Derek "Rekker" Sterling (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rage_rekker) wrote2022-02-14 04:34 pm
rage_rekker) wrote2022-02-14 04:34 pm
What am I doing with my life?
101 Ways to say I love you 54. "No one has ever made me feel like this."
Rekker was holed up in the room he shared with Bjorn while the singer was out practicing and probably drinking by this point in the day. However, the Brit was reeling from his brother’s words a few days ago on the beach. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and he hated the holiday, the same way he hated most holidays. Though, he imagined Bjorn was exactly the opposite and would probably be throwing heart confetti about the room, or something, soon enough.
He was drinking, albeit slowly, while trying to think. He’d pull the box out and then cram it back into his vest pocket only to pull it out a few minutes later. Nothing seemed to be calming him down and his mind kept spiraling on the fact that Bjorn deserved better and probably didn’t even want this. Not that he could do anything meaningful anyway. He threw the empty rocks glass across the room and started drinking directly from the bottle.
Everything was shit. The situation, the world, and his life. The desire to simply walk away and disappear off the face of the Earth was feeling good in the moment. However, he felt chained to the singer. Not chained in a bad way like a prisoner but the feeling was still there. Rekker shoved his hair out of his face to stare at the door. He wanted to see the singer step in and desperately wanted him to stay away. Do it anyway, his brother’s words kept running around and around in his head, even when he got up and started pacing the small hotel room. It wasn’t exactly small, but the caged animal feeling brought on by Rekker’s anxiety caused his perception of it to shrink down.
Grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey, he headed for the door. Maybe getting away would help, some fresh air. His hand was about to touch the knob when the giggling came from the other side. Rekker instantly panicked as he recognized Bjorn’s giggling. He was going to walk in any moment. The guitarist went sheet white with panic as he took a couple steps back from the door. His heart was racing so fast it felt painful in his chest. He realized this was a full out panic attack and drunk he couldn’t take any medication for it. As his hands went cold, he dropped the bottle and spun around wondering if he could hide which was obviously ridiculous.
He'd never had anyone make him feel like this. The happiness crashing headlong into a caged animal level of anxiety that almost left the ginger feeling faint. That would be his luck, Bjorn walk through the door, and he immediately faints. Turning back toward the door he ran his hands through his hair, terror rising because Bjorn was surely about to come through the door, and he wasn’t ready.
Rekker was holed up in the room he shared with Bjorn while the singer was out practicing and probably drinking by this point in the day. However, the Brit was reeling from his brother’s words a few days ago on the beach. Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and he hated the holiday, the same way he hated most holidays. Though, he imagined Bjorn was exactly the opposite and would probably be throwing heart confetti about the room, or something, soon enough.
He was drinking, albeit slowly, while trying to think. He’d pull the box out and then cram it back into his vest pocket only to pull it out a few minutes later. Nothing seemed to be calming him down and his mind kept spiraling on the fact that Bjorn deserved better and probably didn’t even want this. Not that he could do anything meaningful anyway. He threw the empty rocks glass across the room and started drinking directly from the bottle.
Everything was shit. The situation, the world, and his life. The desire to simply walk away and disappear off the face of the Earth was feeling good in the moment. However, he felt chained to the singer. Not chained in a bad way like a prisoner but the feeling was still there. Rekker shoved his hair out of his face to stare at the door. He wanted to see the singer step in and desperately wanted him to stay away. Do it anyway, his brother’s words kept running around and around in his head, even when he got up and started pacing the small hotel room. It wasn’t exactly small, but the caged animal feeling brought on by Rekker’s anxiety caused his perception of it to shrink down.
Grabbing the half empty bottle of whiskey, he headed for the door. Maybe getting away would help, some fresh air. His hand was about to touch the knob when the giggling came from the other side. Rekker instantly panicked as he recognized Bjorn’s giggling. He was going to walk in any moment. The guitarist went sheet white with panic as he took a couple steps back from the door. His heart was racing so fast it felt painful in his chest. He realized this was a full out panic attack and drunk he couldn’t take any medication for it. As his hands went cold, he dropped the bottle and spun around wondering if he could hide which was obviously ridiculous.
He'd never had anyone make him feel like this. The happiness crashing headlong into a caged animal level of anxiety that almost left the ginger feeling faint. That would be his luck, Bjorn walk through the door, and he immediately faints. Turning back toward the door he ran his hands through his hair, terror rising because Bjorn was surely about to come through the door, and he wasn’t ready.
