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| Open Up; Remix of Trinny's Come Clean, done from Lars' POV | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: September 21, 2011, 4:50 am (611 Views) | |
| Aria | September 21, 2011, 4:50 am Post #1 |
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Blackened
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Sooooooo....I completely forgot to put something up here! This is a remix to Trinny's 'Come Clean', a fic I fell totally and completely in love with. <3 My first ever remix! Hope you enjoy! _____________________________________________________ Beep. Beep. He didn’t have to answer it. Beep. Beep. Lars sighed. Dammit.. He shifted in his seat, tugging the phone out of his pocket. The name on the screen said: “James.” His fingers tightened around the phone. It was obvious what James was going to say. Hurry the fuck up and get back to the room. Fuck off. He dropped the phone on the counter. In front of him, the martini sat, untouched. Fuck. It was only a text. He didn’t have to respond. If James gave him attitude… He pressed the screen. Where are you? The words glared at him. If he didn’t answer, James would call him. And if he didn’t answer then, James would call Kirk. Then Kirk would tell James he went back to the hotel. And James would come downstairs and see him through the giant glass doors that led to the locked bar. He picked up his phone, taping out two words and sending it off. Probably gonna ask me which one. Beep. He tapped the screen again. And: Which one? Lars snorted. Tapped out a one word response and sent it off. It was only a matter of time before James came downstairs in his righteous You-Shouldn’t-Be-Drinking fury to try and drag his ass out of here. The drink looked appetizing finally. He should drink all of it, right now. The chance of being drunk by the time James got down here was slim to nil, but it didn’t matter. James would smell the alcohol on his breath, and he’d at least have a buzz on, maybe. His hand didn’t move. His head was pounding. He shifted and placed his elbows on the counter, hunching over his drink. The cherry red liquid almost looked like candy in a glass. Fuck. James didn’t respond to his last text. That meant he was coming. Him and his holier attitude… He caught his reflection on the countertop and saw how shitty he looked. Tired, old, burnt out. Nothing new. They all said it. Over and over again. James looked great. Fantastic. Amazing. And behind their fucking hands they talked about him. How he looked old. How he was gaining weight. Losing his hair. Getting drunk was the easiest answer to his problems, and all he had was one glass of wine post-show. He should’ve had more, should’ve indulged in the burn of alcohol, but he didn’t. Why did James have to come get him like he was some fucking kid? Why couldn’t he wait in the room? The knock on the door sounded like a gunshot in the bar. Fuck. Too late. And there was James, coming to drag drunk Lars home from the bar. Right. The guard and James exchanged words. He was too far away to hear them, but he could imagine what James said. ‘Let me in, I’m here to drag my drunk ass bandmate up to our room.’ The voices stopped. Footsteps came closer. Behind his head, he felt James’ stare. Feel the worry coming off James in waves. Lars suppressed the growl that wanted to escape. He didn’t need James worrying about him. It was all he had been doing today. At the M&G, before the show, after the show. He had brushed James off with a kiss, but James hadn’t believed him. Why hadn’t James fucking believed him? Now James was walking closer. He kept his attention on his drink. The drink he still hadn’t taken a sip of. Fuck. He didn’t look up, even when James sat at the bar next to him. He was being assessed. Accused. Fucking judged. Pitied. James’ fingers twined together on the countertop. He caught a glimpse of them. Big hands. Warm hands. “So.” James leaned closer to him, pressing against his arm. Heat coaxed him to lean in. Why did you have to come down here? Couldn’t you have left me fucking alone? “You gonna drink that anytime soon?” Fuck off. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue. Fuck off James. Leave me alone. Go away. Just go the fuck away. He shrugged. James moved closer. Now they were touching, from shoulder to wrist. James was so warm he almost felt like he was burning. “Lars.” He didn’t answer. Didn’t want to fucking answer. Fuck James for coming down here worried like some overbearing parent. Those hands slowly unclasped. One of them enfolded his. “Lars?” “Mm?” The sound escaped him against his will. “Hi.” What was James playing at? “Hi.” Two could play that fucking game. Was James trying to sweet talk him into bed? Hoping that he wouldn’t make a scene? Fuck that. He’d make a fucking scene if he wanted to. Not like there was anyone here to see. “What’s-” James cleared his throat. “What’re you drinking?” Fuck you. Fuck off. “Cherry martini.” Just ask what the fuck was wrong so you could get angry and stomp off. “It looks good.” Lars felt James lean in closer. His stomach tightened when he felt James’ breath against his