Sven Gustaffsson (
nordlig_pojke) wrote2021-12-18 03:58 pm
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Who put out the trash?
It was time.
Ulrik's trashy older brother, Sven, was now getting off the plane at LA airport and embracing his baby brother in a drunken hug. Oh god. The older blond reeked of booze and was drunk, having no doubt filled himself with in flight booze, of course he had. Laughing, Ulrik patted Sven on the back and then pulled his bleached blond hair in a playful manner because it had been what? A few months since he saw his brother since starting the LA tour with Blixt and the other bands. Sigurd was standing next to Ulrik and took in Sven's appearance; drunk, wearing tight black leather pants, a black jacket with tears in the seams and bright neon boots made with fake crocodile and a red bandanna across his head. Of course. What trash. The all spoke in their mother tongue as they greeted each other.
"Det är kul att se dig igen, broder. (It's good to see you again, brother.)"
Sven reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of booze, which was whiskey by the looks of it. Had he bought that on the plane? Fuck knew. Ulrik rolled his eyes because he knew all about the trashy singer's habits with booze and they weren't the best. Bjorn was back at the Strip spending time with his ginger since he was spending more and more time with Rekker. Both Ulrik and Sigurd thought it was the best thing for their band leader. Lars was out somewhere following poor Devon around but everyone thought it was cute.
"Flygflyget var så jävla tråkigt! Vi går till en klubb och kör åt helvete. (The plane flight was so fucking boring! Let's go to a club right now and get fucked.)"
Sigurd just stared at Sven and sighed. Oh great----another Bjorn. This wouldn't end well because Sven looked trashy as hell and was drunk just getting off the plane. Now he wanted to hit the town and get smashed even before checking into the hotel. Did the man even bring stuff with him? Clothes? Possessions? Sigurd couldn't see any.
"Var är alla dina kläder, Sven? Har du glömt att ta med dem? (Where are all your clothes, Sven? Did you forget to bring them?)"
The singer shot Sigurd an amused smirk as he took a few quick swigs of booze before shoving the bottle back into his jacket. This guy was the bassist and he knew all about him from what Ulrik had told him. The band dad. That was just the cutest!
"Hej, pappa pojke! Ta det lugnt. Jag behöver inte ta med skit eftersom jag bara köper nya kläder här i L.A. Fan, ja. (Hey, daddy boy! Chill the fuck out. I don't need to bring shit since I'll just buy new clothes here in LA. Fuck yeah.)"
At those words, Sigurd just pinched his nose slightly because this guy was so much like Bjorn, except Bjorn would actually bring all of his shit with him. Every last can of hairspray. So would Lars if he were travelling to another country. Fuck, this guy was trashy and reckless too. Ulrik just giggled at his band mate's reaction to his trashy brother as they began their walk towards the taxis. Getting back to the hotel was the first port of call for all of them. Sven needed to check into his room. The singer adjusted his bandanna as they hailed a taxi down and jumped inside, Sigured paying the man in advance just in case Sven spilled any booze inside the taxi. Shit with rock stars often happened.
"Hur många heta pojkar reser med dig då? Ulrik har berättat om några. (So, how many hot boys are travelling with you then? Ulrik's told me about a few.)"
Oh god. Here we go. Ulrik just blushed a deep red at Sven's words regarding all the hot boys travelling on the tour. What was he to say? There were so many and so many were taken. Almost all of them except a few on the fence or not quite making the connections yet. Sven was trash so this would be more than awkward because he was the type of boy to hit on a taken man. His type being feminine boys and soft masculine.
"Fler tas, broder. Jag sa, minns du? Men det finns några som är singlar. Alla är heta och mest som andra pojkar utom den udda en eller två som är hetero.(Most are taken, brother. I did say, remember? But there are some who are single. All are hot and most like other boys except the odd one or two who are straight.)"
