A Case of Mistaken Identity 1/1 (Bon Jovi, Helloween)
Title: A Case of Mistaken Identity
Genre: Gen, some Slash
Bands: Bon Jovi, Helloween
Main Characters: David Bryan, Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, Tico Torres, Andi Deris, Dani Loeble, Markus Großkopf, Michael Weikath, Sascha Gerstner
Adult Content: No
Words: 1700
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: A little mix-up after a night of drinking.
Teaser: The Germans were muttering in German. David preferred English, but no one had asked him.
Sunday
It was a pretty simple mistake, really. Anyone could've done it - or at least that's what David told himself as he faced a group of none-too-pleased German musicians at fuck o'clock Sunday morning.
---
At the same time, Markus was under attack from a short man with fluffy hair who kept poking him in the chest (and stomach, when he didn't quite reach high enough), being glared at by an even shorter man with black hair and silently sympathized with by someone who looked about as hung over as Markus felt.
---
The Germans were muttering in German. David preferred English, but no one had asked him. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, but he was (perhaps irrationally) worried the frustrated-looking one would sic the big (cute!) one on him if he moved to go find a drink or an aspirin.
---
Fluffy Poke-a-lot finally gave up on getting anything through Markus' hangover-thickened skull and stomped back to talk with the other two. Markus was sure he knew who these people were - not that that would explain why he was on their bus, but still - but thinking wasn't an option this early. It was quite clearly a tour bus, so there was a 99% chance he'd be able to find either aspirin or more booze, but the short one looked like he might bite, so Markus waited to be addressed.
---
Four sets of eyes turned to David, and he twisted his face into what he hoped was an apologetic smile. "So," said the blonde one, "do you play bass?"
---
At the risk of having his ankles chewed through, Markus sat down on the nearest surface. The hungover guitarist was grinning at him. "Don't suppose you play keyboards, big guy," he said, and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
----------
Saturday
It had been Richie's idea to go to this bar a friend had told him about, a place that had supposedly the best drinks in the known universe. Richie always seemed to have a fried who always knew of the bar with the insert-superlative-here drinks in the insert-ludicrous-place-here, and they usually went along with it.
The place was half an hour away, and when they got there there were already some buses in the parking lot.
Within thirty seconds, Richie had found six billion hot young women who inexplicably wanted to bang him, Jon was surrounded by a pack of admirers, and Tico had vanished, because he was short and wore all black and was very easy to lose track of in dark and crowded places.
David's first stop was the bathroom, because if Tico resurfaced he needed to know whether the bathroom was private enough or they'd have to go back to the bus, and on the way he passed a table of men he assumed to be the band who belonged to the other set of buses.
He'd known there was another band in the area that night, but he couldn't for the life of him remember who. There was a man with curly hair at the table, knocking back shots like there was no tomorrow, and it struck David as kind of odd to run into another man with hair as curly as his. Rare, that.
The bathroom was suitably clean and had a handicapped stall, and David settled at the bar to wait for Tico to resurface. The bartender was cute, and persuasive, and it wasn't long before David started complaining that the floor was slanted and it was very hard to stay on his stool in such conditions.
---
Ten more shots, or Markus would owe Dani fifty bucks and he certainly didn't want that.
He didn't know what he was drinking, but it burned, and his head was swimming, and that bastard drummer was looking awfully smug. Bastard.
Mike was rolling his eyes, because that was all Mike's eyes ever did, but he was muttering to Sascha and Markus was sure he saw a handshake. Hopefully he was betting against Markus, because with six shots to go Markus knew he would win and Mike was funny when he lost.
There was a man looking at their table. He looked familiar, or maybe the alcohol thought he did, but either way Markus didn't know his name and it was only important because his hair was curly and Markus couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a man with hair that curly.
"Not giving up, are you?" Dani's eyes were glittering, he was already spending the fifty.
"Never," Markus said, and polished off the last several shots with his head spinning.
---
David was laughing at the unspeakable hilarity of a spill on the bar that kind of looked like Jon with a dick in his mouth (if you squinted. A lot) when the bartender hollered, "last call!"
