Old Trauma and Open Wounds
Jan. 5th, 2022 08:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
suomi_thunderNote: Contains self loathing mindset, discussion of gender dysphoria.
71) "I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”
Aarne knew he was driving Joe crazy, but he didn’t want to leave the room. It started when all the Swedes began arriving, especially Bjorn but also some of the others. They were all feminine, perfect make up, smooth skin, higher voices. The Fin hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He just wanted to cover his whole body so no one could see him, not even Joe. He hated how he looked. He had hair in all the wrong places, too tall, too deep of a voice, and didn’t look quite right ever in all the lace and leather pants they all wore. He wanted to look like them, had since he was a teen and first started seeing people like the Swedes on TV or in magazines.
He hadn’t drank in over a day and felt ill from sobriety that was only compounded by his lack of food. He’d screamed at Joe earlier in the day when he tried to coax the drummer out for breakfast. He knew his partner was angry with him now, he’d never come back through the door. Aarne didn’t know what to do so he sat on the bed, long legs balled up and cried until he fell asleep. At least that didn’t hurt.
Hours later, possibly, he woke up still alone and the crying started again. This time as much loneliness and abandonment as his hatred of his appearance. Joe hadn’t come back and Aarne’s pained heart was convincing him more and more every minute that his Brit didn’t want him and would never come back. He’d walked out like all the other people Aarne had fallen for, only Joe took longer. It hurt more.
Aarne stood up slowly and went into the hotel bathroom to get a drink of water. Even the bathroom upset him, especially when he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror at the far end of the large bathroom. The tears came harder this time. The drummer was so angry at the dark hair on his legs and arms, the little trail of dark hair above the waist of his shorts. Everything was wrong with what he looked like and as he stared at the reflection Aarne accepted that Joe wasn’t coming back because he was ugly.
He turned away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the counter beside the sink, head back against the wall and crying so much that he didn’t even have tears left. All that was happening was a burning sensation in his eyes and waves of exhaustion from so much upset. He was so out of it that he didn’t notice anyone else come into the hotel room.
“Peachy?”
The voice sent a thrill of happiness through Aarne before horror set in and more self-disgust. He didn’t want the Brit to look at him anymore. There were so many prettier men now. Aarne didn’t want Joe to be stuck with someone as ugly as he was, he deserved someone better.
Joe came into the bathroom eventually and the Fin could see that he was drunk and still looking frustrated. Aarne didn’t move.
“Come on, babe.”
Aarne glanced over at the bassist walking toward him and shook his head, but Joe didn’t listen. He let the Brit pull him into a hug, but he couldn’t do anything more than cry, or try to but he was almost too tired to cry at this point. He felt drained and empty. It was the smell of the bassist that got through when the words and touch didn’t. The mix of Jack and hairspray and cologne and the smell of Joe’s body had the Fin very slowly wrapping his arms around the Brit and burying his face into the bassist’s shirt. Aarne needed the comfort so badly.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
He felt Joe’s hands in his hair and on his bare back. During the argument Aarne hadn’t told Joe what was wrong. He’d blown up over being touched and seeing Joe with the Swedes. Aarne didn’t know why it cut deeply but that one moment shredded open many old wounds. He took a long time to get his breathing back and stop trying to cry.
“You don’t have to stay with me. I don’t want you to be with someone ugly. You deserve someone pretty and girly.” Aarne’s voice was shattered and quiet. Gone was all the loud confidence and cheer that flowed unending from the drummer.
The sound Joe made expressed the incredulous shock he didn’t voice. “You’re sexy.”
Aarne didn’t believe him and shook his head against Joe’s chest. “I’m not feminine enough and….” He didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. “I looked in the mirror and know I’m not girly enough. Not for you or anyone else.”
“You’re my girl.”
The moment Joe whispered it into his hair Aarne burst into more tears, eyes burning and causing the drummer to rub at his eyes. He shouldn’t be anyone’s girl. He was just an ugly boy compared to all the others that were there now. The tug on his arm had his gaze turn up from Joe’s chest bleary, red eyed and filled with devastating pain. Another pull and Aarne slid off the sink to stand up.
“Turn around, Peachy.”
Aarne turned, partially because of Joe’s hands on his hips. He was facing the mirror again and immediately glanced around for anything to look at that wasn’t his reflection. The warm, wet of Joe’s lips on the back of his shoulder pulled his attention behind himself and away from the mirror. He could feel the Brit’s hands caressing his stomach and the front of his thighs. Aarne wanted to shove them away, but the touch also caused his heart to pound.
“Look at my sexy Fin.”
Aarne glanced from Joe’s face to the mirror. All he could do was stare at the Brit’s hands on his body. He watched them closely, felt them, and the stray kisses on his shoulder and bicep. Aarne wanted to argue about being sexy and crossed his arms awkwardly to try and hide his body somehow. He felt Joe pull off his little shorts and stared at his naked body in the mirror.
