Lyrics
I am now cheerfully burnt all along my arms, cheeks, and legs from yesterday. Laura spent most of the time sun tanning while Ligia, Maria, and I talked and played in the surf. It was surprisingly empty at the beach, though, granted, we went on a Thursday in May so the tourists aren't totally flocking to the beach yet.
We really are an odd group, though. Maria is Greek, second generation, and she's painfully tiny and thin due to an extremely high metabolism. Ligia is second generation El Salvadorean, the smartest in the group, and heavy set. Laura is athletic, outspoken, and hates languages, though we did spend years together in German classes. She and Maria are best friends and Ligia's my best friend but not the talk to each other day type, we have that connection where we can see each other once a year and hang out like we do it every day. They function as a three but we work as a four, too. Maria and I have known each other since elementary school, and apparently Laura and I were on a soccer team together. I don't remember.
We ended up up to our shins in salt water talking about religion. Maria is Eastern Orthodox, Ligia grew up atheist but her parents have switched between Methodism and Judaism, Laura is non-denominational, and I grew up Methodist but have experimented with Wicca, Judaism, Islam, and am well-read in most major religions. We went back out around eleven to a hookah bar and that was amusing. I don't smoke and Maria was convinced she could make me. Laura was ragging on my hair because I'd made fun of her bush peeking through her bikini and we had a blast, though the place overcharged us which was a complete bitch because I had to pay even though I didn't smoke any of the hookah, and they added some bullshit about apple juice in the hookah and extra drinks. But I got to spend six hours with Laura and I was more than happy looking and not touching...
I've been listening to Linke's stuff and I'm not sure if I really like his voice. It's a little flat for my taste but I can't sing to save my life (Kurt told me I should go on American Idol because I would win if it were No Singing Idol- I love that the eight-year-old is fluent in sarcasm) so I can't talk. But it really does sound flat to me, not as bad as Franky live, but still not phenomenal. Has anyone else noticed that? That Franky sounds terrible live? He sounds great in the studio but his stuff with Martin Kilger is bad live, too, and I'm really wondering who figured he could sing because his voice is obviously manipulated. Let me stop cause I'm getting bitchy about a subject I know nothing about.
It was such an obvious set up that Linke didn't believe anything would come of it.
A 20 in 09 fic. Prompt: Lyrics.
Linke didn’t know how Timo had done it but the rapper had convinced Jan to put on his old ninja costume for the evening and Linke couldn’t help noticing how expressive Jan’s sharp blue eyes were under all that black.
He took a drag from the hookah, not really caring for the cherry tang of the particular brand they had paid for, and handed the pipe to Juri who handed it right over to Franky without bothering to even try it. Linke grinned and laid his arm along the back of the booth. He wasn’t actually touching Jan, just the space behind him, but when the tiny DJ looked at him, Linke felt a blush creep over his cheeks. He hoped the swirling multi-colored disco lights of the club would cover the sudden coloration.
Jan sighed softly and leaned back, his head tilting upwards and his eyes closing lazily. Linke watched him, noticing the long line of Jan’s neck and the curve of his throat. Jan’s eyes opened and Linke looked away quickly, pretending to be engrossed in the Turkish music videos playing on the television across the room.
He listened to Jan singing quietly along with the hip hop song pounding through the room and smiled, relaxing in the soft haze of hookah smoke. Linke was enjoying himself just watching Jan and Franky, both of whom were bouncing in their seats to the heavy beat of the music. He could stay this way all night, lazing back and doing nothing, none of them really even talking so much as watching each other. It was nice, calm.
Linke heard Juri snort as Franky grabbed his wrist and dragged him out to the dance floor, the two disappearing together in the thick smoke enveloping the club. Linke frowned, wondering about the possibility of anything happening between the two of them. He knew Franky was boy-crazy but Juri was, in Linke’s opinion, much more girl-focused and his type had never been anything close to whatever Franky was.
“Hey, Linke,” Jan said quietly.
