hellfire_andfury | When the World Comes Crashing Down

The phone call wasn't the one he wanted to hear. His mother had just called the hotel and Viktor had picked up the call and heard it all. His old man had gone to prison for up to ten years. Fuck. Fuck it all. He just said goodbye to his mother on the phone then near smashed the whole thing against the bedroom wall. Viktor wasn't good at dealing with shit like this and even though he didn't get on with his father--the man was still his dad at the end of the day.

Fucking cops.

He was now outside livid, hurting and feeling very much alone. Not wanting to join in with the drinking games the others were doing in Aarne's room, the punk was out on the streets wanting to light something up. To burn something to the ground. He was fucking angry and would punch anyone who pissed him off at all. Or even spoke to him. Grabbing a brick from the floor he hurled it towards the nearest window he could find. Who gave a shit what it was? He was in New York, thousands of miles away from home and his old man was locked up.

"Fucking wankers."

Swearing under his breath, the punk then lit up a smoke whilst slumping down onto the nearest bench. Where was he? A few blocks away from the hotel at least. He wanted to cause carnage tonight. Maybe target the NYPD. They were police. American cops but fuck it. Cops were cops.

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"Yeah. It felt good, mate. I just wanted to fucking smash everything earlier because of the shit going on back home. The phone is in pieces back at the hotel."

Viktor smashing the phone against the wall with such force that the plastic just cracked into tiny pieces. He'd just gone on an anger rage and didn't know how to stop. Vars was perhaps the only man who could temper the punk's anger.

"Come when go? I want to. Just---I need you with me when we do go. You're the only bastard I'd want with me anyway."

He kissed Vars on the lips and then offered the bassist a punch on the arm.

"I like smash lamps when angry." Many hotel lamps had suffered that fate over the years. Vars understood what it was to get so angry and perhaps that was why he could get through to Viktor. The Norwegian knew what he had so desperately needed when he had felt this kind of anger.

Vars returned the kiss and the shoulder punch but grinned up at the Brit. "I take pretty boy in forest now." And he would, even if it meant dragging his drunk ass out of bed. Viktor had better be ready for lots of time out in the woods and driving around.

"Smash lamps? I've done that loads of times too. Mirrors, tables, chairs. Fuck loads of furniture. Together I bet we've smashed thousands worth of damage so far in all the hotels we've stayed at on this tour. It's their fucking fault the things are too weak for us."

Viktor didn't really care about the damage because playfighting with Vars in the hotel rooms was fun and he liked being rough with the Norwegian. The sex part afterwards was always good too.

"Forest now? You're keen, aren't you? We might want to put some fucking clothes on though first, mate. We're stark bollock naked."

The Brit just laughing softly while kissing Vars on the shoulder, biting down a little while slapping the bassist's ass.

"I rip door off hotel when in punk band." Vars started to laugh even if the reason he had ripped off the door wasn't a good thing.

"Mean when come next time." Vars grabbed a handful of Viktor's hair for the slap. "Pretty boy better naked. Not want make scene."

He kissed the Brit before shoving him over on the ground so they could get dressed.

"You ripped off the door in your old band? Fucking epic, mate. I've smashed my fist through a door before. Chucked a chair through a hotel window from the top floor too."

Viktor had done a lot of crazy shit through his time in the Angels but it seemed Vars had too. The punks were made for each other both loving violent destruction of furniture. The Brit laughed at the slap and then began to pull on his clothes once more. It was a good thing it was dark out and they were obscured by the trees.

"Next time it'll be good going through those woods of yours."

Vars felt more comfortable in this relationship than he had been in any other. There was no reason to tone down or be gentle, unless he wanted to be. Viktor did see some of the gentler side of the punk, especially when they slept.

However, now they needed to dress and Vars struggled a little to get up, legs stiff from laying on the cold ground for so long. Once up though it wasn't too difficult to get dressed.

"Next time mad I come. Not need make angry war alone."

Vars was perfect in everyway for the angry Brit punk because he could counter Viktor's aggression in a way that one one else could. He was an equal and was often a challenge that the singer loved, whether it be during a fight or argument, Vars was his boyfriend now. Fuck whatever else people thought.

"Need a hand, mate? You'll probably tell me to fuck off but I can help you get up if you need it."

The Brit knew the bassist had his fierce pride so wouldn't treat him as weak. It was just Viktor loved Vars and cared for him in his own way. Had the Brit behaved like a complete bastard tonight? Perhaps. Getting angry came all too easy.

"Next time I get mad? Yeah. That happens a lot. Make war? You mean next time I fuck up and go fucking crazy you'll come with me? I'd like that."

Vars took his hand for the help. If this had been anyone else he would have refused but Viktor already knew the weakness in his legs. More importantly, Vars trusted him. He did hold tight to the hand once he was standing in order to keep Viktor from dodging a rough punch to the shoulder. The playfighting would never end.

"Always go with." Vars insisted while pausing to stare at Viktor for a moment before going back to collecting his clothing and dressing. "Pretty boy not learn have someone care what happen. Go alone. I find." Like tonight. Vars wouldn't let the other punk get into situations that were dangerous, at least not without him there to back the Brit up.

When the World Comes Crashing Down

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