cheek. Warm. James was so fucking warm. His stomach curled in over itself. “Too bad I don’t drink anymore, huh?” He shrugged again. Tugged his hand away. He couldn’t take it. Could not take how warm James was, how gentle and caring he was acting. Just start the fucking fight James. “What’s wrong?” There it fucking was. Time for the lecture. You shouldn’t be drinking. You’re too old to go out and party all night. His lips twitched, a sneer trying to escape. “Lars.” “What?” “What’s going on?” “You tell me. You’re the one who came here.” “I wanted to know where you were.” “And I told you.” Can’t we do anything in fucking private? He turned to James, finally looking him in the eye. “So now what? You gonna drag me outta here?” Or lecture me? “No-” “Good.” His voice sounded like a growl. “Go back to bed. I can take care of myself.” Now the fight would start. James would snap back at him. He’d bite back. They’d hurl insults that they didn’t mean. James would look at him with those hurt blue eyes before leaving him to his fucking mood and his drinking. And they would go on tomorrow, pretending the fight never happened. As fucking usual. He felt James stand up. His focus stayed on the martini. Here we go— His pulse jumped as James touched his lower back. Heat seeped through his t-shirt. James. “Okay.” His eyes fluttered when James kissed his cheek. “I can wait.” The fingers moved down his shirt, drawing a path of heat. The urge to lean in was overpowering. “I’ll see you later.” And James pulled away. Lars flinched, his hand twitching, curling around his martini glass. He heard James leave the bar, heard him say thanks to the guard and leave. James was gone. His stomach turned. Come back... James wasn’t knocking sense into him. He didn’t yell at him. Didn’t lecture him or demand him to come up and go to sleep. Didn’t even make a dry joke as usual, maybe something like beauty sleep or whatever the fuck. He just… left. James left. Lars hopped off the stool. He spun around and walked out of the bar. James was waiting by the elevators, rocking back and forth on his heels. The doors were opening. The door to the bar was heavy and cold. James was in the elevator. Lars pushed the bar door open. Run! He ran past surprised faces. The security guard who raised an eyebrow, the receptionist who gave him a dirty look. He didn’t care. He had to make it to James. The elevator doors were closing. James. He reached out. His hand slipped between the doors in time, the last minute intrusion making them open wide again. He took a deep breath. Made it. Lars stepped into the elevator, stood across from James. And he realized full force what James really looked like. No socks with his shoes. Hands in the pockets of his jacket. Tousled hair. James was a mess. A lovable, sweet mess. His mess. The doors closed behind him, the elevator grunting as it started to move. His heart slowed, blood pounding in his ears. It couldn’t be too late. James... “Lars?” His mouth felt like he had been drinking all night. “I’m sorry.” James smiled at him. Then he opened his arms. All it took was that smile to give him the courage to step forward. His arms shook when they wrapped around James’ waist,. His eyes closed as he rested his cheek against James. And James hugged him closer, so he was enveloped in James’ warmth. James led him to bed. Kept him close while they walked to the room, an arm around his waist. They didn’t need to say anything. He changed his clothes, smiling as James took his jacket and shoes off. Watched James push wrappers off the bed, like a kid. He could get mad at James for those tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't. He could pretend he didn't see them. James lifted an arm and Lars just stared at him before climbing in and pressing close to him. Their lips met and he molded to James’ side, finally warm. Finally okay. Edited by Aria, September 21, 2011, 5:50 am.
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| Isis | September 21, 2011, 8:14 am Post #2 |
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TEA + CUDDLES
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Hee. You know what I think but I'll say it again: I'm very flattered you chose my fic to remix and you did a great job with Lars in this.
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| ElisabethOrion | September 21, 2011, 10:34 am Post #3 |
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I'm creatively constipated.
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I love it! Both are great! It's a nice feel to read from both POV's. Good job girlies.
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| Jik Hyun | September 21, 2011, 2:06 pm Post #4 |
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Poor Twisted Me
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awww nice fics from both sides. |
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| Lars Mi Amor | September 21, 2011, 5:57 pm Post #5 |
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Lars the Great
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Loooooovvvveeeee eet
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4:47 AM Jul 11