Tim walked up to the door, tugging on the sleeve of his leather jacket - an old nervous habit that never quite faded. He didn't quite know why he got nervous, but every time he did. Taking a breath, he raised his fist and knocked on the door lightly.

"Hey," Lars stated, leaning on a bat. Tim paused for a second to take in all his tattooed, mohawked glory and tried to force himself to respond, but failed. So Lars continued. "Business or pleasure?"

A smirk crossed his lips as he spoke the words and Tim felt himself melting inside. Somehow remaining calm, he returned the smirk flawlessly. "Would it really be considered pleasure?," he asked in a joking sort of tone. Lars laughed shortly, shifting the bat into his right hand and swinging the door open more, silently inviting his friend inside. Tim walked in.

"Well, you certainly seem to enjoy it," he replied once the door was closed. That smirk still in place, mischevious glint in his dark eyes...Tim had to look away. He turned his head and silently took in the apartment. Nothing spectacular, but it screamed 'Lars' from the framed, autographed Social Distortion poster to the cigarette slowly smouldering in the ashtray on the coffee table.

"Sit down," Lars suggested, and Tim moved to the couch and sat down. Lars paced across the room, pulling the bat behind his shoulders and stretching, causing the well-toned muscles of his arms and chest to flex and unflex. Tim watched helplessly, because he always was helpless when it came to Lars, and he wondered for a second if he was doing this just to torture him. Probably.

"See something you like?," Lars teased, sitting down next to Tim. He licked his lips and grinned as a response, evoking another laugh from the other man. He leaned the bat against the side of the table and picked up the almost dead cigarette, taking a drag. Taking his time. Looking over at Tim now, some sort of concern showed in his dark eyes.

"What?," Tim asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"You sure this is okay?," he questioned, concern showing in his tone as well now.

Tim shrugged. "It always has been before, why wouldn't it be now?" 'Jesus Tap-dancing Christ, Lars, don't tell me you want to stop now. Not when I need this,' he thought.

"Well, just, we got a show tonight. I want you to be able to perform," he explained, and Tim let out a breath he'd not been aware of holding.

"Oh...well then, take it easy," he suggested. Lars grinned maliciously and Tim added "Not too easy, of course."

He took a final drag off of the cigarette then put it out in the ashtray. Standing up, he extended a hand to Tim and he took it without hesitation. Using his already unbalanced state as leverage, he spun Tim around and into the wall and was on him in seconds, holding him there.

Tim groaned as a response to the initial pain but didn't have much of a chance to respond beyond that. Lars pressed his lips over Tim's, his tongue invading the other guitarist's mouth almost violently. Whatever groan he had been uttering turned to a moan as he pressed himself against Tim and pulled his hands up by the wrists sharply, pinning him against the wall. Lars broke the kiss and pulled back, still holding Tim by the wrists and dragging him out of the main room.

"Holy fuck, Lars, get right to the point," Tim exclaimed, although breathless.

"You wanted small talk?," he asked rhetorically. They entered his bedroom and he through Tim harshly towards the bed, his back coming into painful contact with the wooden footboard. "Get up there and take your shirt off," Lars commanded gruffly. Tim obeyed without question.

He joined him seconds later, pulling his arms behind his back roughly. Tim felt him clicking handcuffs into place around his wrists and bit back a moan as the cold metal bit into his skin. Wrapping an arm around him, Lars pulled Tim back into his chest. He pulled a thick strip of black cloth over him eyes and him vision was completely cut off as he felt Lars tie the blindfold behind his head.

Once the blindfold was in place, Lars' hands moved back to Tim's chest. They slid downwards slowly and he felt his breath on his shoulder seconds before his teeth grazed the skin, then bit in. The pain made Tim gasp aloud and he released the pressure of the bite, hands still moving across his stomach. They reached the waistband of Tim's boxers and Lars deftly slid his fingertips under the material, massaging the soft skin over Tim's hipbones. Tim sighed, leaned back against Lars and dropping his head back onto the other man's shoulder, enjoying the gentle touch while it lasted. He knew that wouldn't be long.