His best bet was to move with the crowd - if he got packed in tightly enough he wouldn't need to stand on his own. Sweet.
It was dark outside, and crowded, and David was really drunk. After getting knocked into and pushed around by a million sweaty alcohol-soaked bodies, he nearly cried with relief when he found the bus and climbed on with only minimal stumbling.
Richie was snoring, and had managed to cram himself into the bunk in such away he looked about a foot taller, scrunched into the bunk with his feet poking out from the bottom of his blanket. Maybe he had a chick with him, and that was making his bunk look more crowded.
Or maybe David was too drunk to see straight. Either was likely.
He shrugged and climbed into his own bunk, blinking a little when he realized it felt roomier than usual.
Must be drunker than I thought, he told himself, and tugged the blanket over his head for some much-needed rest.
---
The bus seemed smaller than usual, the aisle a little narrower. Maybe Markus was just drunk and banging into things and trying to justify it.
Well, there was no "maybe" about it, he was definitely drunk.
Grumbling about suffocating Sascha in his sleep if he didn't stop snoring, Markus clambered into his bunk, wondering as he tugged the covers up what exactly it was Dani had him drinking that made the bunk seem so much smaller
----------
Sunday
David was probably having more fun than he was supposed to. He was sandwiched on a couch between a hot guitarist and a hot drummer, and had decided German was kind of a sexy language. The singer - Andi? God, he was bad with names - had given him some aspirin and water a while ago, and he felt much better. Especially when a big hand found his thigh. Maybe if I learn bass I can stay, he thought with a grin.
---
"He's not answering his goddamned phone," Jon grumbled, snapping his own phone shut like it was the culprit. Markus was quickly learning that Jon had a bit of an anger problem.
"Why do you need to call him? He's probably just on their bus," Richie pointed out.
Tico hadn't spoken. Markus still feared for his ankles.
"Well I need to know where their fucking bus is headed, dumbass."
"Jon," Richie said, in the tone of someone talking to a petulant child, "don't you think the man who was on their bus knows that?"
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Heh."
Markus sighed. At least when Andi was a ditz, it was good-natured.
---
"We are about an hour away from your bus," Michael said, as David was trying to figure out if he could explain to Tico it didn't count as cheating if it was with another drummer. Because Dani kind of looked like he wanted to eat him, and David kinda wanted to let him.
Michael rolled his eyes just like Jon. Neat. "Dani, stop fondling him. Sascha, that does not mean start."
---
Markus was getting fairly sick of being glowered at. Half an hour and he'd be home - well, on the bus, but his bus. And his bus didn't have cranky eye-rolling - well, okay, there was Mike. But it didn't have someone constantly laughing at their own bad jok - oh yeah, Sascha. But the glowering - of course, Andi could be pretty foul in the morning.
He grumbled and shifted in the tiny bunk. His bus was the right size, at least.
---
Sascha's lap was pretty comfy.
In the most platonic way, of course. David had decided against a nice rowdy fuck with the pretty men right around the time Michael growled.
Not that that had anything to do with it. Being faithful to Tico, that was the motive. Morals and all that.
German was still a fucking sexy language, though.
---
It was dusk when Helloween's bus pulled into the rest stop they'd agreed to meet at, Bon Jovi's bus having pulled in about ten minutes before. Markus was thrilled for the chance to stretch his legs and get as far away as possible from the glaring drummer.
The bus hadn't even come to a full stop when a blond blur came flying out of the bus, attached itself to Markus, and started babbling in German.
David came out, draped all over Sascha, and Markus almost laughed when he glanced over and Tico's glare looked intense enough to catch small animals on fire.
"Enjoy my bus?" David asked, as he detached himself from an extremely smug-looking Sascha and walking over to Markus.
"Not really. And I don't think I need to ask you," he replied with a grin.
"David, come the fuck on, we've lost enough fucking time as it is."
David pinched Sascha's ass amd bounced off towards Jon as Markus headed to the bus, catching up to Weiki and bracing himself for the impending lecture.