“Long legs.” Aarne watched Joe’s hands on his body while the Brit spoke. “Perfect peachy ass.” The drummer couldn’t place whether he felt disgusted or turned on by the touch and the way Joe drunkenly, nearly purred the words. “Cute belly, sexy fucking hair.”
Aarne felt a bit of a smile try to appear with the tug on his hair and the way Joe’s fingers played through it. His arms finally loosened where they were wrapped around his own body. Joe was very slowly getting through all the trauma and heartache Aarne had been wrestling with all day.
“Look at that hot, crazy Fin I love.” This time when Joe kissed the back of Aarne’s neck the Fin gasped. Even in shambles Joe’s touch felt amazing. It felt like love even when Aarne couldn’t believe he was anything worth loving.
“You’re my girly, sexy Fin, honey.” Joe’s words whispered so close to his neck had the Fin staring at his reflection and the arms wrapped around his slim waist. Relaxation came and then arousal as Aarne continued to watch the Brit touch his body, touch every inch of it in the reflection.
“We should fuck right here.” Joe peeked around from behind, grin as mischievous as a caught schoolboy in the reflection. “I want you to see you’re perfect, you sexy Fin.”
Aarne ignored the reflection for a moment to stare at Joe beside him, one hand on the drummer’s backside and the other on his thigh. Joe’s smile widened only seconds before he crushed their lips together. Joe’s gaze after the kiss pulled the Fin’s back to the mirror.
“You should watch us.”
Aarne did watch in the reflection as the Brit kissed along his arms and shoulders. The smile trying to appear again when he saw Joe’s shirt fall to the floor even if he couldn’t see the Brit behind him. More touching and the skin-to-skin contact felt like devotion, more than love even. Aarne couldn’t ignore the flood of emotions that touch invoked. Joe had come back. Joe wanted to touch him and thought he was a girl. These things mattered to the Fin.
Slowly, Aarne turned around and wrapped his arms around the Brit’s neck to pull him into a kiss. Their lips lingered for a long time, sapping away the depression. Eventually Aarne spoke and smiled.
“Do you still want me to watch?” Aarne wasn’t sure he wanted to give up being wrapped up in Joe’s arms right now.
“Babe, I want you to see how hot and sexy we are together.” Joe pressed their bodies closer and finally, Aarne giggled from the nuzzling Brit. “Turn around and watch my hot, sexy Fin.”
Aarne heard Joe’s pants slip to the tiles and kept his gaze on the mirror. He wanted to try and see himself the way Joe did when they were tangled together in pleasure. Aarne was desperate for anything that burned away his insecurities but even more so for the love and affection in the Brit’s touch.
71) "I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”
Aarne knew he was driving Joe crazy, but he didn’t want to leave the room. It started when all the Swedes began arriving, especially Bjorn but also some of the others. They were all feminine, perfect make up, smooth skin, higher voices. The Fin hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He just wanted to cover his whole body so no one could see him, not even Joe. He hated how he looked. He had hair in all the wrong places, too tall, too deep of a voice, and didn’t look quite right ever in all the lace and leather pants they all wore. He wanted to look like them, had since he was a teen and first started seeing people like the Swedes on TV or in magazines.
He hadn’t drank in over a day and felt ill from sobriety that was only compounded by his lack of food. He’d screamed at Joe earlier in the day when he tried to coax the drummer out for breakfast. He knew his partner was angry with him now, he’d never come back through the door. Aarne didn’t know what to do so he sat on the bed, long legs balled up and cried until he fell asleep. At least that didn’t hurt.
Hours later, possibly, he woke up still alone and the crying started again. This time as much loneliness and abandonment as his hatred of his appearance. Joe hadn’t come back and Aarne’s pained heart was convincing him more and more every minute that his Brit didn’t want him and would never come back. He’d walked out like all the other people Aarne had fallen for, only Joe took longer. It hurt more.
Aarne stood up slowly and went into the hotel bathroom to get a drink of water. Even the bathroom upset him, especially when he caught sight of himself in the full-length mirror at the far end of the large bathroom. The tears came harder this time. The drummer was so angry at the dark hair on his legs and arms, the little trail of dark hair above the waist of his shorts. Everything was wrong with what he looked like and as he stared at the reflection Aarne accepted that Joe wasn’t coming back because he was ugly.
He turned away from the mirror and sat on the edge of the counter beside the sink, head back against the wall and crying so much that he didn’t even have tears left. All that was happening was a burning sensation in his eyes and waves of exhaustion from so much upset. He was so out of it that he didn’t notice anyone else come into the hotel room.
“Peachy?”
The voice sent a thrill of happiness through Aarne before horror set in and more self-disgust. He didn’t want the Brit to look at him anymore. There were so many prettier men now. Aarne didn’t want Joe to be stuck with someone as ugly as he was, he deserved someone better.
Joe came into the bathroom eventually and the Fin could see that he was drunk and still looking frustrated. Aarne didn’t move.
“Come on, babe.”
