All Up in Lights
Apr. 14th, 2021 12:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
suomi_thunder[Trigger Warning: Violence and LGBT+ harassment/targeting/violence]
The boys had never had really close friends growing up and they instantly latched on to each other. At 17 and 18, Rik and Aarne were still kids in a lot of ways compared to thier older band mates in thier twenties. Then they found out they could drink.
A couple beers into the night and the two walked giggling to the bathroom in the bar. Though they'd both endured abuse growing up, the change of scenery, of being on stage those first few times, had put it all behind them in a way that blinded them.
Aarne stepped to the mirror to fix his make up and his hands unsteady from drinking twice what Rik had. Laughing, the Dane came up to help him. Sure, his hand was steadier but he had no clue about make up. With both of them laughing it was probably making it worse.
"Stay still!" Rik was laughing as Aarne rolled his eyes at the Dane obviously swaying. The guitar on his back swishing with the drunken laughter.
"Do you ever put this down?" Aarne laughed but he knew why he had it. Rik had ran away from home with only what was on his back. Aarne felt bad for his bandmate.
Then there were people coming in and lewd comments about Aarne and fucking her. Rik glanced at Aarne before he turned away to face the three men who came in. When he saw the way they were looking at the Fin, they both knew what was going on. They thought Aarne was Rik's girl and they were coming in here to have sex, something these men were going to take for themselves. Rik felt sick and faint when he saw they had knives.
The pause in the jeering was deafening before one if them exclaimed "This bitch is a dude. We got ourselves some queers."
Aarne glanced down at himself and then went with instinct and got ready to scrap with them. He'd had it out enough back home. Rik was having trouble keeping up with the blur as Aarne pushed him back and the knives started to move. It had only been a second, an eternity of a second when the Fin stumbled back. Rik caught him and his hand came red onto the sleeve of Rik's white shirt.
The desire to retch took Rik and he coughed when he saw the slice clear through Aarne's pants at the hip. They were jeering again about killing some queers when Aarne slid down to the ground. Rik needed to fight. He knew he had to or they would both die. There wasn't anything to fight with and in the panic he pulled his guitar off his back.
The first guy came at him and cut his forearm. The Dane pulled back, cornered and when he came in with the knife again, Rik brought the guitar into the attacker's face. Strings twanged as they broke from twisting. It dropped him like he'd gone boneless and he slumped limp to the tiles.
Rik glanced down at Aarne with his hand pressed to his hip, blood oozing between the fingers. He was afraid they weren't going to make it. His own arm was now bleeding and the Dane felt woozy from the bleeding. Then the door was opening again. Rik fully panicked when his mind imagined more people coming to attack them.
Vars had come to check on the two younger men, kids really as far as the punk was concerned. Hunter was busy with someone or another and while Vars didn't know the guitarist or drummer well yet they were his bandmates and that automatically made them friends.
As he swung the door open to the bathroom, directed there by the bartender who clearly remembered the other two. How could anyone miss them? His eyes took in the scene quickly, first the blood in the white tiles of the floor. Then the Dane holding the guitar by the neck like a bat. At his feet the drummer was sliding back against the wall and it left a smudge of blood. The two between him and his bandmates and one on the floor. Vars couldn't help but laugh as he put together the blood on the white guitar. The Dane had clocked them.
Then reality set in and Vars went from a well mannered laugh to furious. He grabbed the guy closest to him by the shirt and belt, throwing him into the wall like it was nothing. Rik screamed in terror. His past trauma and the current trauma frightening. Then he saw the white hair and stocky leather clad man. Vars had a knife out now, a switchblade, and was turning on the attackers.
Rik slung the guitar over his shoulder and dropped down beside Aarne who was pale and shaking. Rik pressed his hand over Aarne's so hard that it caused the Fin to gasp and hiss out a breath. He didn't know what to do.
"Give me your scarf." The voice was demanding and made the Dane near jump out if his skin. Vars was already pulling it off his neck. "We need out of here."
Years of punk fights gave Vars the know how to wrap the knife wound with the scarf and his own belt. "Bloodied?"
"Uh..." Rik swallowed hard and glanced at the door before he remembered the pain. He stared at the blood running out of his forearm. Vars said nothing and just pressed Rik's hand over the slice on the Dane's other arm.
"Up." Vars pushed at the Dane and then picked up the drummer who was in a lot of pain. The cut deep and needed stitches. They were going to have to call an ambulance and deal with the police. Vars would call Hunter too. The band leader was going to be crazy when he got to the bar just down the road from thier hotel.
