Look What I've Got!

[swedish_rocker]

Smut prompt #53. "Is that a tattoo?."



Hans was busy practicing a few riffs alone privately in his hotel room when he heard the distinct screaming and yelling of his brother coming rushing down the corridor. Oh gods, what now? How much coke or booze had the trashy singer thrown down his throat this time? The guitarist choosing to try and block out the sounds of his brother on a bender outside his room now squealing with delight over something. Had the ginger spent another load of money on Bjorn? Spoiling him rotten and causing the singer to explode with high energy? Who knew. That or he was just having a high episode. Back to his guitar and Hans sighed, ignoring the madness as his fingers ran over the strings, happy he found a new riff he'd been working on.

Then the door got smashed open; the handle hitting the wall as Bjorn came barrelling in holding his arm, which was wrapped up in clear plastic. Hans' head snapped up with annoyance as he stood up and unhooked his guitar about to yell at his brother for bursting in.

"Look what I got! Oh my fucking god! It's so perfect--look!"

Shoving his arm in front of Hans' face Bjorn began giggling like a giddy school girl, unable to keep his emotion in check. Since when had Bjorn ever been able to do that? Squinting at his younger brother's arm, Hans noticed something. A dark patch under the clear shiny film on Bjorn's forearm.

"Is that---is that a tattoo? You've got a tattoo."

Bjorn then screamed long and loud because it was perfect! Not only was it a tattoo but it was a tattoo of Rekker's cock! A big erect cock with ginger hair around the top. It looked exactly like the grumpy ginger's manhood and the younger Swede was ecstatic. Hans just pinched his nose because it looked fucking obscene to him. Whatever next. His brother had gone and got himself a tattoo of Rekker's cock on his arm.

"Classy, Bjorn. Really classy. How much did this cost? Or was it Rekker's money? You know don't answer because just---oh fuck. At least you like it."

Slumping back onto his bed Hans was now being given a one-armed hug by Bjorn who was keeping his tattooed arm away from his stoic brother. Hey, Hans should get one too! What about getting the hairy boy's cock tattooed on Hans' arm? That could work!

"Why don't you get one of these, Hans? You can stare at hairy boy's cock at night and jerk off with your free arm."

Hans just looked wide-eyed at Bjorn and just burst out laughing at how ridiculous it all sounded. Honestly, the shit Bjorn came out with never failed to cause the older Swede to laugh. The younger Swede then bounded out the room obviously drunk and high the proceeding to scream loudly down the hotel corridor going to brag about his new tattoo. Hans gazed out of his room to notice Weird nearly getting barrelled over by the crazy trashy singer. Had Rekker even seen it yet?

Comments

[rage_rekker]

Bjorn had come to show Rekker and things went to hell. They didn't fight, not since they met, but this turned into screaming and crying. Both of them hurt, guilty, and for the ginger, the panic attacks it caused weren't helping. He locked himself in the hotel room after the fight and smashed shit, including his black guitar he had been restringing when Bjorn originally came in. He put it through the wall before it broke.

Then he started eating anxiety medication to try an calm down. Everytime he thought he had it buckled down another wave hit leaving him feeling like he was drowning.

Eventually, Devon came walking on eggshells. He had talked to Mikkel and Bjorn separately about making the tattoo less obvious. And he had a drawing of some beautiful flowers and water, a couple even, that the young Dane had drawn. He didn't stay. Devon knows to leave the Brit alone, though he did take most of his medication to keep that darkness from adding to the already hellish mess going on.

It took a long time for the ginger to calm down but Devon was right. It was done and now they had to deal with what was, a hard concept with his anxiety eating up his insides. The guitarist stared at the drawings and then went to dig his suitcase out of the shambles of the hotel room. He pulled out one of his stage bracers. They were his and if that was the Swede's goal, to be marked by him somehow, this was at least a better option. The black leather with steel pentagrams had been his image for decades. He sighed and headed down the hall to try and find Bjorn.

Eventually, he made it to Hans' room and came in slowly. His hair is wild, knuckles bloody, hands cut from breaking the guitar and the strings snapping but he has the drawing and the leather bracer in hand. He loves the Swede despite how much this hurt, how much it broke his privacy and sense of being able to control his personal space. It still ate his anxiety and kept his features pale, near sickly white.

[metallhuvud]

Hans was still holding a crying, shaking mess that was his brother suffering from the aftermath of his tattoo argument with Rekker. Gods. Why did he have to go out trashed and get a tattoo of his lover's cock? On his fucking arm of all places. The older Swede stroked Bjorn's hair as the two sat on the bed in Hans' room. Bjorn was a stupid child at times but his brother loved him. The door went and then entered Rekker himself looking worse for wear. Hans could tell. Oh fuck. He was angry and ashamed that Bjorn had done this to the Brit but what else was new? Bjorn was reckless and childish. He just hadn't thought this through as usual.

