Derek "Rekker" Sterling (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rage_rekker) wrote2023-02-14 12:39 pm
rage_rekker) wrote2023-02-14 12:39 pm
Entry tags:
You're acting like a child.
For 101 Ways to Say I love you #1 "You don't have to do this alone."
Rekker was in full panic but thankful that the bands had dragged Bjorn away, or rather they were doing a show and in another city. However, he would be back for Valentine's Day and the Brit had no plans. Holidays like this, where he was expected to do something miraculous, pushed his anxiety so far that he was paralyzed and couldn't make any decisions at all. All of that was compounded by the knowledge that Bjorn had, probably, never had a proper Valentine's given how he talked about his past partners. He wanted to get something or do something for the Swede but everything seemed to be not enough.
“Hey, are you alright?”
He looked up to see Torden stepping out of a taxis with a whole mess of bags. Rekker felt his heart clench up. The Dane was doing better by his partners than Rekker was doing for Bjorn. All he wanted to do was scream, or cry, or maybe smash something. It took willpower to not punch in the window of his car.
“You don't looks so good.” Torden set the bags on the stoop to the apartment building and walked over to the ginger, cautiously. He had heard enough stories about Rekker's temper to know better than to rush the man. Especially right now when his fists were clenched.
“It's nothing.” Rekker snapped as he turned back to his still closed car door.
“And that's bullshit.” Torden sent the attitude right back. Maybe it was all the years dealing with Mikkel's bratty behavior but Torden suddenly felt unbothered by the way Rekker was communicating and behaving. When the Brit didn't respond Torden pushed a bit harder. “Tomorrow?”
Rekker turned a death glare on the Dane who rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. Torden couldn't believe how much Rekker was acting like Mikkel right now. No wonder the two got along. He was a brat too. Torden sighed at the Brit “That won't work. You're less of a bitch than Mikkel.”
Rekker wanted to stay angry but those words broke through and he stifled the laugh as much as he could. All thoughts of saying something defensive and grouchy to the Dane was gone. Torden was glad to hear that bit of a laugh and shook his head.
“What the fuck are you worried for?” Torden couldn't imagine, for all the people here, Rekker shouldn't be worried about gifts. Every gift that Bjorn received was well received and everyone knew that from the screaming and whatnot that went on once Bjorn untangled himself from the Brit's ginger hair.
“You don't understand.” Rekker did snap even if he was still amused.
“I don't?” Torden felt his own temper flare. “You're an idiot.”
“and you should mind your own business.” Rekker turned on the much shorter Dane.
Torden stared up and the ginger and watched the temper and fire rising in his body language. “You're the one in the middle of the fucking lot staring at your car like a fool.”
Rekker felt the humor chip at his anger again and he hissed out a growl as he grabbed the car door and yanked it open.
“So you're going to be a temperamental bitch? No wonder you get along with those trashy blondes.” Torden wasn't afraid of anyone by this point in his life. He'd seen more than most, more than he ever wanted really.
“You want busted in the mouth.” Rekker had stopped again, hand still on the door.
“Do you think it will get you anywhere?” Torden let out an annoyed sigh. “Put your fucking claws away old man.”
Rekker couldn't believe the mouth on this Dane. It was so shocking he found himself laughing again. No one ever spoke to him this way. No one would dare, but then, after all the Danes had faced he shouldn't be this surprised.
“Go fuck your tarts.” He couldn't talk about this with the Dane, no matter how much he goaded him.
“I will, later.” Torden crossed his arms. “After you tell me what the hell is going on and stop being a bitchy little brat.”
Rekker couldn't believe it. It was so ballsy that he couldn't even muster the reaction to shove the Dane or whatever other aggressive action should have come out of this. He just sighed again and watched Torden grab the car door to stop him from getting in.
“I know you're too much of a mean bastard to accept help.” Torden rolled his eyes. “Open your fucking trunk for my bags and I'll go too.”
Rekker narrowed his eyes at the Dane. Torden stared right back at him. “What, do you think I'm so stupid I don't know you're being a belligerent prick because you haven't gotten anything for Bjorn yet?”
There was that mouth again. “Fine.” Rekker slouched down in the car and popped the trunk open. He wasn't going to get away from this bastard any other way. He should just bust his damned mouth but the truth was he respected the way he simply didn't give a shit about how angry Rekker was at him.
The Brit glanced over as the dark haired Dane got in the passenger seat. “You're a dumb fuck.”
Torden pulled on his seatbelt and rolled his eyes. “I'm used to this shit. You sound just like Mikkel when he was 14 or 15. All fucking mouth and stubborn, I'm going to do everything myself, asinine bullheaded loud mouth.”
Rekker just stared at Torden, hand on the key in the ignition. He hadn't expected the sweet Dane to be like this. He had a mouth on him that would probably put Viktor, and even Tom, in a seat given the reason. It was still startling.
Torden sighed. “Go to the bakery. The one down on the road by the beach.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Rekker pulled away from the apartments, annoyed but also reluctantly amused.
“Do you want to surprise your big mouth bitch or are you going to keep being one in his absence?” Torden crossed his arms and stared out the window. This bastard was worse than the tarts it seemed.