Genre: Gen, some Slash
Bands: Bon Jovi, Helloween
Main Characters: David Bryan, Jon Bon Jovi, Richie Sambora, Tico Torres, Andi Deris, Dani Loeble, Markus Großkopf, Michael Weikath, Sascha Gerstner
Adult Content: No
Words: 1700
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: A little mix-up after a night of drinking.
Teaser: The Germans were muttering in German. David preferred English, but no one had asked him.
Sunday
It was a pretty simple mistake, really. Anyone could've done it - or at least that's what David told himself as he faced a group of none-too-pleased German musicians at fuck o'clock Sunday morning.
---
At the same time, Markus was under attack from a short man with fluffy hair who kept poking him in the chest (and stomach, when he didn't quite reach high enough), being glared at by an even shorter man with black hair and silently sympathized with by someone who looked about as hung over as Markus felt.
---
The Germans were muttering in German. David preferred English, but no one had asked him. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, but he was (perhaps irrationally) worried the frustrated-looking one would sic the big (cute!) one on him if he moved to go find a drink or an aspirin.
---
Fluffy Poke-a-lot finally gave up on getting anything through Markus' hangover-thickened skull and stomped back to talk with the other two. Markus was sure he knew who these people were - not that that would explain why he was on their bus, but still - but thinking wasn't an option this early. It was quite clearly a tour bus, so there was a 99% chance he'd be able to find either aspirin or more booze, but the short one looked like he might bite, so Markus waited to be addressed.
---
Four sets of eyes turned to David, and he twisted his face into what he hoped was an apologetic smile. "So," said the blonde one, "do you play bass?"
---
At the risk of having his ankles chewed through, Markus sat down on the nearest surface. The hungover guitarist was grinning at him. "Don't suppose you play keyboards, big guy," he said, and laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
----------
Saturday
It had been Richie's idea to go to this bar a friend had told him about, a place that had supposedly the best drinks in the known universe. Richie always seemed to have a fried who always knew of the bar with the insert-superlative-here drinks in the insert-ludicrous-place-here, and they usually went along with it.
The place was half an hour away, and when they got there there were already some buses in the parking lot.
Within thirty seconds, Richie had found six billion hot young women who inexplicably wanted to bang him, Jon was surrounded by a pack of admirers, and Tico had vanished, because he was short and wore all black and was very easy to lose track of in dark and crowded places.
David's first stop was the bathroom, because if Tico resurfaced he needed to know whether the bathroom was private enough or they'd have to go back to the bus, and on the way he passed a table of men he assumed to be the band who belonged to the other set of buses.
He'd known there was another band in the area that night, but he couldn't for the life of him remember who. There was a man with curly hair at the table, knocking back shots like there was no tomorrow, and it struck David as kind of odd to run into another man with hair as curly as his. Rare, that.
The bathroom was suitably clean and had a handicapped stall, and David settled at the bar to wait for Tico to resurface. The bartender was cute, and persuasive, and it wasn't long before David started complaining that the floor was slanted and it was very hard to stay on his stool in such conditions.
---
Ten more shots, or Markus would owe Dani fifty bucks and he certainly didn't want that.
He didn't know what he was drinking, but it burned, and his head was swimming, and that bastard drummer was looking awfully smug. Bastard.
Mike was rolling his eyes, because that was all Mike's eyes ever did, but he was muttering to Sascha and Markus was sure he saw a handshake. Hopefully he was betting against Markus, because with six shots to go Markus knew he would win and Mike was funny when he lost.
There was a man looking at their table. He looked familiar, or maybe the alcohol thought he did, but either way Markus didn't know his name and it was only important because his hair was curly and Markus couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a man with hair that curly.
"Not giving up, are you?" Dani's eyes were glittering, he was already spending the fifty.
"Never," Markus said, and polished off the last several shots with his head spinning.
---
David was laughing at the unspeakable hilarity of a spill on the bar that kind of looked like Jon with a dick in his mouth (if you squinted. A lot) when the bartender hollered, "last call!"