Ulrik trying to tell his brother this in the best possible way. Sigurd just staying out of the conversation entirely because he had his mind set on the bratty Dane. Mikkel. Oh fuck---what if Sven hit on him? There would be hell to pay. Or if Mikkel hit on Sven? Shit. Sigurd didn't even want to think about that. At all. It hurt. The taxi soon pulled into the hotel carpark as all three rock stars got out and headed into the hotel. Sven soon checked in and headed towards the bar instantly. He was fucking thirsty! Sigurd and Ulrik following to keep him company.
"We use English here because there are others staying from the UK. It's a bit easier that way."
Sigurd telling Sven just so that he knew if the Brits were around at the bar. Once they got there a few of the rock stars were there drinking and talking. No smashed ones yet since it was still only 10.00am. Even too early for Joe or Aarne to be smashed. Bjorn was no doubt back at Rekker's Hills mansion and Lars outdoors somewhere with Devon. A young dark-haired boy carrying a sketchpad came up to greet the new tall blond.
"Hello there! You're new. Are you related to Bjorn? You look similar."
Sven giggling rather girlishly, even though he was quite masculine in height and stature. The clothing and hair giving off his feminine air. Pinching the young guitarist's cheek, he smirked. Oh, this one was cute! There was also a blond haired man who wore leopard print too. He was fucking hot! Was he taken? So what if he was---Sven wanted to meet everyone! Ulrik had to intervene before people got angry for his brother hitting on everyone.
"This is Erik Ivarsson and him over there is Hunter, his older brother. Both are taken, Sven. You'll have to look elsewhere."
The singer huffed and then ruffled up Erik's hair before going to the bar and offering up Hunter a wink. The younger Swede just stared and then began giggling himself because it was amusing. Buying himself a large bottle of whiskey, Sven then began chugging straight out of the bottle because fuck! He was thirsty. The plane ride really had taken it out of him. Sigurd was watching Sven like a hawk now because this one was dynamite. Trouble. He might even start a fight if he hit on everyone who was taken. Ulrik knew he'd have to step in but he couldn't be everywhere Sven was at all times. It would be hard but they'd have to try and do their best.
Otherwise it could be a shit show.
Ulrik's trashy older brother, Sven, was now getting off the plane at LA airport and embracing his baby brother in a drunken hug. Oh god. The older blond reeked of booze and was drunk, having no doubt filled himself with in flight booze, of course he had. Laughing, Ulrik patted Sven on the back and then pulled his bleached blond hair in a playful manner because it had been what? A few months since he saw his brother since starting the LA tour with Blixt and the other bands. Sigurd was standing next to Ulrik and took in Sven's appearance; drunk, wearing tight black leather pants, a black jacket with tears in the seams and bright neon boots made with fake crocodile and a red bandanna across his head. Of course. What trash. The all spoke in their mother tongue as they greeted each other.
"Det är kul att se dig igen, broder. (It's good to see you again, brother.)"
Sven reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of booze, which was whiskey by the looks of it. Had he bought that on the plane? Fuck knew. Ulrik rolled his eyes because he knew all about the trashy singer's habits with booze and they weren't the best. Bjorn was back at the Strip spending time with his ginger since he was spending more and more time with Rekker. Both Ulrik and Sigurd thought it was the best thing for their band leader. Lars was out somewhere following poor Devon around but everyone thought it was cute.
"Flygflyget var så jävla tråkigt! Vi går till en klubb och kör åt helvete. (The plane flight was so fucking boring! Let's go to a club right now and get fucked.)"
Sigurd just stared at Sven and sighed. Oh great----another Bjorn. This wouldn't end well because Sven looked trashy as hell and was drunk just getting off the plane. Now he wanted to hit the town and get smashed even before checking into the hotel. Did the man even bring stuff with him? Clothes? Possessions? Sigurd couldn't see any.
"Var är alla dina kläder, Sven? Har du glömt att ta med dem? (Where are all your clothes, Sven? Did you forget to bring them?)"
