An Eye for Beauty [2/?]
Title: An Eye for Beauty [2/?]
Author: sadeinightshade
Rating: NC-17
Primary Pairing: Linbu
Secondary Pairing(s): Vam
Minor Pairing(s): We’ll just have to wait and find out.
Summary: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes that eye needs to be opened.
Notes: This one isn’t entirely my fault, if you’ll see the dedication and disclaimer. It should be a fun write, but I’m not entirely sure how long it’ll take. You should know me by now. XP
Warning: Serious AU.
Dedication: To elterriblefizzy, for entertaining the simple notion that Burton must be a porn star. A late night phone call can do a lot for a slasher in need.
Disclaimer: I own no-one in this story. The premise of the story can be accredited to elterriblefizzy. The only thing that I own is the story itself and anyone that you truly don’t recognize (not sure that’ll happen, though). It is, of course, not intended to mar the reputations of any of the parties involved, so no disrespect if they ever get a hold of it. I don’t know them, can’t own them, and I make no money from any of this, so don’t sue.
----
He was going to do…something. He didn’t know what, but he knew that there was something he wanted to do. It made no sense to him either. Burton snorted and rolled onto his back, brushing a bit of stubborn hair out of his eyes. Maybe he could go to-no, no that would make him seem desperate. Or would it? Maybe it would make the boy feel special. But Burton didn’t want him to feel used. He tried to avoid moments of “Hi. I’m bored. Entertain me.”
Then again, it had been a day and he’d left a note in the man’s wallet- ‘How very subtle of you, Janne,’ he thought-so maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t mind. He looked over at the clock. It wasn’t quite noon yet. He had the day off-everyone did-he was hungry-his stomach hastened to remind him-and he was bored. He glanced at the phone and then pushed himself up and reached for the receiver.
--
No one really called Linde unless they wanted something. That usually came out of Migé, he’d learned. He expected it to be him when he picked up the phone, but something told him not to give the customary greeting of “What is it now, Mizee?”
Instead, he gave a half-way polite “Hello?”
“Hello, Mikko,” said the voice on the other end.
Linde fumbled the phone. Suddenly his hands were shaking and sweating, his mouth was dry, his heart was beating a million miles a minute. “B-B-Burton,” he managed, barely, “h-hi.”
‘Is that the best you can do, Lindström?’ he scolded himself. Burton’s chuckle made his heart flutter. Maybe he was having that heart attack.
“Mikko, darling,” Burton laughed-‘He called me darling!’-“What did I tell you last night? You’re going to give yourself a heart attack and that won’t do anyone any good.”
“Sorry,” Linde managed in a small voice. “I…um…can I…can I help you…?”
‘You are so articulate, Linde,’ he thought, kicking himself.
There was a smile in the other’s voice when he said, “As a matter of fact, you can.” Linde’s heart fluttered again. “What would you say to pizza?”
Linde lit up suddenly, sitting bolt upright. “Pizza? Sure.”
“My treat, then. Come down the hall. I’ll see you soon, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and no reason to get all dressed up or anything. It’s just pizza, after all,” said the other man with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Linde was grinning like a maniac by the time they hung up. He managed to dig up a pair of faded green cargo pants because he’d rather not go down there with his underwear hanging out-all the better to stuff all of his random shit into and, of course, hide in-and a black beater. He didn’t even bother tying his Chucks before he made his way down the hall to Burton’s room. He smelled cigarette smoke when he reached the door. He had to shove certain dirty thoughts from his mind before he knocked and Burton was surprisingly quick to answer.
“Hello, love,” Burton smiled around the cigarette that gave off the scent that sent his mind diving straight into the gutter in the first place. And this time he’d called him ‘love.’ Again. He did have to wonder whether or not anyone else got the same treatment, but he shook that from his head.
“Hi,” he murmured, following when Burton gestured him inside.
He was dressed simply again, and Linde smiled at the fact that they were dressed half-way similarly, only Burton wore another pair of jeans and a white, fishnet beater. Oh, the images that attacked Linde’s mind then. But Burton was buying them pizza. He was dressed, for the most part, like any other person. His bag was a mess, like any other person’s. His room was just the same as everyone else’s. He was just as human, just as imperfect as everyone else, yet Linde couldn’t help but admire him. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was in Burton’s room, soon with a slice of pizza in hand, both eating right out of the box.
