Current mood:	creative
Current music:	Victim-Eighteen Visions

Title: Hell In A Handbasket
Author: Hybryd
Fandom: A7X/Slipknot...with some Linkin Park
Pairing: Zacky/Syn, Zacky/Syn/Chris
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Mick and Chris's friendship has been falling a part for years, causing tension within the band, and events on the new tour aren't helping things



#0 Sid Wilson-DJ
#1 Joey Jordison-Drummer
#2 Paul Gray-Bassist
#3 Chris Fehn-Percussionist
#4 James (Jim) Root-Rhythm guitarist
#5 Craig Jones-Sampler
#6 Shawn Crahan-Percussionist
#7 Mick Thomson-Lead guitarist
#8 Corey Taylor-Singer

I was going to find unmasked pictures for those who don't know what they look like...but couldn't find any satisfactory ones.


Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen


It's been a few weeks since Chris was ambushed by Mick in the hall and he hasn't seen Syn or Zacky in more than just fleeting glances. Or that one time he actually went to watch them again, but was glared away by Shadows. Chris hasn't gone back to watch them since then.

Sid and Jim are trying to get him to cheer up, but Chris just isn't in the mood to be cheered up by anyone. Sure, he knows in his heart that what he had going with Syn and Zacky was only fooling around and that it would never be anything more than a few fucks, but it's made him realize just how alone he is. And he is very alone, despite having eight bandmates.

It's also making him come to terms with something he's yet to face since it first reared its ugly head. His feelings for Sid. He's tried to ignore them and shove them away, but seeing Syn and Zacky so happy together has made him wish he could find someone to have that with. And the someone he wants that with is so frustratingly straight that he just wants to beat himself over the head with a big stick for ever getting those feelings for the younger man.

Sid will never look at him as anything but a friend. And that hurts.

A lot.

Chris is smart enough to know that he has no chance there. That saying anything would just be more pain for himself, so he's never even thought of revealing his feelings to his friend. Because, well, Sid has been so supportive of him so far that Chris is terrified of losing that. Not to mention having a gay best friend is a lot different than having a gay best friend who wants to fuck you and Chris isn't so sure Sid would be so accepting of that.

The worst thing is that Mick, dumb-as-a-box-of-rocks Mick, knows about it. How Mick figured it out is beyond Chris, because he's sure he's been pretty subtle about the whole loving his best friend thing. Apparently not subtle enough though, because the guitarist has been using it against him for a long while.

And now that he doesn't have Syn and Zacky to take his mind off of it, it's eating him up inside. The loneliness, the need, the want so deep he can barely stand it. It's all bearing down on him now, especially with the way Sid has been trying to take care of him like he needs someone to put him back together after a brawl with Mick.

Except getting his ass handed to him wasn't exactly a brawl. And there's no doubt that Mick handed him his ass on a silver platter in that fight. Chris is actually pretty sure he didn't even land one hit that time, which is kind of embarrassing truth be told. Of course, he was horribly drunk when Mick ambushed him, so he has that excuse to use.

And he's so fucking pissed that Mick even dared to hit guys from another band. Shawn had to practically threaten to kick Chris out of the band to keep him from going after Mick. He still wishes he could beat the guitarist's head in with a lead pipe. He'd feel better.

But that wouldn't take away the loneliness he feels.

Chris is making his way slowly down a hall in the backstage area. The building is big enough to get lost in, which wasn't his intention when his walk started, but he's been caught up in his misery and hasn't exactly been keeping track of how many turns he's taken. In fact, he doesn't even notice anything around him until a hand grabs his and he's jerked to the side. For a moment he's got a feeling of deja vu from Mick grabbing him. However, before he starts throwing punches he realizes the hand that just grabbed him is smaller than his own and the body that suddenly presses against him is also smaller.

“What-?” Chris starts to ask, but he's silenced by a deep kiss. And he feels familiar twin piercings, warm and comforting against his lips.

At least he knows who just jumped him. His tense muscles relax immediately and he kisses Zacky back, tongues tangling and stroking and a mock battle for dominance. They don't break the kiss until Chris starts feeling a little light headed from lack of oxygen. Zacky licks and nips down his jaw to his neck, breath hot and moist against his skin as the guitarist speaks for the first time.

“Syn and I have been talking about you, Chris.”

Chris tilts his head back and to the side to give Zacky more flesh to attack. “I would ask if that's good or bad, but I'm thinking this should be a clue.”

