Belated Birthday Gift for Kol?
May. 2nd, 2010 10:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mindsplintersAs long as she likes it, anyway. XD The Roadtrip 2010 proved fertile for crack-ideas and brainstorming. One of the things that came out of this was a deeper understanding of Kingdom's Genderbent Band AU. No, I don't think it existed before. It does now. Face it. Love Assault needed to be a reality!
Cecil - lead singer/writer. Paris - drums. John - keyboard. Marcus - lead guitar/backing vocals. Nate - bass/guitar/backing vocals.
"Look, man, all I'm saying is be careful." Nate readjusted his sprawl on the beaten couch in the corner of their practice space. Reaching up, he pushed the tumbled mess of thick dark hair off his forehead and regarded his best friend with his strange, deep-red eyes. "Any girl who mails you her panties is bound to be kinda unhinged. It was bad enough when she was just throwing them at you." He cracked a sudden grin at the growing blush on Marcus' cheeks. "The way she goes through them, though... Do they even have a frequent shopper's card at Victoria's Secret?"
"I... I don't know." Marcus fiddled with the uppermost tuning peg on the guitar carefully balanced across his lap. He kept his eyes down and focused; why complicate things beyond the music? "I guess you'd know, though, huh, Nate?"
Nate chuckled and sunk further into the couch. His long legs stretched out in front of him, one on the couch, the other dangling to drag on the floor. He scraped a hand back through his hair again and grinned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked mildly.
"You, uh, you know. All the girls that come backstage..." Marcus trailed off, his head ducking more until he finally released an explosive sigh. Settling his hands palm down on the body of the guitar, he looked up to study Nate with curiosity. "Do you really think Deona's, like, a stalker or something?"
"Or something," Nate agreed solemnly. He pushed himself upright, swinging his leg around so he could plant both feet on the floor. He leaned forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees and studied Marcus' face. He had to go carefully on this one or Deona might kill him or withhold illicit messages to Dusti. Then again, it wasn't as if he should make things easy on her. It wasn't part of their relationship. "She's definitely into you for whatever reason," he said slowly. "That's not an act." He paused and considered his words again. He noticed the slight widening of Marcus' eyes behind his squared-off glasses, a sure sign of the other young man's surprise and disbelief. He allowed himself a slight smirk. "Maybe she's got a geek fetish. No, really, man. If she was just in it to get with a musician, there's easier ones."
"Like you."
Nate laughed, sitting up and flopping back against the couch, hands clutched over his heart. "Et tu, Brute?" he quoted.
"Hey! It's not like I'm making that up." Nate heard the soft sounds of Marcus carefully settling his guitar into its stand. He felt the couch cushions sink and turned his head to watch Marcus settle down beside him with a stubborn expression. "You're always chatting girls up."
"Not really." At Marcus' disbelieving look, he sighed. "Look, just between you and me, half the time those conversations are about as far away from pick-up lines as you can get." He smiled crookedly, a wry look of self-deprecation bright in his eyes. "Lately, anyway."
"But what about that girl..?"
The sheepish look deepened. "I was giving her directions to an all-night coffee shop."
"Bullshit!"
Nate laughed again. "No, really. Scout's honor." He held up the appropriate fingers in the time-honored tradition. "In the past ten gigs, have you seen me take any girl out of your sight? Like, onto the bus or a back room or anything?"
Shaking his head slowly, Marcus had to admit the truth of it. "Then... Why?"
"Because it beats sitting around and listening to Cecil rage on about the inherent, delicate beauty of a chord change in the second verse of Breaking Bones." Nate shrugged. "I dunno. It's a change to talk to someone else and it's no good to look like we're all stuck-up like Paris or chronically shy like John. Some of the girls are nice. Even if I'm not trying to get into their pants." He studied Marcus. "Why don't you talk to them?"
"Because I don't know what to say." Marcus paused and stared off across the room for a moment. "I'm really just in it for the music, you know." His shoulders slumped but he was grinning as he turned back to his best friend. "What was that about a geek fetish?"