--
They reached for the same slice a few times, absentmindedly, and startling one another. Linde jumped and blushed and a chill ran down Burton’s spine. He generally let Linde take that slice and went for another, but then they did it again and snorted with laughter. It happened once more and they were staring at one another, only to burst into laughter.
“We have a problem,” Linde snickered. It was the first time that Linde spoke first since they’d run into each other, the first time he’d addressed him calmly. Burton couldn’t help but to smile, as small as it was, and Linde blushed somewhat. When they reached into the box again, they paused with their hands hovering near the same piece again.
“Yes, Mikko,” he chuckled, “we do have a problem.”
‘Or maybe it isn’t a problem,’ he thought.
--
Mikko Paananen-better known as Migé, of course-paused in his venture back to his room from lunch. He stared at Burton’s door. There was laughter inside. Very familiar laughter, in fact. Well, familiar beyond Burton’s, but that was a another story for another time. He heard Linde in there-Linde’s laughter and a rather pointless argument over pizza. Pizza…go figure. Both were whores for pizza, he knew.
He also knew something that neither of them did.
They had been linked for years through him-he wasn’t sure that Burton even recognized him, as side-tracked as he’d been and as much time as Migé spent hidden behind that camera. Time and time again, Linde had talked his ear off about Burton’s movies and Burton had avoided talking about them at all, especially when he became more and more well-known.
He knew, though, that they were similar, yet completely different. He was surprised that Linde was in there, for he was as shy as they came, while Burton was ‘quietly open,’ as they’d joked years ago. Linde was stubborn-so was Burton. Linde was lazy-Burton was on overdrive as a result of coffee a lot of the time. But opposites attract, even when it came to soundmen and porn stars, apparently.
“This should be interesting,” he mumbled, making his way back to his room, but he froze in mid-step and grinned. Bam. Bam and Ville. They seemed to be watching Burton and Linde’s every move. He darted down to first one room-only to be met with silence-and then the other. There was laughter in the second room-laughter and then silence when Migé knocked.
--
“You don’t think it’s one of them, do you?” Bam whispered, but Ville shook his head, snickering.
“Footsteps were too heavy, I think.”
“Like you could hear those,” Bam grinned, watching Ville when he uncurled himself, almost catlike, and made his way to the door. Bam leaned to the right to peer out of the crack of the door and there stood his cameraman. He blinked and then tilted his head curiously.
“Did you know that your targets-” Bam and Ville both stared at him blankly “-are having pizza?”
Ville yanked him inside and Bam sat up properly, raising both eyebrows.
“First off,” he said, “how did you know we were, you know…?”
“Because you’re obvious,” Migé smiled, slipping away from Ville. “Anyway, they’re having pizza. What goes with pizza?”
“Beer, generally,” Ville mumbled and then paused. He and Bam shared a look, grinned, looked back at Migé, who nodded.
“And if we get them a drunk, they’ll start to talk,” Bam mused, “and if they talk, Linde’ll stop being a spaz.”
“He’ll still be a spaz,” Migé laughed. “He’ll loosen up a little, but he’ll still be a spaz. And Burton’s still gonna be quiet.”
“The quiet one and the shy one,” Bam chuckled. “This is gonna be fun. Either that or a pain in the ass…”
“Bit of both, Bammie,” Ville smirked, settling on the edge of the bed. “Migé, sweetheart…you know them well enough to know what beer they like, don’t you?”
Migé stared at Ville for a moment while Bam plucked out his wallet and unfolded a few bills, standing to press them into Migé’s hand.
“Take that, get them beer, and keep the change ‘cause you might need it.”
“For what, exactly?” Migé asked suspiciously.
Bam just smiled, but it wasn’t hard to read the sparkle in his eyes. His inner prankster was showing.
--
The pizza box had been banished to the top of the trashcan by the time Migé knocked on Burton’s door. Both men stared lazily toward it, full and content from pizza, entertained by one another, sides hurting from laughing so hard for so long.
“Who is it?” Burton called, unfolding himself from, well, himself.
“It’s Migé,” said a voice on the other side of the door.
“Migé?” Burton mouthed, watching Linde practically launch himself toward the door. “What’s he doing here?”
“Camera,” Linde laughed, but he paused with his hand on the door handle, blinking at Burton’s look of recognition. “Wait…you know him?”