Lars pulled his mouth away from Tim's neck, removing his hands at the same time. For a moment Tim had no perception of Lars through the blindfold. Then he felt his hands on his shoulders, Lars roughly pushed him forward onto the bed so that he was laying on his stomach, hands bound behind his back. Tim braced himself, knowing what was coming. A sharp cracking noise resounded through the room as leather met his back, and Tim winced slightly although he had tried to prepare himself. Lars drug the crop down Tim's still stinging skin where a welt had begun to form, moving to kneel next to him. He continued to teasingly drag the leather across his back until he saw Tim relax, then lifted it and once again flogged him harshly.

With each snap, Tim's back arched. The welts on his back broke open slowly, tinging the black sheets on Lars' bed a shade darker as blood trickled off of his back. The pain was delicious, and before long a moan accompanied each snap as well. Lars knew that Tim was getting off on this. Soon the moans were replaced by explitives, and Lars let the whip connect with Tim's back one last time before tossing it aside carelessly.

Leaning down, he braced himself with a hand on either side of Tim and slowly drug his tongue up the other man's back, licking up small trails of blood. He rested his chin on Tim's shoulder and listened to his labored breathing for a moment. "Not yet," he told him in a quiet but domineering voice. Tim nodded mutely, blindly, and Lars moved off of him and flipped Tim over. He pulled the other man up roughly and Tim quickly moved to his knees. This had almost become a routine, although not an unpleasant one in any way.

Lars pulled his own shirt over his head and quickly discarded it, then grasped Tim's shoulders again and leaned in, roughly kissing him. Tim responded as much as one who is bound and blindfolded could, dancing his tongue heatedly in Lars' mouth. They broke apart and Lars unzipped his pants, pulling them off along with his boxers. Kissing Tim again briefly, he directed his head downwards.

Tim leaned down between Lars' legs. His tongue traced a slow circle around Lars' swollen cock, over the inside of his thighs and the lowest part of his abdomen. Lars growled impatiently but didn't make any move to force Tim to go any faster as his mouth slid towards it's destination. Only when he flicked the tip of his tongue over the head did Lars put any pressure on Tim's shoulders. Tim took the hint and soon Lars' cock was engulfed in the warm wetness of his mouth, and Lars was moaning loudly. Tim pulled his head back and then plunged back down, a rhythm steadily increasing in speed.

"Oh, christ...holy fuck...Tim," Lars' speech came out brokenly as he tilted his head back. Tim pulled away just as Lars began to shiver, dragging his tongue across the underside Lars' cock before sucking on the head. Lars hissed, biting his tongue as he came into Tim's mouth. Tim slid his mouth down a bit and sucked back the cum that flowed into his mouth. He heard Lars chuckle breathlessly. "Take it, bitch, take it all," he said teasingly, and Tim had to fight hard not to laugh and inadvertantly choke himself.

Tim sat back up blindly, and Lars pulled him close. He kissed him hard, tongue invading Tim's mouth harshly. Tasting himself in Tim, he moaned again. Reaching around Tim's head, Lars pulled the blindfold off and they broke apart. Tim's blue eyes opened and he looked at Lars, aroused and amused.

"You know, I'm no good to you if you make me laugh and I choke on semen," Tim pointed out. Lars laughed and pushed Tim onto his back, stradling the thinner man.

"Dead bodies never sounded so appealing," Lars commented, then dipped his head down to drag his teeth across one of Tim's nipples slowly. He ground his hips against Tim's at the same time, eliciting a moan. Tim was, by this time, almost painfully hard and Lars' teasing was doing nothing to help his state. Apparently, Lars didn't care.

Lars slid down Tim's body slowly, tracing a trail down his body with the tip of his tongue. When he got to his cock, however, he conciously avoided it. Tim writhed around underneath him.

"Laaars," he whined, or as much of a whine as his scratchy voice could produce. Lars laughed coldly, and the small exhalations whisped across Tim's cock and made him shiver. His voice dropped to a very quiet, pleading tone. "Please, Lars..." Lars moved further down Tim's body, his tongue dancing delicately over the skin of his thigh, before he bit severely into the muscle. He growled, pleased, as Tim almost leapt upwards, every muscle in his body tensing. "FUCKING HELL!," he exclaimed.