"You're the poster child." Nate reached over to swat the back of Marcus' head in gentle affection. When Marcus rolled with it to lessen the force, he chuckled. Then he twisted in his seat and threw his legs over the lead guitarist's lap, effectively pinning him as he lounged back against the arm of the couch. "So what do you think?" At the blank look, Nate added, "About Deona's panties."
"Um, well... She included her address." He blushed again. "I was thinking I'd mail them back."
Silence greeted his decision. Nate watched him with no expression whatsoever, steady and level and unmoving. Marcus stared back but with confusion. Finally, the bassist sighed. "A girl sends you her panties and you're going to mail them back," he repeated. "Are you going to put a little thank you note in with them?"
"... Should I?"
"Only if it has your personal phone number." Nate shook his head. "Actually, no, don't bother. Hang onto them. She'll be at our next gig and you can hand them off in a sterilized vacuum-packed bag if you want."
"But how do you..?"
Nate grinned slyly. "I have my ways."
Marcus stared at him for long moments and then burst out laughing. "Shit," he gasped around his amusement. "That's why you haven't been picking up girls." He shoved Nate's legs off him and twisted to point a finger into the other man's chest. "You've been hooked up already!" he accused. "Who was it? Not the cheerleader, right?"
Nate swatted away the hand but he joined the laughter. "Hell, no. Lexi's a baby! Like maybe eighteen on a good day."
"Then who... Oh." Marcus grinned. "Ohhhh, I know. Dusti, right?"
"Yeah, you got me." He pushed himself upright, standing and stretching lazily. He smirked down at his friend. "You know how?"
"... How?"
"I returned her panties in person." Snickering, Nate ducked the instant swing for retaliation and headed towards the door. "C'mon, man. Deona's just a girl in the end. Screwy one but whatever. She digs you. Give her the time of day." He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder with a wicked grin. "Just make sure you meet her in a public place. Stockholm Syndrome is hard to shake, I hear."
He ducked out, narrowly avoiding the thrown pillow, but his laughter drifted back and, after a few moments, Marcus joined in, pushing off the couch and trotting out after his best friend. There were more questions to ask.
Cecil - lead singer/writer. Paris - drums. John - keyboard. Marcus - lead guitar/backing vocals. Nate - bass/guitar/backing vocals.
"Look, man, all I'm saying is be careful." Nate readjusted his sprawl on the beaten couch in the corner of their practice space. Reaching up, he pushed the tumbled mess of thick dark hair off his forehead and regarded his best friend with his strange, deep-red eyes. "Any girl who mails you her panties is bound to be kinda unhinged. It was bad enough when she was just throwing them at you." He cracked a sudden grin at the growing blush on Marcus' cheeks. "The way she goes through them, though... Do they even have a frequent shopper's card at Victoria's Secret?"
"I... I don't know." Marcus fiddled with the uppermost tuning peg on the guitar carefully balanced across his lap. He kept his eyes down and focused; why complicate things beyond the music? "I guess you'd know, though, huh, Nate?"
Nate chuckled and sunk further into the couch. His long legs stretched out in front of him, one on the couch, the other dangling to drag on the floor. He scraped a hand back through his hair again and grinned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked mildly.
"You, uh, you know. All the girls that come backstage..." Marcus trailed off, his head ducking more until he finally released an explosive sigh. Settling his hands palm down on the body of the guitar, he looked up to study Nate with curiosity. "Do you really think Deona's, like, a stalker or something?"
"Or something," Nate agreed solemnly. He pushed himself upright, swinging his leg around so he could plant both feet on the floor. He leaned forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees and studied Marcus' face. He had to go carefully on this one or Deona might kill him or withhold illicit messages to Dusti. Then again, it wasn't as if he should make things easy on her. It wasn't part of their relationship. "She's definitely into you for whatever reason," he said slowly. "That's not an act." He paused and considered his words again. He noticed the slight widening of Marcus' eyes behind his squared-off glasses, a sure sign of the other young man's surprise and disbelief. He allowed himself a slight smirk. "Maybe she's got a geek fetish. No, really, man. If she was just in it to get with a musician, there's easier ones."
