Farinflüsterer
A fic inspired by a song! What surprise, what novelty!
But yes. I just discovered Frauenflüsterer, last year's Christmas download from FU.de, and then I read some emo-ish fic, and then I started writing. Have fun.
Farinflüsterer
Pairing: B/F implied
Rating: PG for swearing
Length: 481 words
Summary: Farin doesn't understand women. Bela doesn't understand Farin. Angst ensues.
‘You know, I don’t get women,’ Farin complained as he flopped down on Bela’s sofa. ‘They never say what they mean. Yes means no, no means yes, but only sometimes, and at other times it means something entirely different! How are we supposed to know what they’re talking about?’
With a sigh, he drew his feet up under him and stared darkly at Bela, who frankly looked interested only in the bottle of beer in his hand. ‘And when you say something, they interpret god knows what into it, and when you don’t say anything, it’s even worse! I don’t even know how I survived touring with a whole herd of them! I wish I drank.’ The blond sighed deeply and rubbed a hand through the short hair on the back of his head.
‘You know, sometimes I envy Rod and you. You drink, you smoke, and… you know. For you guys, women just don’t matter. I wish I was gay and immoral, too. Lucky you.’
Bela just grimaced at the annoyed guitarist with little pity. ‘Yeah, lucky fucking me. You know I have a solution to all your problems, and mine, believe it or not I have any.’
Farin grunted noncommittally.
‘And still,’ Bela continued, ‘you keep going out with women you don’t get and after a fruitless dinner, you come here to pout and bitch about how the world is horrible. How you just want someone who says what they mean and when they don’t, it’s detectable sarcasm. How you’re sick of dating and seeing how everyone else around you is in a stable relationship while you’re alone.’ His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew harsh, and gained in volume.
‘You know what, Farin, I’m sick too. I’m sick of having to see your futile attempts at romance all the time, I’m sick of your lovesickness and pointless advances and I’m sick of you pretending you don’t want me as much as I want you. You want someone you understand? You want someone who doesn’t leave you just because you decide to disappear off the face of the earth for a couple of months?’ he spread his arms, helplessly.
‘Here I am, like I’ve been for most of the last quarter century, and still you decide to pair off with some meaningless starfuckers! Stop whining and change something if you’re so unhappy, for fuck’s sake!’
Fuming, Bela grabbed the remote and turned to face the TV. ‘You’re infuriating. Damn, Farin, get over yourself and your fucking denial.’ he said, voice suddenly toneless as he cranked the volume up to the highest level and tried to find something remotely interesting. ‘Now get the fuck out of my house.’
He pretended not to see Farin’s struck expression as he achingly got up, almost in slow-motion, and left quietly.
He also pretended the tears in his own eyes were those of anger.
But yes. I just discovered Frauenflüsterer, last year's Christmas download from FU.de, and then I read some emo-ish fic, and then I started writing. Have fun.
Farinflüsterer
Pairing: B/F implied
Rating: PG for swearing
Length: 481 words
Summary: Farin doesn't understand women. Bela doesn't understand Farin. Angst ensues.
‘You know, I don’t get women,’ Farin complained as he flopped down on Bela’s sofa. ‘They never say what they mean. Yes means no, no means yes, but only sometimes, and at other times it means something entirely different! How are we supposed to know what they’re talking about?’
With a sigh, he drew his feet up under him and stared darkly at Bela, who frankly looked interested only in the bottle of beer in his hand. ‘And when you say something, they interpret god knows what into it, and when you don’t say anything, it’s even worse! I don’t even know how I survived touring with a whole herd of them! I wish I drank.’ The blond sighed deeply and rubbed a hand through the short hair on the back of his head.
‘You know, sometimes I envy Rod and you. You drink, you smoke, and… you know. For you guys, women just don’t matter. I wish I was gay and immoral, too. Lucky you.’
Bela just grimaced at the annoyed guitarist with little pity. ‘Yeah, lucky fucking me. You know I have a solution to all your problems, and mine, believe it or not I have any.’
Farin grunted noncommittally.
‘And still,’ Bela continued, ‘you keep going out with women you don’t get and after a fruitless dinner, you come here to pout and bitch about how the world is horrible. How you just want someone who says what they mean and when they don’t, it’s detectable sarcasm. How you’re sick of dating and seeing how everyone else around you is in a stable relationship while you’re alone.’ His eyes narrowed, and his voice grew harsh, and gained in volume.
‘You know what, Farin, I’m sick too. I’m sick of having to see your futile attempts at romance all the time, I’m sick of your lovesickness and pointless advances and I’m sick of you pretending you don’t want me as much as I want you. You want someone you understand? You want someone who doesn’t leave you just because you decide to disappear off the face of the earth for a couple of months?’ he spread his arms, helplessly.
‘Here I am, like I’ve been for most of the last quarter century, and still you decide to pair off with some meaningless starfuckers! Stop whining and change something if you’re so unhappy, for fuck’s sake!’
Fuming, Bela grabbed the remote and turned to face the TV. ‘You’re infuriating. Damn, Farin, get over yourself and your fucking denial.’ he said, voice suddenly toneless as he cranked the volume up to the highest level and tried to find something remotely interesting. ‘Now get the fuck out of my house.’
He pretended not to see Farin’s struck expression as he achingly got up, almost in slow-motion, and left quietly.
He also pretended the tears in his own eyes were those of anger.