Lars pulled away from Tim's thigh, dragging his teeth slowly off of the skin. Tim inhaled sharply and squirmed around as Lars moved back over him. He distributed feathery kisses across Tim's collarbone, laying his body across the other man's and pressing against him. Tim moaned helplessly, pushing his pelvis upwards and uttering nonsensical pleas of desperation. Lars hand drifted across Tim's stomach and down, playing over his cock. Tim groaned softly. "Fuck...Lars...please..."

Lars kissed the side of Tim's neck, directly above the spider tattoo, and whispered in his ear. "Well, since you asked so very nicely." His hand moved over Tim's balls, applying light pressure before continuing back. He slid a finger inside Tim, the epitome of gentleness - for the time being. Tim gasped at the contact as Lars moved his hand, slipping out then re-entering with two fingers instead of one.

After loosening Tim up a bit, Lars sat up. He reached over to his bedside table and dug through the drawer, procuring a tube of lubrication. "Roll over," he commanded Tim, and Tim immediately complied. He lay flat on his stomach as Lars moved behind him, and a few seconds later he shivered pleasantly as the other guitarist's callused fingers spread the cool liquid around his opening.

Lars moved behind Tim, nudging his legs open with his knees. He grasped the handcuffs around his wrists and harshly pulled him into a half-kneeling, half-sitting position, then wrapped a tattooed arm around his stomach. Tim cried out some explitive as Lars roughly pushed into him, forcing Tim to fall forward and brace himself up on his hands. Lars sat up on his knees and pulled out of Tim very slowly, before pushing back in hard. He worked up a steady, teasing rhythm of moving in quickly then back out almost painstakingly slowly.

Tim felt himself on the verge of coming, but used every ounce of strength and willpower he had left to prevent it as he knew Lars would tease him relentlessly if he did, unfortunately not in a very enjoyable way. Lars seemed to be holding himself back as well just to torture Tim. Moaning as Lars slammed into him again, Tim bit his lip until he felt blood trickling down his chin.

"Lars...oh, god...," Tim moaned. Lars' breath was warm on the back of his neck as he laughed slightly.

"Impatient, aren't you?," he said softly, then rammed into him again, making Tim lurch forward. Tim whimpered in response. "You know I could stop now and leave you here, handcuffed like this, don't you?" Tim whimpered again. "And then, who knows, Matt or Brett could show up...or even Brody...find you nude on my bed, blindfolded, handcuffed, bleeding..." he trailed off, biting into Tim's shoulder as he came inside of him.

"That's why...I maintain...oh, shit -," Tim sputtered as Lars reached around him to stroke his cock softly, still chewing on his shoulder. "- constant vigilance! Ohhhh fuck, Lars." Tim collapsed onto the bed, Lars on top of him, both panting. After a moment Lars slid out of him, rolling over onto his back beside Tim. He looked over at the other man, still on his stomach, and Tim turned to face him.

"Constant vigilance, Tim?," Lars asked, his breathing still labored, quirking an eyebrow. Tim grinned widely.

"Don't worry about it. There are some of my hobbies that not even you should know about," he said secretively.

Lars looked at him curiously for a moment, then grinned widely. "I guess I'll just have to beat it out of you, then...," he said, suggestively. Tim tried to lift his head but it fell back to the matress shortly after.

"Show tonight," he murmured into the sheets. "I think you forgot about that whole 'going easy' thing, so probably...not a good idea." Lars smirked and sat up, releasing Tim's wrists from the handcuffs before collapsing back to the bed. He pulled the other man to his chest and softly sucked the blood off of his chin. Tim's eyelids fluttered shut and he rested his head on Lars' shoulder.

"Not completely," Lars said a moment later in reply. "I can be more gentle tonight, if you want." Tim smiled at the idea of staying with Lars after the show. Suddenly his eyes sprang open and he sat up.

"Lars, the show! What time is it?," he asked almost frantically. Lars sat up as well, flipping his alarm clock around to view the face.

"Fuck, it's already six," he answered, looking back at Tim.

"Shit, we better get going," Tim said, sliding off the bed to look for his clothes. Lars watched him for a moment, enjoying the opportunity to watch the naked Armstrong scampering around his bedroom, blood drying on his back. Tim turned to look at him. "Well? Aren't you gunna get ready?," Tim asked as he buckled his belt.

Lars shrugged. "No hurry. We could always apparate." Tim looked at him for a moment in disbelief before grinning widely and shaking his head.