New Beginnings and rekindling an old flame.

[swedish_rocker]

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.

Comments

[metallhuvud]

"Your loss. All of us Scandi bitches are pagans and we're proud of it."

Bjorn wasn't about to push religion on the ginger bastard so just pushed his hair from his face and offered a coy stare. So, this angry ginger was Stardust's driver's younger brother? Cute. Was the older guy as fucking moody as this dude? Hopefully not. Bjorn just pulled out a bag of coke turned around facing away from Rekker, snorting a line off his hand, giggling and shoving the now empty bag inside his pants. He span around now jumping off the walls slightly with both feet and hands.

"What the fuck? How are you disgusting? People are fucking blind! You're ginger and having fucking massive hair that's long and yeah. Fuck them! You need love too, cute pie. It shouldn't be just the old man who gets all the cock."

[rage_rekker]

Rekker didn't care if other people had religions or whatever. His brother did and it never bothered him but he's glad the topic is dropped.

"I'm not so stupid I don't know what you just did." Rekker sighed at the stupidity since they were both musicians. Drugs were around everywhere which was problematic for Rekker and part of why he stayed out of the main scenes for the most part these days. Then the mixed signals were back. Rekker turned around ready to step off the elevator.

"Right." Rekker sighed and rocked on his feet impatiently. "Except you do find my body disgusting. I didn't forget you ran from me."

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn is way too high and trashed to be talking about anything as deep as religion right now. He wants to get out of this elevator and find the nearest bar because his throat tickled from where he swallowed some of the cocaine dust snorted up his nose. He stuck his tongue out at Rekker because he was aiming to be polite. Yes, him polite. In a blond way.

"I never said I found your body disgusting, babe. When the fuck did I even say that? Never. You just made that up. Not fair. I ran because---"

He turned and slammed his palm up against the cool metal wall of the elevator and sucked in a harsh breath. Fuck. The emotion now amplified because of the coke. He wanted to speak but all that came out was a weak croak.

"I ran because it reminded me of my brother taking his own life. It fucked me up for a long time and still does. Ok? That's why I fucking ran!"

Bjorn just sank to the floor, shoving his head in his hands. He was high but sometimes he mixed pills and shit in with the coke and it fucked with his head.

[rage_rekker]

"No, you just looked at me like I was a monster, sorry I got it wrong."

Rekker turned around when he heard the slam on the metal wall. Rekker watched him sink to the floor and saw way too much of way too many of his breakdowns in the behavior. How many times had he sat somewhere in his house, sunk against the wall in distress?

"Some of us are fucked up because they didn't leave us dead when we ended it." There's a heavy seriousness to Rekker's tone, the darkness he feels so often sinking into his voice. "I wonder how many times it's going to take before they realize I don't want to be brought back."

He's starting to spiral and can't be around people, he knows he can't and slams the emergency stop on the elevator to keep the doors shut. Rekker just sis down himself, shaking, angry that he's alive and just as angry about wanting to live. The panic attack that started earlier coming back full force now and leaving him shaking and flushed hor red in the face.

[metallhuvud]

The singer hadn't meant to have gone down this path. Not again. Just even thinking about seeing his brother plugged into fuck loads of machines and weird shit back in then hospital made him feel physically sick. The way Hunter cried his eyes out and held onto Bjorn beside Han's bed. The memories made him sniffle and wipe at his eyes. Fuck. The pills were fucking him up. They had to be. Right? That, or he was feeling something for the Brit that was tugging at his heart. Causing memories to resurface because Rekker had shit in his life too.

"You wanted to die. I didn't want my brother to die but he wanted to end it because of fucking society. The world is a fucking stinking pile of shit! I---I'm sorry about what you went through."

Bjorn was shaking a little himself but he wasn't having a panic attack just a bad drug trip powered by his trauma and emotional state. It was just amplifying everything to the max. He looked up make up all smeared and his hair now a mess as he shifted along the floor of the elevator towards Rekker, reaching out with his finger tips to brush against the man's shoe.

"We're fucked up but fucked up together. Shit."

[rage_rekker]

"I did die." Rekker corrects as he fold himself up almost like a kid, sitting there in his knees. "Two..I don't know four times?" Sometimes Rekker had done things and woke up not knowing and feeling like he had. No one ever mentioned it because his doctors said it would be bad for him to know when he succeeded, might encourage him to try again.