Burton nodded slowly and Linde’s jaw practically hit the floor before he wrenched the door open and pulled Migé inside. Migé did not look amused by the treatment. He just held up the beer and Linde took it quickly, shoving Migé further inside of the room before he shut and quickly locked the door.
Migé had barely set down the beer before two voices screamed at him “Why didn’t you say you knew him?!” “Why wasn’t I told you were on the crew?!”
Migé went silent. Burton stared at him. Linde was glaring. Migé cleared his throat, took up a beer, and handed one to Burton, who cracked it open with his ring-Linde stared for a moment-and took a swig of it without looking away.
“Don’t give me that look, Janne,” Migé coughed.
Burton knew well that an emotionless stare made Migé more nervous than a glare. An emotionless stare while eating or drinking was even worse. Migé actually slipped behind Linde, clearing his throat again.
“I don’t answer questions I’m not asked,” Migé said with the tiniest amount of confidence now that he was hiding behind the-gorgeous, but Burton wouldn’t admit that out loud-stick that was Linde. That confidence was knocked right out of him when he took an elbow to the gut, however.
“We have to talk,” Linde mumbled.
“I’ll beat his ass later, then,” Burton said, continuing to stare at Migé even when Linde started to drag him out of the room.
--
Bam saw Linde haul Migé away and cursed as he drew back into his room. Shutting the door and leaning against it, he looked over at Ville, who dropped his head back onto the bed.
“Change of plan,” Bam grunted, pushing away from the door to join Ville on the bed.
“Did we have a plan B?” Ville frowned.
Bam shook his head, looking down at the older man quietly. He seemed to be studying him again even if Ville didn’t notice, studying every subtle curve, the hips showing where dark jeans clung in what might soon become a futile effort to stay up, the pale skin revealed by his hiked up shirt and low-riding pants. He blinked at the aged ink there. He hadn’t noticed it before-vines and a strange symbol that he instantly seemed to fall in love with.
“Bammie?” Ville asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
Bam’s eyes trailed lazily toward the rumpled covers instead. Plan B…plan B… “No, there isn’t a plan B,” he finally said. “We need to come up with one of them.”
“Quickly,” Ville agreed.
Author: sadeinightshade
Rating: NC-17
Primary Pairing: Linbu
Secondary Pairing(s): Vam
Minor Pairing(s): We’ll just have to wait and find out.
Summary: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Sometimes that eye needs to be opened.
Notes: This one isn’t entirely my fault, if you’ll see the dedication and disclaimer. It should be a fun write, but I’m not entirely sure how long it’ll take. You should know me by now. XP
Warning: Serious AU.
Dedication: To elterriblefizzy, for entertaining the simple notion that Burton must be a porn star. A late night phone call can do a lot for a slasher in need.
Disclaimer: I own no-one in this story. The premise of the story can be accredited to elterriblefizzy. The only thing that I own is the story itself and anyone that you truly don’t recognize (not sure that’ll happen, though). It is, of course, not intended to mar the reputations of any of the parties involved, so no disrespect if they ever get a hold of it. I don’t know them, can’t own them, and I make no money from any of this, so don’t sue.
----
He was going to do…something. He didn’t know what, but he knew that there was something he wanted to do. It made no sense to him either. Burton snorted and rolled onto his back, brushing a bit of stubborn hair out of his eyes. Maybe he could go to-no, no that would make him seem desperate. Or would it? Maybe it would make the boy feel special. But Burton didn’t want him to feel used. He tried to avoid moments of “Hi. I’m bored. Entertain me.”
Then again, it had been a day and he’d left a note in the man’s wallet- ‘How very subtle of you, Janne,’ he thought-so maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t mind. He looked over at the clock. It wasn’t quite noon yet. He had the day off-everyone did-he was hungry-his stomach hastened to remind him-and he was bored. He glanced at the phone and then pushed himself up and reached for the receiver.
--
No one really called Linde unless they wanted something. That usually came out of Migé, he’d learned. He expected it to be him when he picked up the phone, but something told him not to give the customary greeting of “What is it now, Mizee?”
Instead, he gave a half-way polite “Hello?”
“Hello, Mikko,” said the voice on the other end.
Linde fumbled the phone. Suddenly his hands were shaking and sweating, his mouth was dry, his heart was beating a million miles a minute. “B-B-Burton,” he managed, barely, “h-hi.”
