2021-05-21 13:54
hellfire_andfury
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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.
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.
(no subject)
"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.
(no subject)
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."
(no subject)
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."
(no subject)
"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."
(no subject)
"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.