"It isn't the world always." He admitted as he trembled. "I was born like this. Nothing happened. I've always wanted to die." That wasn't exactly true, clouded by Rekker's self hate. A lot of people had fed into his depression and his desire to just not exist. There was truth to it too though. He had been a kid the first time he experimented with trying to die. His eyes are on the fingers touching his shoes. He wants to pull away from being touched. He doesn't want to deal with what comes with being touched by someone else, not someone he might like being around. He wants to scream and buries his hands in his hair to hide himself.

[metallhuvud]

"You did die."

Bjorn just repeated the words over again just trying to understand what this man was going through or trying to. But could he really? No. He hadn't died himself so had no idea what Rekker had been through. Fuck. How dark was his past? Much worse than Bjorn's and he had trauma and shit he didn't want to think about too. But dying? That was game over.

"Yeah, it is. A big blue ball of shit sometimes when it wants to be."

The Swede didn't know what else to say so just watched Rekker from where he was sat on the floor of the elevator, putting his head on his elbows which were now propped up on his knees. The high still in effect but he didn't even know what to say. The man wanted to die. Maybe he couldn't die because the world wanted him to live? There was some purpose in his life that was worth living for? At least Bjorn was thinking along those lines.

"The world doesn't want to let you go, babe. You're too good to die, Gingerlocks."

[rage_rekker]

He's wary about opening up farther because Bjorn ran last time but they are closed in now. He lets his arm fall and touches the long scar down his forearm. "I opened my arm once."

That one he remembered clearly because it took a long time and he was panicked about it while it was happening. That one had messed him up more than the others, if you can even say dying had degrees of messing with the mind. Rekker felt like people interfered and that was why he couldn't die. He understood some people would always try to stop him and came to terms with that long ago. The desire to shove Bjorn away so it didn't add another person to that list rose and fell away in a few breaths.

His gaze came up through the mess of hair. Bjorn couldn't get away but then neither could he. His eyes are unfocused while he tries to process what Bjorn means. He's not able to believe it but in all the blank staring he notices the signs that the Swede is having a bad trip on the coke that Rekker knows he snorted a few minutes ago. It's slow and purposeful when Rekker grabs his forearm and pulls. He hates being comforted but, often enough, feels better comforting someone else. Maybe this wasn't the worst that they were both shattered and nasty all the time?

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn just nodded, wincing at the image of Rekker opening up his arm. He didn't want to dwell on that image because it made him sick. He felt his stomach flip inside of him as he breathed out slowly. Just the whole emotion of it all washing over him like a bad drug trip which this was. The blond Swede near gasped when he felt his forearm being pulled. Eyes wide, Bjorn just allowed the ginger to pull his arm and wondered what he wanted. Did he require closeness? Touch from another to fill the void of pain?

"Rekker---"

The Swede grabbed with his hand and felt warm flesh beneath. An arm? Through the haze of the high and his tears, Bjorn knew he was holding onto the Brit in some capacity and it felt good. Very good. His heart began hammering even faster in his chest and he couldn't comprehend the feelings that were going through him right now.

[rage_rekker]

Honesty between them would be painful and Rekker knew there was a razor edge. Lying made people leave and who he was did too. He'd rather be honest in the long run if the outcomes were the same. He let out a ragged, pained breath.

His gaze was still unfocused when his eyes drifted to Bjorn's face after hearing his name. He's panicking inside and everything is feeding into it. It sends a quake through him and his palms start to sweat again. He lets out a breath trying to focus as he straightens out one of his legs and tugs a little harder now that he is staring at the paler hand on his sun-freckled forearm and its ridiculously painted nails. A moment passes where he can't catch his breath, as if he is about to plunge into an ocean and he knows he can't swim.

"Come here." The words come out quiet, shaky, nervous, maybe even scared. Rekker has no idea what he's feeling, everything maybe? But the offer is there because he can see the Swede is in a bad high. Rekker has weathered far worse attacks than what he was in now but he's not sure the Swede will get through.

[metallhuvud]

Come here.

Those were the only words Bjorn heard as he felt the Brit pull him closer. He didn't feel as if he was about to land into a bed of sharp thistles this time so moved into Rekker's lap. Now, they were both sat on the floor of the elevator in each other's arms; the singer sitting in the ginger guitarist's lap. The blond sighing slowly closing his arms because he had no words. He was slowly coming down from his terrible high, feeling sick to his stomach because he hadn't eaten in days and had just drunk booze and snorted coke.

Fuck.

"Gingerlocks."