Linke, too lost in his thoughts to notice, did not hear him. Jan laughed and put a hand on Linke’s upper leg. That got his attention, Linke sitting up too quickly and nearly upsetting the whole table with his knee-jerk reaction.
“Holy hell, what?!” Linke snapped shrilly, his heart rate having suddenly jumped more than a few thousand beats a second.
Jan giggled madly, not that Linke could see it, what with the DJ’s black mask covering most of his face but Linke surely did enjoy the look in those blue eyes that accompanied the happy sound. Linke grabbed his cup and took a sip of his soda, watching Jan out of the corner of his eyes as he tried to regain some sense of control over his far too interested body. Damnit but that mask let loose way too many kinky thoughts in Linke’s head. He would be lucky if he didn’t go crazy just sitting next to Jan and now the DJ was touching him? Linke cursed Timo and David, too, since the guitarist was probably behind this whole set up. It was not cool to set up two of your best friends without their permission, not cool at all.
“I like this song,” Jan said. “And I thought you’d maybe, um, want to dance.”
Linke choked on his drink and nearly spit his mouthful back into his cup. He wheezed and slapped the table, hoping Jan hadn’t noticed how badly he was blundering fucking everything tonight.
“Now?” Linke rasped out when he could breathe again.
Jan closed his eyes and shook with laughter.
“Yes, now. Get up.”
“Ah, we’re being demanding now, are we?” Linke retorted, though he let Jan lead him away from the booth. Jan tugged on Linke’s shirt sleeve and grinned.
Jan was a very good dancer and Linke used his friend’s skills to cover his own pathetic efforts. He stood there, rocking slowly and rolling his hips, paying far too much attention to the way that Jan was moving closer and closer with every beat of the music. He could hear Jan’s slight lisp coming through as Jan sang the lyrics word for word to a song Linke had never heard before. Linke loved that lisp. Jan had had it as long as Linke had known him and for all that the DJ tried to hide it, it came out when he was relaxed or particularly excited about something, a fact that amused Linke to no end in that the emotions were polar opposites and yet garnered the same reaction: a reversal to an old habit.
That was about when Linke told his higher brain to shut off. He really should not be thinking so much when he had Jan fucking grinding against him and pretty much rubbing his ass over Linke’s cock, a bit of his anatomy which really, really needed to have an off button for situations like these. He would never live it down if Jan was just playing along and he, Linke, got a hard on. Oh, Jan would hang it over his head for weeks and that would be a cruel torture. Unfortunately, little Linke had no such off button and, if Jan didn’t stop moving like that, Linke was going to have a definite problem.
“Uh, Jan,” Linke said, grabbing Jan’s shoulder to stop him and get his attention. “I don’t really feel like dancing anymore. You mind if I sit this one out?”
Jan frowned for a second, then nodded.
“Sure, we can stop for a while.”
That was not what Linke had meant and he mentally groaned as he followed Jan back to the booth. If Jan had simply found someone else to dance with, Linke could have made off to one of the restrooms and solved his problem right then and there or he could have even just sat down somewhere dark and done the same. Now, though, he was hard for Jan and accompanied by Jan and going to sit with Jan, and he was earnestly thinking of some excuse to get away from the DJ before Jan noticed the peculiar tent at the front of Linke’s pants.
Jan shifted closer to Linke seconds after they sat down, too soon for even the most befuddled of minds to think it was a coincidence. Linke looked at his friend, wishing he could read Jan’s mind and find out what the little DJ was thinking. Jan had never hinted that he might be interested in Linke, Linke was sure of it. No odd looks, no too close touches…
Jan’s mask was coming off, Linke realized far too late. Jan was leaning forward, balancing on his knees as he leaned forward, winding the last of the long black cloth from around his face, letting it hang loosely around his neck.