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"Babe? What's wrong? You look fucking drunk and---shit have you been drinking?"
The Swede's eyes noticed the bottle on the floor and found himself sighing. Fuck. Rekker wasn't supposed to drink, not with all the cocktail of meds he was on. The singer closed the door behind him and instantly ran to hug the Brit. He wanted to make sure Rekker was ok because he didn't look right at all.
"I thought you weren't supposed to be drinking. Fucking naughty."
Bjorn slapped Rekker on the ass hoping it would cheer him up somewhat.
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"A little." He answered shakily but that was a lie. The bottle had been nearly empty when he dropped it on the floor. Bjorn had seen mild panic attacks but nothing this bad from the ginger. He finally pushes out of the hug because it felt suffocating. He's panting hard and staring at the Swede.
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Bjorn felt the man's skin and it was cold and clammy. Fuck. Was he having one of his meltdown attacks? A panic attack? The Swede kissed his cheek quickly before stepping back from the hug and holding both of the ginger's hands squeezing while looking at his panicked face. He didn't look well at all.
"Tell me what's wrong, babe. I want to help."
The blond kissed the corner of Rekker's mouth and then began stroking his back softly, just wanting the man to calm down and be alright.
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"I... Fuck!" Rekker shoved his hair out of his face roughly while trying to calm down. None of it was working. "There.. fuck."
He couldn't get anything sensible out. Surely Bjorn was going to run like everyone else had in his life. Could it get any worse than his mind was imagining now? Probably not. Rekker's panic peaked to the point that he swayed in a way that was indicative of passing out. He forced his hand into his pocket and pulled out that lilac velvet box.
"You.." Words just left him but the box had an ocean blue diamond ring inside. "It doesn't mean fucking shit anywhere."
He wanted to throw the box across the room in a rage but managed to maintain the death grip on it.
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Bjorn was about to put his arms around the panicked ginger when he was having a lilac velvet box thrust into his hand. What? The Swede frowned a little as he looked down at the small box now in his palm. A velvet box but what was inside? Fuck, it looked like a ring box but---
"Fuck, is this what I think it is?"
The singer opened it up slowly feeling his heart begin to hammer inside his chest as he squealed loudly noticing the glint of the diamonds and metal. Holy fuck! It was an engagement ring! The Swede immediately screamed loud and ran around the room giggling like mad holding the ring box above his head. He then ripped the door open and screamed long and loud down the hallway.
"AHHHHHH!! REKKER BOUGHT ME A RING! A FUCKING ENGAGEMENT RING!"
The Swede then ran back in the room and was now crying with joy, slinging his arms around the ginger, kissing him on the face, all over his face, excited and over the moon, jumping up and down pulling on Rekker's hair at the same time.
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He couldn't say anything because the panic is so stressful that it's taking all of his mental ability to not faint or run away. "I wish it could mean something."
Rekker is in a pit of depression over the laws and his inability to actually get married that Bjorn's sudden energy startled him. It's startling and Rekker feels lost in the moment. He does put his arms around Bjorn when he comes back.
"I...." Rekker's stress turns to frustrated tears. "I can't marry you. FUCKING LAWS!!"
Rekker is still frustrated and angry but he's clinging to Bjorn like his life depends on it. "Fuck, I want...."
He stops himself and takes a deep breath while taking the box back and pulling the ring out. Staring at it for a moment before looking to Bjorn, ready to put it on his finger. Then the stress breaks as he looks closely at the joy and tears in Bjorn's expression, but it's still there.
"I guess... would you marry me if I could and the fucking laws here and at home weren't so fucking shitty?" Rekker's still stressed, panicked and honestly pissed off.
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"Who the fuck says you can't? Why don't we get married back home in Sweden? Or in Norway? Men can marry each other there. I fucking want to marry you, Rekker. You stubborn, grumpy ginger bastard! No one's ever asked me before and----and----this is fucking crazy and I LOVE YOU!"
The Swede just squealing loudly once more, clinging onto the Brit with his arms, holding the ring and looking at it while peeking over Rekker's shoulder. It was so pretty! How much had it cost? The Swede didn't want to ask since that was rude but he assumed it was really fucking expensive.