‘Is that the best you can do, Lindström?’ he scolded himself. Burton’s chuckle made his heart flutter. Maybe he was having that heart attack.
“Mikko, darling,” Burton laughed-‘He called me darling!’-“What did I tell you last night? You’re going to give yourself a heart attack and that won’t do anyone any good.”
“Sorry,” Linde managed in a small voice. “I…um…can I…can I help you…?”
‘You are so articulate, Linde,’ he thought, kicking himself.
There was a smile in the other’s voice when he said, “As a matter of fact, you can.” Linde’s heart fluttered again. “What would you say to pizza?”
Linde lit up suddenly, sitting bolt upright. “Pizza? Sure.”
“My treat, then. Come down the hall. I’ll see you soon, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Oh, and no reason to get all dressed up or anything. It’s just pizza, after all,” said the other man with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Linde was grinning like a maniac by the time they hung up. He managed to dig up a pair of faded green cargo pants because he’d rather not go down there with his underwear hanging out-all the better to stuff all of his random shit into and, of course, hide in-and a black beater. He didn’t even bother tying his Chucks before he made his way down the hall to Burton’s room. He smelled cigarette smoke when he reached the door. He had to shove certain dirty thoughts from his mind before he knocked and Burton was surprisingly quick to answer.
“Hello, love,” Burton smiled around the cigarette that gave off the scent that sent his mind diving straight into the gutter in the first place. And this time he’d called him ‘love.’ Again. He did have to wonder whether or not anyone else got the same treatment, but he shook that from his head.
“Hi,” he murmured, following when Burton gestured him inside.
He was dressed simply again, and Linde smiled at the fact that they were dressed half-way similarly, only Burton wore another pair of jeans and a white, fishnet beater. Oh, the images that attacked Linde’s mind then. But Burton was buying them pizza. He was dressed, for the most part, like any other person. His bag was a mess, like any other person’s. His room was just the same as everyone else’s. He was just as human, just as imperfect as everyone else, yet Linde couldn’t help but admire him. He couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was in Burton’s room, soon with a slice of pizza in hand, both eating right out of the box.
--
They reached for the same slice a few times, absentmindedly, and startling one another. Linde jumped and blushed and a chill ran down Burton’s spine. He generally let Linde take that slice and went for another, but then they did it again and snorted with laughter. It happened once more and they were staring at one another, only to burst into laughter.
“We have a problem,” Linde snickered. It was the first time that Linde spoke first since they’d run into each other, the first time he’d addressed him calmly. Burton couldn’t help but to smile, as small as it was, and Linde blushed somewhat. When they reached into the box again, they paused with their hands hovering near the same piece again.
“Yes, Mikko,” he chuckled, “we do have a problem.”
‘Or maybe it isn’t a problem,’ he thought.
--
Mikko Paananen-better known as Migé, of course-paused in his venture back to his room from lunch. He stared at Burton’s door. There was laughter inside. Very familiar laughter, in fact. Well, familiar beyond Burton’s, but that was a another story for another time. He heard Linde in there-Linde’s laughter and a rather pointless argument over pizza. Pizza…go figure. Both were whores for pizza, he knew.
He also knew something that neither of them did.
They had been linked for years through him-he wasn’t sure that Burton even recognized him, as side-tracked as he’d been and as much time as Migé spent hidden behind that camera. Time and time again, Linde had talked his ear off about Burton’s movies and Burton had avoided talking about them at all, especially when he became more and more well-known.
He knew, though, that they were similar, yet completely different. He was surprised that Linde was in there, for he was as shy as they came, while Burton was ‘quietly open,’ as they’d joked years ago. Linde was stubborn-so was Burton. Linde was lazy-Burton was on overdrive as a result of coffee a lot of the time. But opposites attract, even when it came to soundmen and porn stars, apparently.
“This should be interesting,” he mumbled, making his way back to his room, but he froze in mid-step and grinned. Bam. Bam and Ville. They seemed to be watching Burton and Linde’s every move. He darted down to first one room-only to be met with silence-and then the other. There was laughter in the second room-laughter and then silence when Migé knocked.
--
“You don’t think it’s one of them, do you?” Bam whispered, but Ville shook his head, snickering.
“Footsteps were too heavy, I think.”