“Oh, fuck,” Linke said as soft lips brushed against his neck, a shy tongue flicking out to trace over his tattoo tentatively. Jan’s left hand dug into Linke’s black hair and Jan braced himself against Linke’s chest, almost in Linke’s lap but not. Jan rubbed his nose against Linke’s chin, making the bassist’s breathing hitch, before he ventured higher up to Linke’s lips. Jan pressed a soft kiss to Linke’s chin.
“Chris?” Jan whispered, his voice endearingly nervous. “Chris, do you…? I mean, are you okay with…this?”
Linke looked at his friend and saw fear and anxiety in Jan’s wide eyes. Linke’s automatic reaction, that he would do anything to take that fear away, that he would do anything to make Jan feel happy and safe, decided it. He stroked his fingers down the side of Jan’s face, running them over Jan’s nose and his lips. Linke pressed Jan’s bottom lip down with his thumb. Jan smiled shyly.
Linke grinned and leaned forward, replacing his thumb with his lips. He tugged Jan into his lap, forgetting his hard erection for the moment as he settled his hands on Jan’s narrow hips. Linke tilted his chin up, letting Jan control the kiss. Jan deepened their embrace slowly. Linke would not rush him. He was not about to scare Jan by moving too quickly. He had wanted Jan for so long that tonight could crash and burn with Linke getting a terrible five minutes of mouth to mouth with Jan and he would still be happy so long as Jan was happy.
He was not expecting Jan to grind down on him and roll his hips skillfully, as though he had done this before or at least practiced it. Linke felt a flare of jealousy at the thought of Jan with someone else but he suppressed it when Jan smiled timidly, the expression on his sweet face an intense contrast to the way he was moving in Linke’s lap.
“Too much?” Jan asked, his hands on Linke’s shoulders as he stopped to look at his friend.
“No,” Linke murmured huskily, catching Jan’s lips in a slow, deep kiss. He sucked on Jan’s tongue, making Jan wriggle deliciously while he tangled one hand in Linke’s hair, the other moving up Linke’s chest, their breathing harsh and heavy as Jan turned the heat up gradually. Linke acquiesced, letting Jan push him down into the booth’s cushioned seat.
Jan was gentle, blending his natural shyness with a solid determination as he moved down Linke’s neck. Linke wondered where Jan was going, what the DJ was expecting of him. He was quickly losing all of his presumptions about the smaller man and it was starting to unnerve Linke. He was not used to being wrong about people and Jan could be disturbingly unpredictable at the oddest of times.
An amused giggle had Linke sitting up and wrapping Jan in his arms to hide him from whoever had approached the table. If it was a fan with a camera, Linke was prepared to lambast the idiot with caustic words. Hell, he’d throw the goddamn hookah at the girl before he’d let someone ruin Jan’s life with a damning photograph.
Someone cleared his throat and Linke recognized Juri’s distinctive voice. Linke blew out a tense breath and stroked Jan’s hair, kissing his forehead before letting Jan go. He figured Juri would not tease them too badly, not after he had spent an hour dancing with Franky.
When Linke actually bothered to look at the drummer, his jaw dropped. Juri had one arm around Franky’s waist, the singer snuggled into his side. Both of them were marked with purplish-blue love bites and Franky was nuzzling Juri’s neck shamelessly. Juri’s lips were quirked, though whether that was because of Linke and Jan or Franky’s attention, Linke did not want to know.
“I’m going to take the van back around three,” Juri said, looking directly at Jan.
Jan grinned.
“Got it,” he said.
Jan clambered out of the booth and crooked his finger at Linke, who followed in confusion. Jan led him on a twisted, winding path through the dance floor to a darkened alcove. Linke frowned but then Jan balled Linke’s shirt in his fist and jerked. Linke practically fell against him. Jan giggled and cupped Linke’s cheek. He tugged Linke down and wrapped an arm around Linke’s neck, kissing the bassist breathless.
“What…?” Linke gasped.
“We’re leaving at three,” Jan said, kissing Linke. “That gives us an hour. I say we spend it without our bandmates.”
Linke cocked an eyebrow.
“I think I like that idea.”
“I knew you would,” Jan laughed.