Damn, Bitch (TK5)
*DISCLAIMER*- This is really shitty and poorly-written (there's probably some grammar/punctuation fuck-ups too because I can't write for shit), but with the *apparent* impending arrival of some new music (finally lmao) I figured I'd post this really old fic I wrote last year.
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“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Brandon huffed after having to play this ONE specific part of a new song for at least the tenth time. The guys had been in the recording studio for almost twelve hours today with only a few short breaks, and tensions were high with the tremendous pressure to perfect the long-awaited fifth studio album that the world has been needing for nearly five years. Ronnie sighed quietly to himself, “I’m sorry-I just…don’t know why I can’t get this.”
“I’m so fucking over this. It can’t be that fucking hard, Ron!” Brandon glared over to Ronnie, who was getting annoyed not just with himself but at Brandon now as well. He didn’t know why he couldn’t get just this one rhythm right in this song…well, right up to Brandon’s standards anyway. Dave quietly chuckled to himself as he tried to hold back laughter-Brandon and Ronnie’s quarrels always brought him plenty of enjoyment, but he wouldn’t let them know. “Brandon, what exactly is wrong with it?” Mark implored. Brandon quickly retorted, “It’s just…not right!!! Can’t you guys hear that it doesn’t work?” Annoyed, Mark simply sat down on the couch in the corner of the room they were using for recording and crossed his arms, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.
“You know you don’t have to be a dick, right? Like, there are ways of politely and constructively addressing shit like this,” Ronnie, now red-faced got up from his drum set and walked outside to get some fresh air. Mark opened his eyes slowly and stared at the ceiling. This is why I wanted time away from you guys, he thought to himself.
After a few minutes, Ronnie returned, still very flushed. “Guys let’s just call it a day and pick it back up tomorrow,” Dave said as he started collecting his materials. “Yeah, maybe some people can stop being dumbasses and finally get it right after a night’s rest,” Brandon scoffed quietly, but just loud enough-he knew just how to do this, too-for everyone to hear him. Mark glanced over at Brandon with a distinct sassiness, then proceeded to put his bass away, grab his keys, and exit the studio with Dave. Ronnie simply sat at his drum set practicing this one fucking part that Brandon just didn’t seem to like after Mark and Dave left. Brandon began to organize some papers and folders, placing them in his bag.
“Why do you have to be an ass to me? Like, could you not tell me what I’m doing wrong instead of being a complete dickhead?” Ronnie, now on the verge of tears but not letting Brandon notice, broke the tense silence.
“Ron, how fucking hard is it to tell that you aren’t coordinated with the rest of us? It’s blatantly obvious-how can an alleged *star* musician be so fucking incompetent that he can’t even hear himself suck ASS?” Brandon badgered on as he jotted something down onto a piece of paper.
“Wow,” Ronnie croaked while fighting back tears, “who the fuck pissed in your cereal this morning? Does that make you feel good? (Ronnie’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore.) Being a complete asshole to me for no reason? What the fuck is wrong with you, you bitch!”
Brandon, now paying full attention to Ronnie, put his backpack down on the couch and sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Ron, I…I’m,” Brandon stuttered, “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me lately but…I don’t know. Why am I being like this?” Brandon proceeded to grab Ronnie’s shoulders and rub them gently as the drummer wiped away his tears. “There’s just been a lot on my mind here lately, and I’ve been taking it out on you-I…I’m so sorry, man.” Brandon wrapped his arms around Ronnie from behind and placed his head on his shoulder.
“Well,” Ronnie spoke through a weak, strained voice, “I hope you feel better now that you’ve put me through hell for whatever problems you’re having.”
“I really am sorry, Ron. You know you mean the world to me and I’d never do shit like this on purpose.” Brandon spoke softly, almost on the verge of tears himself.
Ronnie pulled Brandon away from his body and looked sternly into his face, “I…it’s okay, Brandon. I just really wish you’d tell us what’s happening instead of letting it build up and tormenting all of us-especially me for whatever reason?”
Brandon nodded in agreement and went in for a hug. The two of them embraced for what seemed like an eternity. Brandon then whispered into Ronnie’s ear, “I really wanna make up for how I’ve been acting.” Confused, Ronnie let go of Brandon, “What do you mean?” Brandon pulled away from Ronnie’s embrace and looked at Ronnie with eager eyes, “Close your eyes! It’s a surprise!” Ronnie looked perplexed and met Brandon’s eager gaze with a look of apprehension, “Uh...okay, fine.” Brandon started to walk away but turned around to look at Ronnie, “No peeking!” Brandon turned around yet again to grab Ronnie’s gift.
Standing at Ronnie’s side, Brandon guided Ronnie over to the couch in the corner of the room, “Sit down right about…here. Now hold out your hands.” Ronnie warily obliged, holding his hands out in front of him. In one swift motion, Brandon grabbed Ronnie’s hands and put them behind his back-he then quickly tied the mic cord around Ronnie’s wrists as Ronnie opened his eyes. “What the fuck, Brandon?!?!”
Brandon blushed into a deep rosy hue, “I want you to forgive me for being a dick, Ron.” Ronnie, still confused, only stared at Brandon’s reddening face. Brandon, now slightly shaking, gave a weak smile, “You know, I’ve been so pissy lately because…I kinda like you? And I’ve been trying to hide it, causing me to be an absolute asswipe towards you.” Ronnie’s look of confusion and consternation quickly dissolved into a small grin with an outburst of giggling, “Are you serious? You like me? Oh m-”
“YES! I finally said it. You probably hate me…and here I am tying you up and-”
“Did I ever say stop, though? Do you really think that you could overpower me?” Ronnie grinned again, his eyes turning a deep, dark brown. His bushy brows rose.
Brandon licked his lips and immediately jumped onto Ronnie’s lap. “You fucker. I bet you always knew I liked you,” Brandon said as he rubbed Ronnie’s face. “Well, kinda? I guess I was just confused more than anythi-” Ronnie was cut off by a kiss. Leaning his head back, he let Brandon do all the work. Brandon continued kissing Ronnie, but now Ronnie fought back a little by pushing Brandon’s tongue away with his own and slightly moving his head around-it was just enough to piss Brandon off, who groaned in frustration.
“Can you…fucking…stop?” Brandon words were muffled by Ronnie’s lips. Ronnie sharply jerked his head to the side, gasping for air, “Make me.”
“Okay then,” Brandon panted, somewhat more composed now, and pulled away from Ronnie’s face. Without notice, he grabbed Ronnie’s shirt collar and ripped down, buttons and thread flying across the couch. “Damn, bitch,” Ronnie smiled at this new primal side.