"Like you."
Nate laughed, sitting up and flopping back against the couch, hands clutched over his heart. "Et tu, Brute?" he quoted.
"Hey! It's not like I'm making that up." Nate heard the soft sounds of Marcus carefully settling his guitar into its stand. He felt the couch cushions sink and turned his head to watch Marcus settle down beside him with a stubborn expression. "You're always chatting girls up."
"Not really." At Marcus' disbelieving look, he sighed. "Look, just between you and me, half the time those conversations are about as far away from pick-up lines as you can get." He smiled crookedly, a wry look of self-deprecation bright in his eyes. "Lately, anyway."
"But what about that girl..?"
The sheepish look deepened. "I was giving her directions to an all-night coffee shop."
"Bullshit!"
Nate laughed again. "No, really. Scout's honor." He held up the appropriate fingers in the time-honored tradition. "In the past ten gigs, have you seen me take any girl out of your sight? Like, onto the bus or a back room or anything?"
Shaking his head slowly, Marcus had to admit the truth of it. "Then... Why?"
"Because it beats sitting around and listening to Cecil rage on about the inherent, delicate beauty of a chord change in the second verse of Breaking Bones." Nate shrugged. "I dunno. It's a change to talk to someone else and it's no good to look like we're all stuck-up like Paris or chronically shy like John. Some of the girls are nice. Even if I'm not trying to get into their pants." He studied Marcus. "Why don't you talk to them?"
"Because I don't know what to say." Marcus paused and stared off across the room for a moment. "I'm really just in it for the music, you know." His shoulders slumped but he was grinning as he turned back to his best friend. "What was that about a geek fetish?"
"You're the poster child." Nate reached over to swat the back of Marcus' head in gentle affection. When Marcus rolled with it to lessen the force, he chuckled. Then he twisted in his seat and threw his legs over the lead guitarist's lap, effectively pinning him as he lounged back against the arm of the couch. "So what do you think?" At the blank look, Nate added, "About Deona's panties."
"Um, well... She included her address." He blushed again. "I was thinking I'd mail them back."
Silence greeted his decision. Nate watched him with no expression whatsoever, steady and level and unmoving. Marcus stared back but with confusion. Finally, the bassist sighed. "A girl sends you her panties and you're going to mail them back," he repeated. "Are you going to put a little thank you note in with them?"
"... Should I?"
"Only if it has your personal phone number." Nate shook his head. "Actually, no, don't bother. Hang onto them. She'll be at our next gig and you can hand them off in a sterilized vacuum-packed bag if you want."
"But how do you..?"
Nate grinned slyly. "I have my ways."
Marcus stared at him for long moments and then burst out laughing. "Shit," he gasped around his amusement. "That's why you haven't been picking up girls." He shoved Nate's legs off him and twisted to point a finger into the other man's chest. "You've been hooked up already!" he accused. "Who was it? Not the cheerleader, right?"
Nate swatted away the hand but he joined the laughter. "Hell, no. Lexi's a baby! Like maybe eighteen on a good day."
"Then who... Oh." Marcus grinned. "Ohhhh, I know. Dusti, right?"
"Yeah, you got me." He pushed himself upright, standing and stretching lazily. He smirked down at his friend. "You know how?"
"... How?"
"I returned her panties in person." Snickering, Nate ducked the instant swing for retaliation and headed towards the door. "C'mon, man. Deona's just a girl in the end. Screwy one but whatever. She digs you. Give her the time of day." He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder with a wicked grin. "Just make sure you meet her in a public place. Stockholm Syndrome is hard to shake, I hear."
He ducked out, narrowly avoiding the thrown pillow, but his laughter drifted back and, after a few moments, Marcus joined in, pushing off the couch and trotting out after his best friend. There were more questions to ask.