“We want you to know that anytime you need anything, a shoulder to cry on or a bed to sleep in, you can come to us,” Zacky continues as if Chris never spoke, “me or him or both of us.”

This brings Chris out of the little cloud of lust and pleasure that had started to descend on him. He lifts his hands and pushes Zacky back enough to look into the younger man's green eyes. They stare back at him, warm and understanding.

“Is that like...how does that work? Won't that effect your relationship? I mean...what does that make me to you?”

“It works like it's been working, only you don't have to wait for us to come to you. There's very little that can affect our relationship and this is something we both agree on. Friend with benefits, lover, whatever you want to call it Chris,” Zacky answers each question, amused yet serious. “I won't say we're in love with you, but we've come to care about you and want you to be happy. And your bandmates said you've been happy since we started sleeping together.”

“That's...are you...really? I mean, aren't you scared of Mick?”

“Scared for you maybe, but I'm not afraid to stand up to that fucker even if he beats the shit out of me,” Zacky replies. “You being happy is more important.”

Chris feels a swell of affection for the young guitarist in front of him and decides to show it the best way he knows how. He grabs Zacky by the back of the neck and pulls the younger man into another deep, passionate kiss. This time he puts all his gratitude and appreciation into it, dominating the kiss with his emotions.

Chris is slightly surprised to feel Zacky's hands under his shirt, stroking his skin. He shivers and lets the smaller man push him back against the wall, sucking on one piercing as he does. He moans softly as Zacky thumbs his nipples, jolts of pleasure shooting straight down to his quickly growing erection. His moan breaks off into a gasp as the younger man grinds their hard-ons together. Zacky breaks the kiss to push Chris's shirt off and throws it somewhere to the side.

Things progress quickly from there. Within minutes both their pants are pooled on the floor. Chris has maneuvered them so that Zacky is face first against the wall and he's plastered to the guitarist's back. It's lucky that Zacky came prepared, because Chris doesn't generally run around with lube or condoms in his pocket...well maybe condoms, but he's out of the little packets of lube.

“Do you always have lube and condoms in your pockets,” Chris asks as he licks and nips at the Angel's tattoo on Zacky's neck.

Zacky's responds with a half laugh-half moan, “I'm a horny guy.”

“So I've noticed,” Chris returns as he gently begins to work one lubed finger into the man he could now call his lover.

“You're no better,” Zacky accuses although there's no real heat in his voice.

Chris doesn't even try to deny it. He just continues with what he's doing, getting harder at the feeling of Zacky's tightness around his fingers. He knows it's going to feel fucking amazing. He leans forward and licks a hot strip up Zacky's back, getting a tongue full of the sweat that's broken out over the guitarist's body.

Pulling his fingers free Chris is just positioning himself at Zacky's entrance when the door into the room bangs open. Chris swears and drops down to get Zacky's pants back up, because he's not so ashamed of being seen naked by anyone but he knows Zacky doesn't like it. As Zacky is getting his pants redone, Chris is yanked backwards. Because his feet are still tangled in his pants, Chris ends up falling.

“I can't fucking believe you!”

Chris groans in pure annoyance. Why? Why out of everyone that could have caught them did it have to be Mick?

He struggles to get his pants up his legs and then Zacky is there putting himself between Mick and Chris. Chris wants to object, but he sees his bandmate hesitate and that gives him enough time to get himself decent again. He then pushes to his feet and faces the taller man with a challenging glare.

“Fuck off, Mick. After all the fights we've gotten into do you really think one more is going to change anything?” Chris snarls.

Mick growls, blue eyes narrowing to slits. “I keep thinking that one of these times I might beat some sense into you.”

“Funny, that's the same I think about you,” Chris retorts.

“Look man, if you start a fight here I'm gonna get involved and I think you remember what happened last time you touched me,” Zacky butts in.

Chris winces as the smaller guitarist gains the attention of the much bigger guitarist, but he sees that it is a look of contemplation on his bandmate's face. Mick is contemplating whether giving Chris another beating is worth getting one in return. After a moment, to Chris's utter shock, Mick backs down. But there's a look of malevolence still on the bigger man's face and pure hatred in his icy blue eyes.

“You've got a point, apparently different tactics are required,” Mick says coldly.

Chris watches as his bandmate turns and stalks back out of the room. He can't help but think that a beating may have been the better choice.