Bjorn muttered the words quietly as he sat with the older man. The elevator was now at a standstill because Rekker had slammed on the emergency stop. Fuck whoever wanted to come and fix it.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker pulled Bjorn in, wrapping his arms around him and pulling the singer's head to his shoulder. He's a warm man, out of his mind and depressed, hateful and aggressive toward himself but other people can get past his walls and anger sometimes. Bjorn is slipping past and Rekker lets out another breath to try and steady his mind.

If someone opened the door that Rekker was leaning against he might explode. He's still unstable and tenuously holding in the emotional storm he feels.

"Derek?" Rekker says the name quietly. He wraps Bjorn up tighter, protectively. Rekker has been in so many dark places and while he is vicious with himself over them, and even toward others on occasionally, he's trying to bring the Swede around. He'd rather deal with the bitch that this crashed out version.

[metallhuvud]

"Derek? Is that your real name?"

Bjorn assumed it was Rekker but then that might be a stage or nickname. He hadn't expected the Brit to tell him his real name but why not now? They had both had breakdowns of sorts and emotional outbursts which had caused both men to crumple to the floor. The Swede didn't want to wish this was too good to be true so would tread carefully. The closeness felt nice and Bjorn felt a little more at ease with the man he only knew before as the angry bastard.

He slowly brought up a hand to touch at Rekker's hair only gently using his fingertips to touch a few strands so that no bangles got caught up this time.

[rage_rekker]

"My brother named me Rekker." It was still an important name and the one he used. Leaning into the Swede he took a breath, deeply exhaling to try and calm the emotions. "I wreck everything."

And he has affection for the name, would never stop using it because it was true. He doesn't quite notice the touch to his hair but it's soft and the curls a bit bouncy under the Swede's fingers. Eventually he notices, watching the fingers in his hair.

As suddenly as his rage usually came on he started laughing. His emotions flipped in ways outside observers sometimes perceived as seeming crazy. "Your hair is still shitty."

It doesn't come out insulting this time, more the teasing you'd give a friend over the one thing that annoyed you about them sometimes.

[metallhuvud]

"I wreck shit too but my brother often calls me galen pojke which means crazy baby boy. Just a stupid nickname but it sort of fits when I go up the fucking walls. We could wreck shit together?"

Bjorn thought that sounded like fun. Of course he meant wreck stuff as in tear up the town as a group of rockstars nothing violent or menacing. Still touching the ginger strands the Swede smiled. The comment about his hair just caused the singer to raise an eyebrow. His heart was beginning to beat normally once more as Bjorn began to breathe a little normally.

"You always think it's shit. How about you wash it for me? Then, you don't have to touch hairspray then."

It was a bold offer but one that Bjorn was totally serious about.

[rage_rekker]

"I can't like the rest of you do." Rekker let out a breath. "I won't survive it."

He meant the drugs and drinking so heavily. He'd spiral and crash out. He'd ODed before and nearly so mixing pills and booze which had actually been an accident. Not that anyone believed it was an accident when he was exhausted and fighting to sleep.

He was starting to level out again, the panic passing and the shakes subsiding. He turned to look at Bjorn's hair a little closer. "Don't you take care of it?"

It looked so ratty to the Brit, tangled, dry, split. A few moments passed before Rekker caught that this was some kind of serious offer. "I don't have anything for your hair. You need something for bleaching the fuck out of it."

[metallhuvud]

"Then, we can find something else to do that we both enjoy."

Was Bjorn actually flirting for real with the Brit? He might be. It depended on how Rekker took the Swede's words because he could be a filthy bitch when he wanted to be. Yet, right now it was all about getting back to some form of calm and normality whatever that might be. Rekker couldn't do drink or drugs which was fine because Hans didn't either, not after the OD and all the shit that went with that.

"Of course I look after it. I love doing my make-up and hair before going on stage. The hairspray just amps up my style. I could give you some tips if you like?"

The Swede gently tapping Rekker's chin playfully.

[rage_rekker]

"Sky diving, surfing, driving?" He was trying to think of sober things because if this was what drugs did to the Swede he should probably stay off of them too. There were places things like this went that no one needed to go, even if Rekker threw himself into that abyss often.

"Fuck! The desert isn't this dry." Rekker shook his head but leaned into the Swede in his lap almost nuzzling against him but its strange and awkward. "If your hair wasn't year old straw you might not need so much that your hair is like melted fucking candy someone left in the car."

[metallhuvud]

"Surfing, sky diving and driving? I'm up for all the crazy shit you want to throw at me, babe. I love living life to the full and going full throttle. That's when I'm not going down a dark shit hole like just now."