"Rekker."

The older Swede gave the ginger a nod and wanted to apologise but knew that was Bjorn's place not his. Eyeing the bracer, Hans shook Bjorn to and then noticed the trashy singer wiping at his smeared make-up; his face a mess from tears and his hair ruined. Sniffing, he looked up through bleary eyes and didn't know what to say. He eventually uttered a few words his voiced cracked;

"---Babe?"

[rage_rekker]

Rekker tried not to lose his temper again when he saw the tattoo. It took breathing through his desire to start screaming again.

"I'm still pissed." Rekker says it quietly but Devon was right that he had to be honest through this or it wouldn't go well in the long run. "I...."

He just sort of motions with his hands, one with the drawings and the other with the bracer. Sighing heavily to try and fight his internal storm of emotions. "Can we.. I don't know.. talk about fixing this?"

Rekker is so off his norm, stressed, angry, and trying so hard to keep it all bottled up so they don't start fighting again.

[metallhuvud]

Just seeing Rekker looking so pissed and angry was giving Bjorn flashbacks to when they first fought in the elevator, arguing until they both collapsed on the floor, tired and emotionally exhausted. The singer had never meant for the tattoo to cause any upset and he blamed himself entirely, trying to rub it off with his nails, causing a few scratches on his skin. Hans had pushed his way into the bathroom to stop Bjorn from hurting himself even further due to his upset state. He was keeping his arm hidden for now because it made him uneasy just showing it to Rekker now.

"I never meant for this to happen...this wasn't---"

Hans put a finger on Bjorn's lips and shushed him gently. It was time for the singer to listen and try to correct the error of his ways. Rekker had made the effort to come into the room and was willing to help. This was a good sign.

"Sorry. Yeah---I fucked up. Let's, just let's fix this."

Bjorn admitting he'd fucked up which was the most adult thing he'd said since coming back from the parlour high as a fucking kite. Hans squeezing his brother's shoulder in support.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker shuffled around for a moment. He's stressed to the breaking point and everything is hard. Existing feels hard right now. After a moment, he comes to sit on the other side of Bjorn from Hans. He's not sure what to do with himself though. In the midst of his anxiety the Brit gets awkward, fearful of doing everything wrong. Years of his parents and sister yelling, where everything he did was wrong. He's afraid if that now, still as a much older man, that all attempts will be met with rejection and eventually hate.

If it wasn't for the intense anxiety he'd hug Bjorn but he's bad off. Skin pale white, hands cold and shaking slightly. He's having a hard time even sitting but his force of will is keeping him seated.

"I.. well.. Devon had Mikkel draw some things that I like to maybe.. I don't know... not be such a glaring cock on your arm." The anger was sneaking out and Rekker paused fighting it down until he felt sick to his stomach from rage. "But... it has to heal first so..."

His words weren't coming right and it fuels his anger more, rage at himself. He's usually articulate and the lack of it through the anxiety is frustrating. He just pushes the bracer at Bjorn.

"I made these when I was maybe younger than you. I always wear them." He shrugged and looked down as the waves of ill feeling came and went. "Devon said you wanted to wear me or something."

[metallhuvud]

Hans made a little room so that Rekker could sit down on the bed and wasn't surprise when he chose to sit on the other side of Bjorn. The man was still hurting and it showed. The older Swede wanted to reach out and touch the ginger but knew that would be a bad move for someone with anxiety like Rekker. So instead, Hans nodded and stayed quiet, allowing his brother to speak to his lover.

"I---yeah. It needs to heal. Fuck, babe---I...just yeah."

Stilling his words, Bjorn fought back more tears but was strong. He knew he'd made a mistake through his reckless actions and was now suffering the consequences. Rekker was not the usual trashy slutty boyfriends he'd had in the past and this sort of crazy shit couldn't be gotten away with. The man had severe anxiety and depression and Bjorn had all but forgotten about that while high off his fucking head.

"He's right. I did want to wear you---"

Taking the bracer pushed towards him, Bjorn slid it on over his scratched arm which was now covering the tattoo. Hans knew this would be the best idea until the tattoo could be changed in some way. Modified so that the cock wouldn't be visible as much.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker sat there quietly and then shook his head when Bjorn went to put it on. His hand coming out to slide it back off. Rekker's hands are ice cold.

"It's for when you go out and you have to cover the tattoo first." He found his voice in the moment to keep Bjorn from hurting himself. "I'll show you later but... i.I.. want you to keep it. I'll wear the matching one on stage."

It was something that, at least the Hexed fans, would pick up on immediately. Rekker's signature bracer on someone else, never mind the pink diamonds on his other wrist. Once they touched though Rekker's hand lingered. He's breathing hard, panicking that everything is just going to crash back down around him.