His best bet was to move with the crowd - if he got packed in tightly enough he wouldn't need to stand on his own. Sweet.
It was dark outside, and crowded, and David was really drunk. After getting knocked into and pushed around by a million sweaty alcohol-soaked bodies, he nearly cried with relief when he found the bus and climbed on with only minimal stumbling.
Richie was snoring, and had managed to cram himself into the bunk in such away he looked about a foot taller, scrunched into the bunk with his feet poking out from the bottom of his blanket. Maybe he had a chick with him, and that was making his bunk look more crowded.
Or maybe David was too drunk to see straight. Either was likely.
He shrugged and climbed into his own bunk, blinking a little when he realized it felt roomier than usual.
Must be drunker than I thought, he told himself, and tugged the blanket over his head for some much-needed rest.
---
The bus seemed smaller than usual, the aisle a little narrower. Maybe Markus was just drunk and banging into things and trying to justify it.
Well, there was no "maybe" about it, he was definitely drunk.
Grumbling about suffocating Sascha in his sleep if he didn't stop snoring, Markus clambered into his bunk, wondering as he tugged the covers up what exactly it was Dani had him drinking that made the bunk seem so much smaller
----------
Sunday
David was probably having more fun than he was supposed to. He was sandwiched on a couch between a hot guitarist and a hot drummer, and had decided German was kind of a sexy language. The singer - Andi? God, he was bad with names - had given him some aspirin and water a while ago, and he felt much better. Especially when a big hand found his thigh. Maybe if I learn bass I can stay, he thought with a grin.
---
"He's not answering his goddamned phone," Jon grumbled, snapping his own phone shut like it was the culprit. Markus was quickly learning that Jon had a bit of an anger problem.
"Why do you need to call him? He's probably just on their bus," Richie pointed out.
Tico hadn't spoken. Markus still feared for his ankles.
"Well I need to know where their fucking bus is headed, dumbass."
"Jon," Richie said, in the tone of someone talking to a petulant child, "don't you think the man who was on their bus knows that?"
"Oh. Uh, yeah. Heh."
Markus sighed. At least when Andi was a ditz, it was good-natured.
---
"We are about an hour away from your bus," Michael said, as David was trying to figure out if he could explain to Tico it didn't count as cheating if it was with another drummer. Because Dani kind of looked like he wanted to eat him, and David kinda wanted to let him.
Michael rolled his eyes just like Jon. Neat. "Dani, stop fondling him. Sascha, that does not mean start."
---
Markus was getting fairly sick of being glowered at. Half an hour and he'd be home - well, on the bus, but his bus. And his bus didn't have cranky eye-rolling - well, okay, there was Mike. But it didn't have someone constantly laughing at their own bad jok - oh yeah, Sascha. But the glowering - of course, Andi could be pretty foul in the morning.
He grumbled and shifted in the tiny bunk. His bus was the right size, at least.
---
Sascha's lap was pretty comfy.
In the most platonic way, of course. David had decided against a nice rowdy fuck with the pretty men right around the time Michael growled.
Not that that had anything to do with it. Being faithful to Tico, that was the motive. Morals and all that.
German was still a fucking sexy language, though.
---
It was dusk when Helloween's bus pulled into the rest stop they'd agreed to meet at, Bon Jovi's bus having pulled in about ten minutes before. Markus was thrilled for the chance to stretch his legs and get as far away as possible from the glaring drummer.
The bus hadn't even come to a full stop when a blond blur came flying out of the bus, attached itself to Markus, and started babbling in German.
David came out, draped all over Sascha, and Markus almost laughed when he glanced over and Tico's glare looked intense enough to catch small animals on fire.
"Enjoy my bus?" David asked, as he detached himself from an extremely smug-looking Sascha and walking over to Markus.
"Not really. And I don't think I need to ask you," he replied with a grin.
"David, come the fuck on, we've lost enough fucking time as it is."
David pinched Sascha's ass amd bounced off towards Jon as Markus headed to the bus, catching up to Weiki and bracing himself for the impending lecture.