Hans Larsson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
swedish_rocker) wrote2021-09-23 03:33 pm
swedish_rocker) wrote2021-09-23 03:33 pm
New Beginnings and rekindling an old flame.
Hans had met up with Vars and his new boyfriend Viktor whilst in Norway. The Swede had been pleased to catch up with Vars since he hadn't spoken to any of the Hammers face to face for a long time. How long had it been? Now, Hans and his younger brother, Bjorn, were on the way to LA along with Vars and Viktor to meet up with the rest of the Hammers and to meet two other bands; Ziggy and the Spiders from Mars and the Hell's Angels, Viktor's band. It would be good to get back with other musicians after spending some much time in rehab and Hans knew he could use all the company he could get. The months and years hadn't been easy and he'd often felt lonely or isolated from society after his stay in hospital following his near death experience. He'd overdosed on painkillers and Hunter, his ex-boyfriend had found it too much and had ran.
Hans still ached for Hunter in a way, even though the spark they had together was no longer there. He still missed the man though and the soft warm touches at night. But people moved on after months apart and Hans suspected Hunter had found another man. It was to be expected and the Swede bore no ill will towards his ex lover at all. Glancing to Vars, Hans then placed a hand on the man's shoulder as he felt nerves constrict his insides at meeting Hunter once more. Bjorn giggled and poked fun a little before getting a surly glare from Viktor. The Brit punk had attitude and Hans found him a little intimidating but nothing to the point of not liking the man. If Vars loved Viktor then Hans would find a friend in the fire-loving Brit. All the bands were a family and Hans knew this more than anyone. The question regarding Bjorn though---the young man was a live wire and loved to cause chaos and trouble wherever he went. Hopefully, Hans would be able to keep his brother out of anything bad.
He hoped.
"Well, it will be nice seeing Aarne and Rik again. Hunter---I missed him."
Hans swallowed hard and wondered how the man would even react.
Hans still ached for Hunter in a way, even though the spark they had together was no longer there. He still missed the man though and the soft warm touches at night. But people moved on after months apart and Hans suspected Hunter had found another man. It was to be expected and the Swede bore no ill will towards his ex lover at all. Glancing to Vars, Hans then placed a hand on the man's shoulder as he felt nerves constrict his insides at meeting Hunter once more. Bjorn giggled and poked fun a little before getting a surly glare from Viktor. The Brit punk had attitude and Hans found him a little intimidating but nothing to the point of not liking the man. If Vars loved Viktor then Hans would find a friend in the fire-loving Brit. All the bands were a family and Hans knew this more than anyone. The question regarding Bjorn though---the young man was a live wire and loved to cause chaos and trouble wherever he went. Hopefully, Hans would be able to keep his brother out of anything bad.
He hoped.
"Well, it will be nice seeing Aarne and Rik again. Hunter---I missed him."
Hans swallowed hard and wondered how the man would even react.
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The pat on the head got Bjorn's hair ruffled into a mess, not that the wind wouldn't be doing that soon anyway.
"I dropped a high performance engine in her a few years ago." That is a yes, yes the car is fast and Rekker drives recklessly and fast. The Firebird is also manual which Rekker appreciates compared to the modern automatic transmission. Rekker threw it in gear once the singer was buckled in and headed for the road.
"Is this your first time to LA?"
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Bjorn winked at Rekker and then squeaked a little at his ruffled hair. Whatever. His hair was sort of ruined anyway from the ginger messing it all up. Ah well. Soon, he'd get to style it back up once more. There was no way the Swede would be leaving now and Rekker was definitely the most manly person he'd met for a long time.
"Do you show your engine off to a lot of hot blonds?"
This was a tease but partly a question on Bjorn's behalf wondering about Rekker's past relationships. Did he prefer blonds?
"Yes. Not my first time to the States since Blixt toured in New York a few years ago. But my first time on the sunset strip as they say."
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He's teasing but also honest. Most of his partners had been brunettes, male or female for that matter.
He's not surprised that this was his first time out on the west coast. Most European bands did stay on the East coast. Rekker was already going over the speed limit and would soon be swerving between cars. He's a good driver, if incredibly reckless one by most people's standards.