"It's so beautiful, babe. The colours! Ooh, so pretty!"
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He's so mad about that, furious and wanting to beat someone up over it but that wouldn't help. He looks down at Bjorn's hand when he puts the ring on it. "I've asked before and been left."
Rekker had been ignored or outright told no in the past. However, he holds Bjorn tightly. "I love you, to, bitch."
He pulls Bjorn's hand to look at the ring. "The ring's based on Topanga Beach. My favorite surf beach and the one I always took you to." Rekker leaned in and kissed Bjorn gently.
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Bjorn was pissed at all the shitty laws around gay marriage and wished they could be easier and more accepting. But it was what it was and the two would have to deal with it somehow. Poor Rekker though. Left after proposing to someone, no doubt a woman.
"Even though I'm not a woman I can still give you what any other woman can. Fuck, can I. Topanga Beach? The one where you nearly threw me into the fucking water with my clothes on? You bastard. I love you."
The Swede just pulled Rekker in for a hug and a kiss on the lips. Wait until he showed the ring to the others. Hans! Oh and---everyone else in the band! What would they all say? Robert! Just---it was so exciting to be someone's fiance.
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It wasn't depression talking but realistic. He could off himself at any moment and there's just age itself. Rekker started to nuzzle into the Swede. "You're what I want, not some fucking woman."
The Brit might feel done with women at this point after so many walking away from him for some reason or another. He starts to laugh. "Yes, and most of the other times we've visited the beach. You look hot in the sunsets there."
Not that Bjorn didn't always look hot but through the stress and coming down from panicking Rekker is starting to flirt. "Do you really want to be Bjorn Sterling?"
Now he is outright teasing while he pulls the Swede in close. "You're so fucking beautiful."
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Bjorn giggled because that's what Hunter and some of the others called Erik's sugar druid. It was cute. Both the young Swedes in love with their older British men. Rekker being no exception to that rule being older himself and definitely dirty at times. The Swede didn't like woman at all in any sexual capacity so this pleased him to hear the words coming from the ginger's mouth.
"Woman are complicated. I'm me and---I'm yours! No one else will have me, babe. I want to be Bjorn Sterling. Hans can be your brother in law. Oh, it's fucking cute!"
Bjorn squeaked and then kissed Rekker's lips; his fingers tugging on those long ginger locks once more. Being called beautiful felt the best thing in the world right now because someone really wanted him. This wasn't some drunken fuck or fling with a groupie. Rekker was a real man and was wanting to marry the trashy singer.
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"Robert will be your brother in law." Rekker laughed imagining Robert hearing that from someone. It was true and he knew that his brother was happy for him the same way Rekker was pleased to see Erik with his brother. The Brit leaned into that kiss, hands on the singer's ass. It felt euphoric to hear that Bjorn wanted him forever.
"Bjorn, you're perfect."
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Bjorn giggled and then realised that the old man would be his brother in law. What did Robert even think of that? Being the trashy loud mouthed Swede's brother in law. No doubt Hans would find it hilarious and then there was Erik. That meant it would eventually bring the Ivarssons, Larssons and Sterlings together as one family. It was fucking perfect!
"You're perfect too in all your grouchy glory."
Smirking, Bjorn then kissed Rekker's neck and bit his earlobe. Oh, this day couldn't get any better, could it? The Swede now sporting a beautiful ring on his finger as well as the expensive bracelet Rekker had bought previously.
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The Brit kept kissing Bjorn down his neck and groaned at the feel of those soft lips on his neck. He pulled on the Swede, grabbing on the singer's ass.
"I want you." Rekker growled against the Swede's neck. "You're too fucking hot to be dressed."
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The Swede giggled a high girlish sound while gasping at Rekker kissing down his neck. Fuck! He was getting aroused now that the ginger had his mouth on him. The ass grab caused a small squeak to get pulled from those pink pouty lips. Bjorn knew how much the ginger loved his lips.
"Now you're fucking horny after near fainting on me? I love you, Rekker Sterling."
Bjorn reached around to grab Rekker's own ass, giving both cheeks a good squeeze before grazing his lips against the Brit's Adam's Apple. He wanted the ginger bastard so much.
"Strip me, bitch."
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"If I am it's your fucking fault." Rekker definitely was and pressed his hips into his... fiancé. That was such a strange thought to have. The grab got a moan and gentle bite as Rekker started to pull Bjorn's shirt off.