“Like you could hear those,” Bam grinned, watching Ville when he uncurled himself, almost catlike, and made his way to the door. Bam leaned to the right to peer out of the crack of the door and there stood his cameraman. He blinked and then tilted his head curiously.
“Did you know that your targets-” Bam and Ville both stared at him blankly “-are having pizza?”
Ville yanked him inside and Bam sat up properly, raising both eyebrows.
“First off,” he said, “how did you know we were, you know…?”
“Because you’re obvious,” Migé smiled, slipping away from Ville. “Anyway, they’re having pizza. What goes with pizza?”
“Beer, generally,” Ville mumbled and then paused. He and Bam shared a look, grinned, looked back at Migé, who nodded.
“And if we get them a drunk, they’ll start to talk,” Bam mused, “and if they talk, Linde’ll stop being a spaz.”
“He’ll still be a spaz,” Migé laughed. “He’ll loosen up a little, but he’ll still be a spaz. And Burton’s still gonna be quiet.”
“The quiet one and the shy one,” Bam chuckled. “This is gonna be fun. Either that or a pain in the ass…”
“Bit of both, Bammie,” Ville smirked, settling on the edge of the bed. “Migé, sweetheart…you know them well enough to know what beer they like, don’t you?”
Migé stared at Ville for a moment while Bam plucked out his wallet and unfolded a few bills, standing to press them into Migé’s hand.
“Take that, get them beer, and keep the change ‘cause you might need it.”
“For what, exactly?” Migé asked suspiciously.
Bam just smiled, but it wasn’t hard to read the sparkle in his eyes. His inner prankster was showing.
--
The pizza box had been banished to the top of the trashcan by the time Migé knocked on Burton’s door. Both men stared lazily toward it, full and content from pizza, entertained by one another, sides hurting from laughing so hard for so long.
“Who is it?” Burton called, unfolding himself from, well, himself.
“It’s Migé,” said a voice on the other side of the door.
“Migé?” Burton mouthed, watching Linde practically launch himself toward the door. “What’s he doing here?”
“Camera,” Linde laughed, but he paused with his hand on the door handle, blinking at Burton’s look of recognition. “Wait…you know him?”
Burton nodded slowly and Linde’s jaw practically hit the floor before he wrenched the door open and pulled Migé inside. Migé did not look amused by the treatment. He just held up the beer and Linde took it quickly, shoving Migé further inside of the room before he shut and quickly locked the door.
Migé had barely set down the beer before two voices screamed at him “Why didn’t you say you knew him?!” “Why wasn’t I told you were on the crew?!”
Migé went silent. Burton stared at him. Linde was glaring. Migé cleared his throat, took up a beer, and handed one to Burton, who cracked it open with his ring-Linde stared for a moment-and took a swig of it without looking away.
“Don’t give me that look, Janne,” Migé coughed.
Burton knew well that an emotionless stare made Migé more nervous than a glare. An emotionless stare while eating or drinking was even worse. Migé actually slipped behind Linde, clearing his throat again.
“I don’t answer questions I’m not asked,” Migé said with the tiniest amount of confidence now that he was hiding behind the-gorgeous, but Burton wouldn’t admit that out loud-stick that was Linde. That confidence was knocked right out of him when he took an elbow to the gut, however.
“We have to talk,” Linde mumbled.
“I’ll beat his ass later, then,” Burton said, continuing to stare at Migé even when Linde started to drag him out of the room.
--
Bam saw Linde haul Migé away and cursed as he drew back into his room. Shutting the door and leaning against it, he looked over at Ville, who dropped his head back onto the bed.
“Change of plan,” Bam grunted, pushing away from the door to join Ville on the bed.
“Did we have a plan B?” Ville frowned.
Bam shook his head, looking down at the older man quietly. He seemed to be studying him again even if Ville didn’t notice, studying every subtle curve, the hips showing where dark jeans clung in what might soon become a futile effort to stay up, the pale skin revealed by his hiked up shirt and low-riding pants. He blinked at the aged ink there. He hadn’t noticed it before-vines and a strange symbol that he instantly seemed to fall in love with.
“Bammie?” Ville asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
Bam’s eyes trailed lazily toward the rumpled covers instead. Plan B…plan B… “No, there isn’t a plan B,” he finally said. “We need to come up with one of them.”
“Quickly,” Ville agreed.