The Taste Of Snowflakes
folder
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Metallica
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,537
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Singers/Bands/Musicians › Metallica
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,537
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Metallica. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Snow, Starbucks, and the Batcave?
**Disclaimer!** - Nothing pertaining to Metallica is my property; to belongs to the boys of 'Tallica. Nor is any money being made from this Sad, sad, sad...isn't it!? Not do I own Starbucks! *sigh* Or...the batcave. *sulks*
"Tis the season to be jolly." But, he didn't feel that way not this year.
Holidays. That magical time of the year when miracles happen and unconditional love is the house ruler. No one really understands the intricate workings of karma or dogma - whichever you believe. Somewhere in the grand illusion, an incident happens. It may occur once, maybe twce. When the result is apparent and it becomes more than a conincidence, one must believe to some deductive reasoning that it was meant to be.
Ambling down the boardwalk, brightly hued lights were seen cascading down shop windows and carols of the season echoed through the nippy air. Everyone appeared mechanically happy as though it was such a nesessity during the holiday. Plastered on smiles and the harmonious tones to their voices made it seem as though it weren't even reality at all. Kirk didn't portray that at all. He was just some hollow entity that went through the movements as though it were some beast of bruden.
Footsteps chased in syncopation with his, a shadow caressing the darkness his own person left behind. A voice called out for him dripping with slow and slurred articulation. It seemed strained and somehow relaxed all at once. Not that Kirk minded such a refrain, but after the line dampened away he felt and elbow nudge into his side. There another man stood and a breath hitched in guitarist's ribcage.
"What's up, Kirk? Going shopping or just enjoying the view?" It was the same greeting Lars had always given to Kirk and whomever else. Nothing special to it at all.
"Oh! Hey, Lars. I'm just doing a bit of both." Lost amid the azure eyes of his bandmate, Kirk had forgotten the world around him. For years, the Dane was all that mattered to him. "...and you certainly add to the veiw." A thought, as harmless as it seemed, could tip the scale between what was appropiate and what was a carnal need.
"Dude, are you okay?" Loftg a brow, Lars observently noticed the unusal way Kirk had been gwaking at his form. Not that he shrouded the notion with digust and an unwelcomeness, but it wasn't like his comrade.
"Fine. I'm cold, I guess." A lie in the simplest form, but a lie nonetheless. Stirring closer to Kirk, the Dane drapped an arm around his shoulders and drew him closer. Saliva balled at the back of Kirk's throat from the sudden burst of heat from Lar's body.
The twinkling lights chasing down the windows of Starbucks drew the couple's attention and with a nod both were sauntering in that direction. A mistletoe merrily added holiday cheer above the doorway it having been the next thing Kirk had noticed. As fate wavered, Lars had glanced just above at the tinket with a sheepish grin. Due to the tradition of such a novelty, the Danedrew his friend within his arms and gingerly kissed Kirk upon the cheek.
"What do I need a mint or something?"
"Don't be such a pecker, Lars."
"Hey! I wasn't the one lookin' like some chick caught with her skirt in her panties."
"I didn't look like that!"
"Whatever."
As Kirk's palms ghtened to mold Lars' hips, the drummer nuzzled his nose to his and shoved away. A sooted brow quirked and a sigh rumbled to escape, but failed in its atempt. Lars placed the order for them both, he always managed to do that. It never suprised Kirk or even bothered him. but lately he had been noticing the littlest details his Danish buddy seemed to remember.
"One fluffy latte for you...carmel, soy milk, three sprinkles of cinnamon."
"Gracias, Lars."
"Ain't a problem. So, what's on the agenda now?"
"Gonna go home."
Azure eyes narrowed in questioning as the Dane scoffed in his trademark rude wayy, "Why?"
"Bored."
A melodramatic look of torment and rage wrenched across Lars' face. Pretending in a, award winning role as 'Best Drama Princess', the Dane tossed a backhand to his forehead as his slouched into the wall behind him. A pout nudged its way as fake whimpers began to interrupt the minute silence. "How could moi be boring?! Are you that much of a heartless bastard? Damn you!"