"You're the bitch that needs to get to stripping." The tension faded now because so much of it revolved around worry that Bjorn would say no.
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Bjorn pulled on Rekker's hair and realised that the "cockhead" he had in his grasp was now his fiancé. Fuck. What a thought! Had anyone heard the screams down the corridor? Surely, they had because the trashy Swede had near shouted down the whole hotel with his voice.
"You mean I'm so fucking hot you can't keep those huge hands off me?"
Sticking his tongue out, Bjorn then groaned when Rekker began taking his shirt off. The ginger always got him hot whenever he stripped him and right now he was getting harder every second. Rekker was all he wanted right now. The Swede's lips once again finding their way to the Brit's neck, biting a little just underneath his ear.
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"Or my cock out of you." Rekker's getting wound up in a hurry and grinned. "Lay down!"
He was demanding it, of course. This was nothing new but he had his mind on a lot of different things to do to the Swede, almost too many, or maybe neither of them were going to leave the room for the rest of the night.
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"Make me, bitch!"
Giggling once more, Bjorn jumped onto the bed and then waved his ass in the air, just because he was so happy and in a playful mood. The ginger Brit wanted him? Then, the Swede would play hard to get just because it felt good to be wanted. To be wanted as someone's husband. He also loved it when Rekker got rough with him.
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Rekker tossed off his shirt before coming over to the bed. "I'm going to make you scream louder than you were running around this fucking room."
Rekker grabbed a hold of the Swede's leg, yanking on him so that he could get his boots off. The boots were always such a bitch to get off, mostly because Bjorn squirmed all around when the Brit tried to strip the bitchy singer.
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Bjorn gasped when Rekker slapped his ass hard. Just having the ginger Brit treat him roughly caused a lewd moan to slip from his lips as he turned to see Rekker now shirtless. Those muscles---fuck, he looked so hot like that! Giggling, Bjorn then felt the Brit yank his leg so he could pull his boots off.
"Hey, be careful, bastard!"
The Swede was in a fit of giggles because he was loving it. The roughness and also the part that Rekker was feeling better. Was the trashy singer about to get fucked hard? Oh yes. The screaming would soon happen and Bjorn couldn't wait. He turned over onto his back and allowed the Brit to continue stripping him.
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Laughing quietly, Rekker grabbed the waist of Bjorn's pants and roughly pulled those off too, though he is careful not to rip them. It left the Swedish singer sprawled out naked on their bed. Rekker paused a moment to admire all the smooth pale skin while tossing the pants aside with the boots.
"You're so fucking hot, whore." Crawling into bed, and aiming to get on top of the singer, the Brit stopped to kiss around his navel and give the soft skin just below a playful nip. Rekker felt high as the reality set in. Bjorn wanted to stay.
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Bjorn soon felt the cool air against his now naked skin as he arched up into that kiss to his navel, thrusting his fingers into that mass of wild ginger hair. Fuck! The nip got a lewd moan out of the trashy Swede who was now hard and aching. He didn't have any body hair to speak of except a thin trail of dark blond hair leading down from his belly button to his pubic hair.
"You're fucking dirty, you greedy ginger asshole."
The Swede then bit Rekker's shoulder, moaning as he then laid back onto the bed, raking his nails down the Brit's back.
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"I am because you're mine." The Brit can't say anything more because the raking nails pulls a lusty moan from him. Every time the Swedish singer got his nails on the guitarist's skin he couldn't control himself. "You redid your nails."
Rekker could feel when Bjorn had reshaped them. It always made them feel better, sharper, digging into his skin. As soon as he catches his breath Rekker goes back to kissing on Bjorn's skin; down the hip and to the inner thigh. Sure, he's being a tease but Bjorn deserved it for how much he was a tease most days.
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Bjorn laughed and then nodded. He liked to redo his nails when he got the chance, often painting them with Lars because the tarty drummer liked doing his nails alongside the singer. It was a girly thing to do and Lars was girly like Bjorn. The Swede gasped when he felt Rekker nip at his thigh, causing him to grab some of the ginger's hair and pull roughly.
"I did them a few days ago with Lars. You love it when I file them enough to scratch you."
Raking his nails along Rekker's sides, Bjorn was still elated about getting such a beautiful engagement ring. Fuck! He was going to marry Rekker.
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