"I live in the Hills above the strip. The roads are the best for fast driving."
The curved switch back roads of the hills were fun to drive on. Honestly, it wouldn't take long to get to the house, 20 minutes at most with how the Brit drove.
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Bjorn just giggled playfully and couldn't help but place a hand on Rekker's thigh gently as they drove fast through the winding roads of Los Angeles. What a ride it was too! The Swede loved how fast the car was going and knew that Hans would enjoy seeing and riding in such a car too since he was into high adrenaline sports.
"I wonder if you ride hard as much as you drive."
The singer not being able to hide all the dirty thoughts now flooding through his head. Did this mean that the ginger was some kind of rich sugar daddy? Taking a pretty blond back to his mega mansion in the Hills? Ooh. Bjorn felt like he was riding a totally new kind of high but without any drugs.
"Does this make you my ginger sugar daddy?"
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That hand on his thigh caught Rekker's breath and he glanced down at it and then over at his passanger which nearly made him rear end another car that he could barely swerve around. His pulse was pounding now from both the hand and the adrenaline of a near accident.
He didn't respond to that comment, for once, too busy trying to shake off the jitters from the close call. He does smirk though and shift the car up into overdrive to go a bit faster. The roads in the hills were narrow, barely wide enough for two cars in many places and he was now dodging oncoming cars as much as rounding the ones in his lane.
That question though had him slowing so he could stare at the Swede before laughing.
"When the fuck did I say I was dating you? Leave me out of your bullshit made up fantasies." He said it but his eyes glanced down at the hand on his leg. It felt good and his mind was in turmoil. No one liked him and he knew the singer was as likely toying with him like so many others had and yet, that touch had him thinking about dragging the mouthy bitch into the backseat of the car. Rekker took a ragged breath and tried to focus on the road.
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"Fuck---I didn't mean to make you do that. You're a fucking good driver though."
That was the truth of it all. As for made up fantasies? Bjorn had loads of those. Daydreams and naughty dreams revolving around the grumpy Brit. He wouldn't try to touch Rekker again not while he was driving since a wreck wouldn't be good at all. Also Hans would fly off the handle at that.
"You're taking me back to your huge ass mansion and driving me around in a fucking expensive sports car. Sugar daddy vibes, babe."
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"Did you just ask me for sex?" He looks over at the huge houses they are passing, truthfully much larger than the one he lives in. "I knew you were a whore!"
It wouldn't be long before they were to his more modest house. Rekker glanced at the Swede shaking his head. The turmoil the young singer caused for the guitarist was causing his stomach to turn with anxiety.
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When did Bjorn ever control what he said before he spoke? Hans often said the man's mouth was just a filthy burning trash compactor. Dumpster fire. The Swede laughed and pushed some of his hair back, grinning at his ginger companion. Was that what sugar daddies did? Drive their hot blonds back to their houses and fuck them? Bjorn licked his lips.
"Ooh, what a fucking mansion! I knew it. You're loaded, Gingerlocks. I bet you've got a hot tub, fucking huge shower and bed too."
Did the man have a huge booze cupboard too? Bjorn couldn't wait to get inside and live like a rich rock star. Well---it would come one day for himself but not yet. Blixt weren't as nearly well off as Rekker was.
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"My house is considered ridiculously small." That wasn't a lie either. The other houses in the Hills were easily 3 times larger than his with pools and shit. He pulled the Firebird up under the front deck. There was a garage but he didn't intend on staying long.
"I've been playing... probably as long as you've been alive." Rekker comments while sliding the t-tops back in place. He'd noticed the age difference and by behavior put the singer in his early 20s.
Walking up on the deck he went inside the sliding door into the living room and down the hall. One side was a huge greenhouse Rekker was unlocking. The other wall was covered in framed things, magazine covers, platinum albums from Hexed, photos, a couple music awards from magazines and other media, letters from other musicians who played his custom guitars on stage with photographs of them rocking out on them, and a green V guitar hung at the top covered in writing about Rekker being a fucking bastard and talking about kicking his ass. His band had done that to his favorite guitar when he was recovering from slitting his wrists. The things seemed to go back until Rekker was a teen from the dates. This was the wall that helped keep Rekker sane sometimes, reminded him not to die, but it also gave some insight into why he could have this house.
