he was going crazy, imagining things, or the stupid part of his brain may have even been hoping for something. Which he knew was wrong. He did not have a crush on Corey Taylor. Or whatever the fuck else was going on. They were all lonely and touring was long. That was all. It’s okay to enjoy another human’s presence or touch.

Although as much as Jim tried to fool himself, it wasn’t to be.

They had two weeks until the next tour would start. Four days into their break, Corey scared the shit out of Jim.

Jim had been in the shower, minding his own business and singing along to a radio station. Thankfully he’d decided to wrap a towel around his waist before leaving the bathroom, because when he strolled into his bedroom, Corey was just sat there, not unlike a serial killer.

”Holy fuck!” Jim cursed, his hand flying up to cover his heart. He jumped so hard from surprise that he nearly bashed his head off the top of the doorframe. “What are you doing?”

”You gave me a key. Years ago.” Corey looked unfazed, but Jim didn’t miss the way that Corey’s eyes skimmed over his body.

Jim paused and frowned to himself. Did he? Oh, yeah. In the Stone Sour days when they were inseparable, until—

Corey’s laughter brought Jim back to earth. Jim cocked an eyebrow at him.

”That’s not funny,” The guitarist sighed. “I thought you were a fucking murderer or stalker or something.” Jim strolled over to his chest of drawers, digging around in one of the top ones for some underwear. His shoulders stiffened as he heard Corey approaching from behind.

”Yeah, I’m a psycho fan, breaking into your house or whatever.” Corey laughed again. He managed to get a chuckle out of Jim this time, but Jim froze up again when he felt Corey’s head resting against the back of his shoulder. Was it hot in here?

Corey’s hands found Jim’s sides and he began to trail his fingertips up and down his ribs. Jim couldn’t even blink at this point, he just stared straight ahead at the wall, as if the paint would have any idea of what was happening.

Jim cleared his throat and turned around to face the younger man. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again.

The way Corey was staring up at him, with a playful glint in his eye, how his hands felt smoothing over Jim’s bare skin—

And then Corey leaned up and closed the gap between them.

Jim gasped into the kiss, but melted against Corey right away. Their kiss soon went from hesitant, unsure, to downright feverish. Jim grabbed onto Corey’s hips and dragged him in closer as their tongues met, pressing their bodies together as much as he could while never breaking the kiss.

Corey let out a little moan. Jim lost his mind right there. He would deal with the consequences later.

Jim began to maneuver Corey towards his bed, their lips still pressed together, tongues and teeth and all. It was messy, clumsy, but the two men couldn’t get enough of each other. Corey only pulled away when the backs of his knees hit Jim’s bed and he fell onto it, but not before he could grab a hold of Jim’s towel and pull him along with him.

Jim lost the towel before his knees even hit the mattress. And then as Corey pulled off his own shirt, he was crawling between the younger man's legs and shoving Corey back down against the bed again. This time, Jim attached his lips to the side of Corey’s neck, only being spurred on by the sound of Corey’s huffing and whining above him. He dug his teeth into Corey’s pale skin, where his neck met his shoulder, and Corey couldn’t help but moan and buck his hips up. Jim smirked to himself for a moment before lathing his tongue over the same spot, and then dragging his tongue up his neck to let a huff of air out against Corey’s ear.

Corey’s own hands were splayed over Jim’s back but were now travelling downwards to rid himself of his jeans. Jim lifted himself up for a moment and couldn’t help but find amusement in the way that Corey writhed and squirmed out of his blue jeans. Corey’s gaze shot up to Jim’s as soon as he heard the guitarist give a little chuckle. In no time at all, he was sitting up and toppling Jim over from on top of him, so he could have the upper hand.

Jim fell onto his back with a little ‘oof’, followed by a harsh little cry as Corey wrapped his fingers around Jim’s cock. Jim lolled his head backwards and bucked up into Corey’s hand, starting to thrust upwards with soft little moans and gasps as Corey began to twist and squeeze Jim’s cock with his hand. Soon they both found a rhythm and Jim began to rock his hips harder, faster, but it all came to a stop when Corey squeezed his fingers around the base of Jim’s cock and kept them there.

Jim lifted his head, frowning at Corey all while he tried to regain control over his breathing. Corey pulled away from him and Jim began to sit up. He stilled when Corey began to yank his own boxers down his thighs.

Corey discarded the fabric to the floor and then he was climbing into Jim’s lap. Jim wasted no time in catching Corey’s lips in a hungry kiss, unbothered about the way their noses uncomfortably pressed together at first. Corey wrapped his arms around Jim’s neck and kissed him back just as eagerly. The smaller man shifted himself forward in Jim’s lap until their cocks bumped against each other.

Jim pulled away from the kiss with a low hiss, pressing his forehead against Corey’s. He looked down when Corey’s fingers wrapped around his cock again and oh— Corey fit his own cock alongside Jim’s and began to jerk them off together.

Jim’s hips bucked up again with a low growl forming in the back of his throat. It was too hot, too heavy, too intimate, but fuck he loved it and wanted more.

Jim dropped his left hand to meet with Corey’s right, trapping their cocks between both of their hands. Their eyes met, and Jim wondered if he looked as fucking delirious as Corey did right now. Lord knows he felt it.

Corey’s thumb smoothed their precum around, together, and as they both picked up a rhythm, their hands and dicks only became slicker and they both began to moan, groan and whimper.

Corey was swearing under his breath while Jim was muttering about how good this felt. How good he felt, with him like this.

Corey was the first to break their rhythm as he began to jerk his hips against Jim. Jim continued to rock his hips steadily, although his pace was picking up as he began to chase his own high. Jim tightened his hand ever so slightly around Corey’s, and then Corey was chanting a chorus of Jim’s name with his moans increasing in volume. Corey’s head fell against Jim’s shoulder when he came, hot spurts of white falling over Jim’s hand and stomach.

Corey, although oversensitive now, didn’t pull away from Jim, but instead joined their fingers together and bit down on Jim’s shoulder. Jim let out a shout as his hips jolted upward, the head of his cock bumping against Corey’s as he fucked harder into his friend’s cum-slick grip, and then he swore he saw white.

Jim didn’t consider himself loud, but as he hit his orgasm and threw his head back, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He moaned incoherently and gasped out Corey’s name, spilling over both of their hands and his best friend’s cock. Corey pressed open mouthed kisses along Jim’s shoulder as the guitarist rode out his orgasm, squeezing every last drop out of him until he fell backwards.

Jim stared up at the ceiling, panting away as Corey finally pulled his hand away from his. Jim’s hand fell against his stomach, and he grimaced at the stickiness.

Corey leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around Jim’s wrist. Jim raised his head, still trying to catch his breath. His jaw fell open when Corey raised Jim’s hand to his mouth and he took two fingers into his own mouth. He hollowed out his cheeks, closed his eyes and hummed around Jim’s fingers as he swirled his tongue around them, the taste of both of them mixed together.

Jim definitely stopped breathing at that point.