The singer shot Sigurd an amused smirk as he took a few quick swigs of booze before shoving the bottle back into his jacket. This guy was the bassist and he knew all about him from what Ulrik had told him. The band dad. That was just the cutest!
"Hej, pappa pojke! Ta det lugnt. Jag behöver inte ta med skit eftersom jag bara köper nya kläder här i L.A. Fan, ja. (Hey, daddy boy! Chill the fuck out. I don't need to bring shit since I'll just buy new clothes here in LA. Fuck yeah.)"
At those words, Sigurd just pinched his nose slightly because this guy was so much like Bjorn, except Bjorn would actually bring all of his shit with him. Every last can of hairspray. So would Lars if he were travelling to another country. Fuck, this guy was trashy and reckless too. Ulrik just giggled at his band mate's reaction to his trashy brother as they began their walk towards the taxis. Getting back to the hotel was the first port of call for all of them. Sven needed to check into his room. The singer adjusted his bandanna as they hailed a taxi down and jumped inside, Sigured paying the man in advance just in case Sven spilled any booze inside the taxi. Shit with rock stars often happened.
"Hur många heta pojkar reser med dig då? Ulrik har berättat om några. (So, how many hot boys are travelling with you then? Ulrik's told me about a few.)"
Oh god. Here we go. Ulrik just blushed a deep red at Sven's words regarding all the hot boys travelling on the tour. What was he to say? There were so many and so many were taken. Almost all of them except a few on the fence or not quite making the connections yet. Sven was trash so this would be more than awkward because he was the type of boy to hit on a taken man. His type being feminine boys and soft masculine.
"Fler tas, broder. Jag sa, minns du? Men det finns några som är singlar. Alla är heta och mest som andra pojkar utom den udda en eller två som är hetero.(Most are taken, brother. I did say, remember? But there are some who are single. All are hot and most like other boys except the odd one or two who are straight.)"
Ulrik trying to tell his brother this in the best possible way. Sigurd just staying out of the conversation entirely because he had his mind set on the bratty Dane. Mikkel. Oh fuck---what if Sven hit on him? There would be hell to pay. Or if Mikkel hit on Sven? Shit. Sigurd didn't even want to think about that. At all. It hurt. The taxi soon pulled into the hotel carpark as all three rock stars got out and headed into the hotel. Sven soon checked in and headed towards the bar instantly. He was fucking thirsty! Sigurd and Ulrik following to keep him company.
"We use English here because there are others staying from the UK. It's a bit easier that way."
Sigurd telling Sven just so that he knew if the Brits were around at the bar. Once they got there a few of the rock stars were there drinking and talking. No smashed ones yet since it was still only 10.00am. Even too early for Joe or Aarne to be smashed. Bjorn was no doubt back at Rekker's Hills mansion and Lars outdoors somewhere with Devon. A young dark-haired boy carrying a sketchpad came up to greet the new tall blond.
"Hello there! You're new. Are you related to Bjorn? You look similar."
Sven giggling rather girlishly, even though he was quite masculine in height and stature. The clothing and hair giving off his feminine air. Pinching the young guitarist's cheek, he smirked. Oh, this one was cute! There was also a blond haired man who wore leopard print too. He was fucking hot! Was he taken? So what if he was---Sven wanted to meet everyone! Ulrik had to intervene before people got angry for his brother hitting on everyone.
"This is Erik Ivarsson and him over there is Hunter, his older brother. Both are taken, Sven. You'll have to look elsewhere."
The singer huffed and then ruffled up Erik's hair before going to the bar and offering up Hunter a wink. The younger Swede just stared and then began giggling himself because it was amusing. Buying himself a large bottle of whiskey, Sven then began chugging straight out of the bottle because fuck! He was thirsty. The plane ride really had taken it out of him. Sigurd was watching Sven like a hawk now because this one was dynamite. Trouble. He might even start a fight if he hit on everyone who was taken. Ulrik knew he'd have to step in but he couldn't be everywhere Sven was at all times. It would be hard but they'd have to try and do their best.