Rekker opened the glass door and knelt down. "Come on girl." And then there was a huge lizard climbing into his arms like a dog.. or a child.
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Bjorn may be telling a few lies but he thought it was amusing either way. A sugar daddy? That's what Hunter's brother had, didn't he? Robert the driver. That was cute. Now, it seemed the Swede singer had his own version of one in the form of grumpy ginger guitarist Rekker Sterling. Glancing around at the house Bjorn didn't think it was small at all.
"I'm 25. Old enough to understand that this place is fucking massive compared to the houses back home. I've never been to anywhere as near as big as this before. You guys know how to live."
The young blond just stared wide-eyed and impressed, giggling like a boy and noticing all the framed things and albums. The photos were interesting too and the guitars. Wow. So much stuff. Bjorn was slightly envious because he wanted Blixt to be as famous as Hexed one day.
"So much stuff, babe! I'm impressed. Hexed sound like really nice guys. Maybe in another twenty years time Blixt will be up here with your band and I'll be stinking rich too."
Bjorn laughed but then shrieked a little when Rekker opened the glass door. A fucking massive lizard! The Swede stood back and gasped, not knowing what to say as he gaped, looking at the huge reptile.
"Oh god! A fucking huge lizard! What a beast. She's, well she's---cute in a way I guess. I have a parrot back home called Fjädrar. He's a Scarlett Macaw."
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And there it was, a hint at how old the guitarist was and his experience. He watched Bjorn at his wall and all the memories up there. "I hope they are."
That was an honest and genuine wish for the singer. Rekker taught so many musicians and singer's, some made it but most didn't.
Rekker was rubbing and scratching the side of Crusher's neck just like someone would a dog. He only smirks at the Swede as he pushes the monitor down onto the floor but she's noticed the newcomer, head up and her long forked tongue flicking in Bjorn's direction.
"Crusher is like a puppy." He pets her and then walks toward the kitchen, past the open door to the studio. Crusher waits for a minute then looks after Rekker and starts sprinting into the kitchen because she knows he's getting her food out.
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Bjorn teased using his native tongue towards the Brit just because he could. He was a tarty bitch and sometimes acted like a spoilt brat when he wanted to. The Swede put Rekker somewhere in his early to mid-forties. Just judging by how long he'd been playing guitar and how old Robert was.
"Crusher? Nice name. My parrot's name means Feathers in English because he likes giving me a feather in the morning on my pillow whenever I wake up. Sort of pulls it out when grooming. He's so fucking cute."
Just watching the huge lizard run into the kitchen for his food caused the Swede to giggle. He wasn't scared per say more just shocked at seeing such a large reptile inside the house. It was no good Bjorn having a reptile back home since the climate was much too cold for such a beast to free roam around a house.
"She's hungry. I'm putting you around 42 ish? Maybe a little more. Talking of hungry where's the booze in this rich boy's palace? I'm fucking thirsty."
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"I'm not surprised you have a prissy, bright colored bird." It fit right in with the Swede's personality. Rekker had house plants too, some huge like the palms in his living room. Despite his dark personality, the house is full of natural light and life. Even Crusher's greenhouse is full of live plants. In the kitchen, built into the wall there are a few smaller enclosures; large tarantulas and a few scorpions. Rekker liked living things being around it helped him stay stable.
He's busied himself filling a large dog bowl with dead rats, whole prawns, pieces of chicken and a few other things while they talk, Crusher pacing around at his feet and trying to lick up on the counter top.
"If I have any it's in the cabinet under the rose hair." He meant the tarantula. Bjorn would find a vodka bottle with, maybe, three shots left in it. Rekker didn't keep it around because it was too easy to die. "I just turned 42 this month."
He finally comments. There's no sense in hiding his age because that was easy enough to find out.