"You are such a poof. So, are you coming along or are you waiting for an award?"
"I guess my award can wait. Let us proceed to the batcave!"
"Tis the season to be jolly." But, he didn't feel that way not this year.
Holidays. That magical time of the year when miracles happen and unconditional love is the house ruler. No one really understands the intricate workings of karma or dogma - whichever you believe. Somewhere in the grand illusion, an incident happens. It may occur once, maybe twce. When the result is apparent and it becomes more than a conincidence, one must believe to some deductive reasoning that it was meant to be.
Ambling down the boardwalk, brightly hued lights were seen cascading down shop windows and carols of the season echoed through the nippy air. Everyone appeared mechanically happy as though it was such a nesessity during the holiday. Plastered on smiles and the harmonious tones to their voices made it seem as though it weren't even reality at all. Kirk didn't portray that at all. He was just some hollow entity that went through the movements as though it were some beast of bruden.
Footsteps chased in syncopation with his, a shadow caressing the darkness his own person left behind. A voice called out for him dripping with slow and slurred articulation. It seemed strained and somehow relaxed all at once. Not that Kirk minded such a refrain, but after the line dampened away he felt and elbow nudge into his side. There another man stood and a breath hitched in guitarist's ribcage.
"What's up, Kirk? Going shopping or just enjoying the view?" It was the same greeting Lars had always given to Kirk and whomever else. Nothing special to it at all.
"Oh! Hey, Lars. I'm just doing a bit of both." Lost amid the azure eyes of his bandmate, Kirk had forgotten the world around him. For years, the Dane was all that mattered to him. "...and you certainly add to the veiw." A thought, as harmless as it seemed, could tip the scale between what was appropiate and what was a carnal need.
"Dude, are you okay?" Loftg a brow, Lars observently noticed the unusal way Kirk had been gwaking at his form. Not that he shrouded the notion with digust and an unwelcomeness, but it wasn't like his comrade.
"Fine. I'm cold, I guess." A lie in the simplest form, but a lie nonetheless. Stirring closer to Kirk, the Dane drapped an arm around his shoulders and drew him closer. Saliva balled at the back of Kirk's throat from the sudden burst of heat from Lar's body.
The twinkling lights chasing down the windows of Starbucks drew the couple's attention and with a nod both were sauntering in that direction. A mistletoe merrily added holiday cheer above the doorway it having been the next thing Kirk had noticed. As fate wavered, Lars had glanced just above at the tinket with a sheepish grin. Due to the tradition of such a novelty, the Danedrew his friend within his arms and gingerly kissed Kirk upon the cheek.
"What do I need a mint or something?"
"Don't be such a pecker, Lars."
"Hey! I wasn't the one lookin' like some chick caught with her skirt in her panties."
"I didn't look like that!"
"Whatever."
As Kirk's palms ghtened to mold Lars' hips, the drummer nuzzled his nose to his and shoved away. A sooted brow quirked and a sigh rumbled to escape, but failed in its atempt. Lars placed the order for them both, he always managed to do that. It never suprised Kirk or even bothered him. but lately he had been noticing the littlest details his Danish buddy seemed to remember.
"One fluffy latte for you...carmel, soy milk, three sprinkles of cinnamon."
"Gracias, Lars."
"Ain't a problem. So, what's on the agenda now?"
"Gonna go home."
Azure eyes narrowed in questioning as the Dane scoffed in his trademark rude wayy, "Why?"
"Bored."
A melodramatic look of torment and rage wrenched across Lars' face. Pretending in a, award winning role as 'Best Drama Princess', the Dane tossed a backhand to his forehead as his slouched into the wall behind him. A pout nudged its way as fake whimpers began to interrupt the minute silence. "How could moi be boring?! Are you that much of a heartless bastard? Damn you!"
"You are such a poof. So, are you coming along or are you waiting for an award?"
"I guess my award can wait. Let us proceed to the batcave!"