Otherwise it could be a shit show.
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"This is Sven, Ulrik's brother." Aarne explained to Joe before flipping back to Finnish. "Britit ovat kaikki hyvin.... kateellisia. He eivät ole tottuneet vapauksiin, joita meidän on oltava kenen kanssa haluamme. Se tekee heistä aggressiivisia nyt, kun he voivat olla kenen kanssa, joka tekee heidät onnelliseksi. Ole varovainen. He ryhtyvät puolustautumaan."
Aaren thought maybe he should cut this off before it got out of hand. Damien had watched Jack leave but was listening. He didn't know the language but he could read body language well enough to see what he didn't get from the words. He started over toward the bar with Ulrik. He didn't really want to deal with this guy but he also knew he was escort and security for the bands. He needed to make sure this wasn't going to start a brawl.
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"Mustasukkainen ja omistushaluinen? Olen kuullut, että britit ovat konservatiivisempia seksinäkemyksissään. Mitä tahansa. Se sopii minulle ja olen täällä vain pitääkseni hauskaa."
Sven didn't want trouble and was too tired to get into fights and arguments so just patted Joe and Aarne on the arm and then found himself being tugged back towards the bar. Fuck! Baby brother was now being irritating....but there was the long legged blond with them now. He was hot too.
"Hey, sweets. Are you Scandinavian too? Your legs are out of this world."
The Swede directed his question at Damien as he now leant up against the bar downing the rest of the Jack and sliding the empty bottle along.
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"No." Damien tells him with his odd New Jersey accent, odd because it wasn't from this world, time, whatever it was. "I'm from ... New York City."
He almost said Hunger City but didn't wand to get into that, especially not with a loud mouth drunk.
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"Behave. Minns du vad jag sa? Var inte en jävla flörtig jävel med allt som har kuk och stake."
The young guitarist switching to Swedish just so Sven caught the message without being rude to Damien. The trashy singer laughed and the got his brother into a headlock, mussing up his mop of dirty blond hair.
"New York? You're my first American I've met so far. What do you do here, sweets?"
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"Security." Damien pulled out the .50 caliber revolver from under his jacket and set it heavily on the bar top. "I'd watch yourself. Not everyone is as forgiving as you just got from the trash twins."
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"A real gun! I've never seen one up close like this before. Only in films on the cinema."
The young Swede looking up at Damien with respect and some fear because this man could actually kill someone if he wanted. Sven though, he was being a cocky asshole as usual and ruffled up his brother's hair.
"Do not worry, little brother. He won't shoot your ass for eyeing up the ginger girl's tits and pussy."
Ulrik frowned then punched Sven in the guts hard for being a rude fuckhead. He liked Dee a lot and didn't like anyone making fun of her, especially not trashy older brothers.
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Damien laughed and glanced over at Ulrik. "I wouldn't care. I don't date women and she looks tough enough to hand both of you your asses if she wanted." Damien made a point of watching, and if he could meeting, every new person who joined the musicians. Dee might be small but she was scrappy. He knew the type. There were plenty of them back home among the Dogs.
He gave Sven a side eye and then shook his head. "And before you start, you're not my type, if anything... your younger brother would be if I was still single." Damien thought it best to just clear that whole mess out of the air before anything got off on the wrong foot. It also might get the younger one blushing which Damien wouldn't mind. He adored Zack but could definitely see why Dee found Ulrik so charming.
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"Calm down, Leggy. I'm not here to start shit. Can't a man flirt a little harmlessly? My brother is---"
Then the punch came which caused Sven to gasp and then clutch his stomach because fuck! His baby brother could punch when he wanted to. Choking a laugh, Sven then grabbed some drink and swallowed ruffling Ulrik's hair playfully. So, he really did have it bad for the ginger chick. That was cute.