Rekker though started to laugh again. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to have some help, and company. At least he'd keep the Brit amused if nothing else.
Rekker was in full panic but thankful that the bands had dragged Bjorn away, or rather they were doing a show and in another city. However, he would be back for Valentine's Day and the Brit had no plans. Holidays like this, where he was expected to do something miraculous, pushed his anxiety so far that he was paralyzed and couldn't make any decisions at all. All of that was compounded by the knowledge that Bjorn had, probably, never had a proper Valentine's given how he talked about his past partners. He wanted to get something or do something for the Swede but everything seemed to be not enough.
“Hey, are you alright?”
He looked up to see Torden stepping out of a taxis with a whole mess of bags. Rekker felt his heart clench up. The Dane was doing better by his partners than Rekker was doing for Bjorn. All he wanted to do was scream, or cry, or maybe smash something. It took willpower to not punch in the window of his car.
“You don't looks so good.” Torden set the bags on the stoop to the apartment building and walked over to the ginger, cautiously. He had heard enough stories about Rekker's temper to know better than to rush the man. Especially right now when his fists were clenched.
“It's nothing.” Rekker snapped as he turned back to his still closed car door.
“And that's bullshit.” Torden sent the attitude right back. Maybe it was all the years dealing with Mikkel's bratty behavior but Torden suddenly felt unbothered by the way Rekker was communicating and behaving. When the Brit didn't respond Torden pushed a bit harder. “Tomorrow?”
Rekker turned a death glare on the Dane who rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. Torden couldn't believe how much Rekker was acting like Mikkel right now. No wonder the two got along. He was a brat too. Torden sighed at the Brit “That won't work. You're less of a bitch than Mikkel.”
Rekker wanted to stay angry but those words broke through and he stifled the laugh as much as he could. All thoughts of saying something defensive and grouchy to the Dane was gone. Torden was glad to hear that bit of a laugh and shook his head.
“What the fuck are you worried for?” Torden couldn't imagine, for all the people here, Rekker shouldn't be worried about gifts. Every gift that Bjorn received was well received and everyone knew that from the screaming and whatnot that went on once Bjorn untangled himself from the Brit's ginger hair.
“You don't understand.” Rekker did snap even if he was still amused.
“I don't?” Torden felt his own temper flare. “You're an idiot.”
“and you should mind your own business.” Rekker turned on the much shorter Dane.
Torden stared up and the ginger and watched the temper and fire rising in his body language. “You're the one in the middle of the fucking lot staring at your car like a fool.”
Rekker felt the humor chip at his anger again and he hissed out a growl as he grabbed the car door and yanked it open.
“So you're going to be a temperamental bitch? No wonder you get along with those trashy blondes.” Torden wasn't afraid of anyone by this point in his life. He'd seen more than most, more than he ever wanted really.
“You want busted in the mouth.” Rekker had stopped again, hand still on the door.
“Do you think it will get you anywhere?” Torden let out an annoyed sigh. “Put your fucking claws away old man.”
Rekker couldn't believe the mouth on this Dane. It was so shocking he found himself laughing again. No one ever spoke to him this way. No one would dare, but then, after all the Danes had faced he shouldn't be this surprised.
“Go fuck your tarts.” He couldn't talk about this with the Dane, no matter how much he goaded him.
“I will, later.” Torden crossed his arms. “After you tell me what the hell is going on and stop being a bitchy little brat.”
Rekker couldn't believe it. It was so ballsy that he couldn't even muster the reaction to shove the Dane or whatever other aggressive action should have come out of this. He just sighed again and watched Torden grab the car door to stop him from getting in.
“I know you're too much of a mean bastard to accept help.” Torden rolled his eyes. “Open your fucking trunk for my bags and I'll go too.”
Rekker narrowed his eyes at the Dane. Torden stared right back at him. “What, do you think I'm so stupid I don't know you're being a belligerent prick because you haven't gotten anything for Bjorn yet?”
There was that mouth again. “Fine.” Rekker slouched down in the car and popped the trunk open. He wasn't going to get away from this bastard any other way. He should just bust his damned mouth but the truth was he respected the way he simply didn't give a shit about how angry Rekker was at him.
The Brit glanced over as the dark haired Dane got in the passenger seat. “You're a dumb fuck.”
Torden pulled on his seatbelt and rolled his eyes. “I'm used to this shit. You sound just like Mikkel when he was 14 or 15. All fucking mouth and stubborn, I'm going to do everything myself, asinine bullheaded loud mouth.”
Rekker just stared at Torden, hand on the key in the ignition. He hadn't expected the sweet Dane to be like this. He had a mouth on him that would probably put Viktor, and even Tom, in a seat given the reason. It was still startling.
Torden sighed. “Go to the bakery. The one down on the road by the beach.”
“Why the fuck would I do that?” Rekker pulled away from the apartments, annoyed but also reluctantly amused.
“Do you want to surprise your big mouth bitch or are you going to keep being one in his absence?” Torden crossed his arms and stared out the window. This bastard was worse than the tarts it seemed.
Rekker though started to laugh again. Maybe it wouldn't be that bad to have some help, and company. At least he'd keep the Brit amused if nothing else.