Bjorn shook his head and then giggled at Rekker mentioning about his hair being dry. It wasn't that dry was it? The Swede didn't think so. The dryness added to the fucking awesomeness of his hairstyle. The leaning in got the singer breathing a little quicker and he could smell more of the Brit's scent.

"It's not that dry."

Shifting in Rekker's lap slightly, Bjorn just liked sitting and being this close.

[rage_rekker]

Rekker had that long pause again glancing around. He felt the panic rising to a tightness in his chest and had to huff out a couple breaths before he could speak. "I have to go home.... if you want to go for a drive in the Hills?"

And it was out and he instantly wanted to take those words back. It was too late now. Rekker smells of leather from his jacket but also faintly of beer and coffee and the mixed scent of tea tree oil and other things in his hair.

Rekker laughed at the way the Swede tried to deflect his comments. His own hair was starting to fall all over as he leaned into the singer. He's used to the mass of curls that easily got caught on things or tangle. He finally touched the ends of Bjorn's hair and frowned.

"Stop being a bitch until I get a chance to fix it."

[metallhuvud]

"A drive in the Hills? Fuck yes do I want to! Are you going to show me your big motor?"

The Swede couldn't help but spout innuendo because he was finally starting to enjoy being with this British ginger-haired man. The insults had now simmered down to playful ones mostly regarding the state of Bjorn's hair. Hans often commented on how much hairspray his brother put into his mass of bleached blond tresses.

"My brother's hair is fluffy and mine is glam style."

Rekker's hair falling over him made the Swede smirk and he couldn't resist nuzzling into it slightly, enjoying the scent of the other man. The leather and tea tree oil were particularly nice. Bjorn stank of hairspray, perfume, booze and make-up products.

"I'm not being a bitch. You want to fix my hair, cutie? I'll allow you to."

[rage_rekker]

Rekker raised a brow and started to chuckle. "All my years in L.A. and this is the first bleach blond bimbo I'm going to have in my Firebird."

He's really grinding in on those insults but he's harassing on purpose now. It wasn't a lie really. Anyone who saw him driving was going to assume it was some bleach blond girl in the passenger seat. He's trying not to think about it though. He hasn't had anyone in his house aside from Robert and bandmates since his ex left... he couldn't even remember how long ago off hand right now. The closeness was feeling good though.

"With all that shit you plaster on your face and the flashy clothes I thought you glam brats would take better care of your hair."

[metallhuvud]

Bjorn just stared at Rekker for a good few moments before bursting out in laughter. The names the man was coming up with for the Swede were just too amusing and the singer actually liked that the guitarist was using them for him. They weren't insulting, not really. At least it was better than being called whore or stripper.

"Beach blond bimbo? I'll be your first one, aw. That's sort of cute, honey."

Glam brats also got a small snort of laughter out of the singer. The ginger really knew how to insult but in a good way. Bjorn didn't think anything of it and was just pleased Rekker was moving away from the dark place he was in a few moments ago. They both were.

"Glam brats? Not all my band dress like me you know, sweetie. My guitarist is quite masculine. Sort of like my brother. But as for me? I am sweet and tarty as they come."

Bjorn blowing a kiss at Rekker.

[rage_rekker]

"I'll show you the fucking glam bullshit out here." Rekker mentions as he shifts, finally becoming aware of how uncomfortable the metal door is against his back. "I'd never let those bastards in my car."

His hate has a lot of different facets to it that he isn't about to explain. Rekker gave Bjorn a shove right out of his lap for that blown kiss, though he can feel some heat in his cheeks. It's been a long time since anyone got this close to him that wasn't family. His last stint with mental health had thrown him into intense isolation.

"You're a fucking bitchy whore." Rekker's trying not to laugh when he says it this time. He's slower to stand, leg and hip tingling from being asleep as he gets back to his feet.

[metallhuvud]

"I want to see this LA glam scene for myself and see if it's as bad as you say it is."

Part of Bjorn was dreading seeing how the LA glam scene was compared to the Swedish one. Would it be worse? Whores? Strippers? Low lifes and scum bags? He would soon find out. It made the Swede smile to know that he was being offered the special treatment by the metal head.

"I'm the first glam bitch in your car then, babe? I'll try not to pollute it with my disgusting girly perfume as you put it."

A gentle nudge to Rekker's chest with his finger and Bjorn was actually looking forward to the drive. Then he was called a whore once more but the singer didn't react with a bitchy comment this time, instead he just sighed, shaking his head. It seemed some names would stick.

"You're a ginger bastard."

It was said with a playful undertone though.