"--my brother is a fucking angry bastard when I insult his ginger girl I see. Lugna ner lillebror."
Sven using his native tongue which was more or less calm down. Ulrik offering the finger and then blushing at what Damien said.
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The punch got a hearty laugh from the Dog. Damien saw a lot of this roughhousing in the Dogs since they were all so young, many teenagers or around the ages of these musicians.
"Any good person would give someone a sharp jab for insulting their partner." Damien certainly would and he knew quite a number of the others would as well without a hitch.
Taking a drink of his juice Damien grinned. "I hope you don't start shit, then it becomes my problem and I would really rather not have to kick your ass before I get to know you." The Dog is only partially serious and more prodding at the drunk in a way that might get him to think before doing.
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Ulrik just elbowed Sven in the guts and heard the singer laugh. Brotherly love at it's best. As for this Damien? He was a long-legged bastard who seemed to be one to watch out for when the shit went down. The man had a gun. That in itself was a clear message to back the fuck off or get shot. Either way the Swede wouldn't be starting any shit with Damien or anyone else since he wanted to play it cool and blend in.
"I'm here to have fun, sweets. Not to pick fights. My brother is just pissed at me because I stopped off at a strip club on the way here."
He might have been a bit late? Ok, a lot.
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That had Damien laughing. "I've worked security in plenty of strip clubs. You must have seen something worth staying for a few drinks." He waved the bartender over for another drink. The unspoken question was mere curiosity and something to talk about.
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The trashy Swede winked at Damien and then got himself another drink, which was a bottle of vodka and a fresh glass. He was going to get smashed tonight because this was his first real night in the American city and making friends and having fun was all it was about. Ulrik just watching his older brother carefully making sure he wouldn't start any drunken shit with the others.
"It's ok, liten ulv. I'll behave. Promise."
Sven bopping Ulrik on the nose with his finger.
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The best kind of danger as far as the Dog was concerned. He wasn't about to hide his attraction to younger men and he could see why the Swede got so distracted he arrived here late. He passed his empty glass to Sven who now had a whole bottle of Vodka. Damien didn't usually drink but one night couldn't hurt any.
"If he doesn't, I'll kick his ass." Damien smirked at Ulrik, less serious about the ass kicking but definitely serious that he would take care of it.
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Sven nudging Ulrik in the ribs gently, noticing the younger Swede giving him the finger but smiling none the less. The guitarist was a little drunk but not as trashed as Sven was here. Where the fuck had he gotten to? A strip club? That would explain it all. Why couldn't he have just gotten off the plane and met up with his brother like he had asked? This was Sven all over.
"Ooh, is that so, sweets? No doubt you could with those long giraffe legs of yours and that mean look you have. I'm only here for fun, not fights. Booze and fun. This tour looks fun so far. Is this Ziggy guy around anywhere? Is he the one who started this crazy tour?"
Sven running off at the mouth because he was drunk after having shots of vodka back at the club followed by downing almost a whole bottle by himself after that. Mikkel was the name of the stripper wasn't it? The hot boy he'd tipped booze all over. Fucking hot Dane.
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"It's my job." Damien reminded him with a laugh before downing half of the newly poured drink. "I'd rather keep tonight as an off day. Last I saw of Ziggy he was down in the restaurant with the Danes and the crazy Fin, probably eating the place out of food." Damien glanced up at the clock over the bar. "It's that time of the night."
Everyone had routines. Being security, like Robert, he had taken the time to learn routines so he could notice someone's absence of anything off more easily.
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"You're the muscle here then, sweets? Long legged giraffe with piercing eyes and expert reflexes with that piece you've got hidden. I've known muscle boys myself working on the streets. But you---you're different to the rest."