Aarne glanced over at the bassist walking toward him and shook his head, but Joe didn’t listen. He let the Brit pull him into a hug, but he couldn’t do anything more than cry, or try to but he was almost too tired to cry at this point. He felt drained and empty. It was the smell of the bassist that got through when the words and touch didn’t. The mix of Jack and hairspray and cologne and the smell of Joe’s body had the Fin very slowly wrapping his arms around the Brit and burying his face into the bassist’s shirt. Aarne needed the comfort so badly.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
He felt Joe’s hands in his hair and on his bare back. During the argument Aarne hadn’t told Joe what was wrong. He’d blown up over being touched and seeing Joe with the Swedes. Aarne didn’t know why it cut deeply but that one moment shredded open many old wounds. He took a long time to get his breathing back and stop trying to cry.
“You don’t have to stay with me. I don’t want you to be with someone ugly. You deserve someone pretty and girly.” Aarne’s voice was shattered and quiet. Gone was all the loud confidence and cheer that flowed unending from the drummer.
The sound Joe made expressed the incredulous shock he didn’t voice. “You’re sexy.”
Aarne didn’t believe him and shook his head against Joe’s chest. “I’m not feminine enough and….” He didn’t even know how to finish the sentence. “I looked in the mirror and know I’m not girly enough. Not for you or anyone else.”
“You’re my girl.”
The moment Joe whispered it into his hair Aarne burst into more tears, eyes burning and causing the drummer to rub at his eyes. He shouldn’t be anyone’s girl. He was just an ugly boy compared to all the others that were there now. The tug on his arm had his gaze turn up from Joe’s chest bleary, red eyed and filled with devastating pain. Another pull and Aarne slid off the sink to stand up.
“Turn around, Peachy.”
Aarne turned, partially because of Joe’s hands on his hips. He was facing the mirror again and immediately glanced around for anything to look at that wasn’t his reflection. The warm, wet of Joe’s lips on the back of his shoulder pulled his attention behind himself and away from the mirror. He could feel the Brit’s hands caressing his stomach and the front of his thighs. Aarne wanted to shove them away, but the touch also caused his heart to pound.
“Look at my sexy Fin.”
Aarne glanced from Joe’s face to the mirror. All he could do was stare at the Brit’s hands on his body. He watched them closely, felt them, and the stray kisses on his shoulder and bicep. Aarne wanted to argue about being sexy and crossed his arms awkwardly to try and hide his body somehow. He felt Joe pull off his little shorts and stared at his naked body in the mirror.
“Long legs.” Aarne watched Joe’s hands on his body while the Brit spoke. “Perfect peachy ass.” The drummer couldn’t place whether he felt disgusted or turned on by the touch and the way Joe drunkenly, nearly purred the words. “Cute belly, sexy fucking hair.”
Aarne felt a bit of a smile try to appear with the tug on his hair and the way Joe’s fingers played through it. His arms finally loosened where they were wrapped around his own body. Joe was very slowly getting through all the trauma and heartache Aarne had been wrestling with all day.
“Look at that hot, crazy Fin I love.” This time when Joe kissed the back of Aarne’s neck the Fin gasped. Even in shambles Joe’s touch felt amazing. It felt like love even when Aarne couldn’t believe he was anything worth loving.
“You’re my girly, sexy Fin, honey.” Joe’s words whispered so close to his neck had the Fin staring at his reflection and the arms wrapped around his slim waist. Relaxation came and then arousal as Aarne continued to watch the Brit touch his body, touch every inch of it in the reflection.
“We should fuck right here.” Joe peeked around from behind, grin as mischievous as a caught schoolboy in the reflection. “I want you to see you’re perfect, you sexy Fin.”
Aarne ignored the reflection for a moment to stare at Joe beside him, one hand on the drummer’s backside and the other on his thigh. Joe’s smile widened only seconds before he crushed their lips together. Joe’s gaze after the kiss pulled the Fin’s back to the mirror.
“You should watch us.”
Aarne did watch in the reflection as the Brit kissed along his arms and shoulders. The smile trying to appear again when he saw Joe’s shirt fall to the floor even if he couldn’t see the Brit behind him. More touching and the skin-to-skin contact felt like devotion, more than love even. Aarne couldn’t ignore the flood of emotions that touch invoked. Joe had come back. Joe wanted to touch him and thought he was a girl. These things mattered to the Fin.
Slowly, Aarne turned around and wrapped his arms around the Brit’s neck to pull him into a kiss. Their lips lingered for a long time, sapping away the depression. Eventually Aarne spoke and smiled.
“Do you still want me to watch?” Aarne wasn’t sure he wanted to give up being wrapped up in Joe’s arms right now.
“Babe, I want you to see how hot and sexy we are together.” Joe pressed their bodies closer and finally, Aarne giggled from the nuzzling Brit. “Turn around and watch my hot, sexy Fin.”
Aarne heard Joe’s pants slip to the tiles and kept his gaze on the mirror. He wanted to try and see himself the way Joe did when they were tangled together in pleasure. Aarne was desperate for anything that burned away his insecurities but even more so for the love and affection in the Brit’s touch.