The boys had never had really close friends growing up and they instantly latched on to each other. At 17 and 18, Rik and Aarne were still kids in a lot of ways compared to thier older band mates in thier twenties. Then they found out they could drink.
A couple beers into the night and the two walked giggling to the bathroom in the bar. Though they'd both endured abuse growing up, the change of scenery, of being on stage those first few times, had put it all behind them in a way that blinded them.
Aarne stepped to the mirror to fix his make up and his hands unsteady from drinking twice what Rik had. Laughing, the Dane came up to help him. Sure, his hand was steadier but he had no clue about make up. With both of them laughing it was probably making it worse.
"Stay still!" Rik was laughing as Aarne rolled his eyes at the Dane obviously swaying. The guitar on his back swishing with the drunken laughter.
"Do you ever put this down?" Aarne laughed but he knew why he had it. Rik had ran away from home with only what was on his back. Aarne felt bad for his bandmate.
Then there were people coming in and lewd comments about Aarne and fucking her. Rik glanced at Aarne before he turned away to face the three men who came in. When he saw the way they were looking at the Fin, they both knew what was going on. They thought Aarne was Rik's girl and they were coming in here to have sex, something these men were going to take for themselves. Rik felt sick and faint when he saw they had knives.
The pause in the jeering was deafening before one if them exclaimed "This bitch is a dude. We got ourselves some queers."
Aarne glanced down at himself and then went with instinct and got ready to scrap with them. He'd had it out enough back home. Rik was having trouble keeping up with the blur as Aarne pushed him back and the knives started to move. It had only been a second, an eternity of a second when the Fin stumbled back. Rik caught him and his hand came red onto the sleeve of Rik's white shirt.
The desire to retch took Rik and he coughed when he saw the slice clear through Aarne's pants at the hip. They were jeering again about killing some queers when Aarne slid down to the ground. Rik needed to fight. He knew he had to or they would both die. There wasn't anything to fight with and in the panic he pulled his guitar off his back.
The first guy came at him and cut his forearm. The Dane pulled back, cornered and when he came in with the knife again, Rik brought the guitar into the attacker's face. Strings twanged as they broke from twisting. It dropped him like he'd gone boneless and he slumped limp to the tiles.
Rik glanced down at Aarne with his hand pressed to his hip, blood oozing between the fingers. He was afraid they weren't going to make it. His own arm was now bleeding and the Dane felt woozy from the bleeding. Then the door was opening again. Rik fully panicked when his mind imagined more people coming to attack them.
Vars had come to check on the two younger men, kids really as far as the punk was concerned. Hunter was busy with someone or another and while Vars didn't know the guitarist or drummer well yet they were his bandmates and that automatically made them friends.
As he swung the door open to the bathroom, directed there by the bartender who clearly remembered the other two. How could anyone miss them? His eyes took in the scene quickly, first the blood in the white tiles of the floor. Then the Dane holding the guitar by the neck like a bat. At his feet the drummer was sliding back against the wall and it left a smudge of blood. The two between him and his bandmates and one on the floor. Vars couldn't help but laugh as he put together the blood on the white guitar. The Dane had clocked them.
Then reality set in and Vars went from a well mannered laugh to furious. He grabbed the guy closest to him by the shirt and belt, throwing him into the wall like it was nothing. Rik screamed in terror. His past trauma and the current trauma frightening. Then he saw the white hair and stocky leather clad man. Vars had a knife out now, a switchblade, and was turning on the attackers.
Rik slung the guitar over his shoulder and dropped down beside Aarne who was pale and shaking. Rik pressed his hand over Aarne's so hard that it caused the Fin to gasp and hiss out a breath. He didn't know what to do.
"Give me your scarf." The voice was demanding and made the Dane near jump out if his skin. Vars was already pulling it off his neck. "We need out of here."
Years of punk fights gave Vars the know how to wrap the knife wound with the scarf and his own belt. "Bloodied?"
"Uh..." Rik swallowed hard and glanced at the door before he remembered the pain. He stared at the blood running out of his forearm. Vars said nothing and just pressed Rik's hand over the slice on the Dane's other arm.
"Up." Vars pushed at the Dane and then picked up the drummer who was in a lot of pain. The cut deep and needed stitches. They were going to have to call an ambulance and deal with the police. Vars would call Hunter too. The band leader was going to be crazy when he got to the bar just down the road from thier hotel.