There was something about Damien that threw the Swede off but he just shrugged. Any tour needed muscle and Damien certainly seemed the type to put a bullet between someone's eyes if they fucked anyone off here. Meeting Ziggy and the rest of the band members though? Sven was determined to do this.
"It's that time of night? Do you mean people have rituals and shit here? Eat at this time, fuck at this time sort of thing?"
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He mentioned when he saw Ulrik looking around. That look was a common one, where is my lover. Some were more nervous than others about being separated. "I grew up in the military but I've taken up the other side the past few years."
Hell, that was an understatement but he didn't feel like delving into the ideologies of his world. Sven was correct though, he would put a bullet in someone for coming after any of the musicians.
"With all these hot and horny young men around there's always fucking going on." Damien snorted a laugh but there were routines, ebbs of mood for individuals and just the group as a whole. "Some of the bands don't sleep well or have schedules on their heads. Routines are important when there are real threats around."
Fights, people trying to bust in, stabbings, people just being assholes.. Damien was wary and watchful always. "The sleepless ones; after a show come back and shower, hang around and drink or sex, then right around this time get hungry."
He knew most people's routines, either personally or from talking with Tom and Robert. The three of them took shifts and Damien was used to overnights, more comfortable with them. Tom relieved him, especially now that Robert spent his mornings with Erik, then Robert took over around show times because he was the driver.
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Sven just shrugged and drank his drink wondering what the other tour members were like. Being security, Damien must see everything that went on inside the hotel. All the crazy shit that happened around rock stars. The good, the bad and the ugly.
"I like having a good time, good booze and rolling into bed whenever the fuck I want usually."
As for sex? Sven wasn't so bothered as others about that since groupies were always overrated anyway. Sven wasn't into women at all so it didn't bother him so much. Offering Ulrik another hair ruffle the older Swede smirked.
"At least my little brother here is being kept out of any serious trouble now he has a hot girl in his bed."
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The Dog tried to think if he had seen many at all and he couldn't recall any. A few autographs or something in the lobby but not in rooms.
"Robert is a taskmaster when we have to travel. Whenever you want turns into whenever he wants you out of bed." Damien laughed because more than once the two older Brits had raised hell about people refusing to get out of bed.
"I'm sure he gets into trouble with her. She's a feisty punk and I heard they got into a fight at a bar with Hexed." Damien kept track of things and listened to rumors. He'd heard about Rekker throwing people and stored that away in case shit went down and he needed backup. The punks and the ginger were it.
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Sven just laughed and noticed Ulrik giving his brother a middle finger. Ulrik was so cute and now he had a hot ginger in his bed! Naughty boy. The older Swede drank some of his drink and then shot a look to Ulrik, gasping in surprise.
"What? A fight in a bar with Hexed? Did you punch anyone, little brother? I bet your punk girl kicked some fucking ass. Did you slide under the table drunk? Because I know you always do that after drinking too much."
Ulrik sighed and then punched Sven's arm, smiling though. The young boy couldn't hold his booze well and always ended up sliding underneath the table.
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Damien started laughing. "I'm sure it won't be the last. I've heard Hexed is as scrappy as the punks."
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Sven was a little surprised joining a tour of rock stars now knowing none liked women groupies. Oh well, that made it a less complicated. The Swede himself was gay and preferred the company of men his age anyway.
"All my band are currently single at the moment, even my drunk guitarist and cute bassist."
The singer laughed and then felt Ulrik jab him in the ribs just because he could.
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Damien was well aware how sideways things could go sometimes. His skills from home came in handy here on the tour. Damien started to laugh.
"I'm sure it won't last long seeing how fast your brother, and the others, have found people to keep them happy in bed." Damien had to tease the younger man a little too.
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Ulrik just stared at his brother and snorted at the word bimbo. Damien's words got the young Swede going wide-eyed slightly though because Dee was special to him in so many ways. He'd never dated an older girl before and found it exciting.
"Dee is so pretty and fiesty. I really like her."
Sven ruffled up his brother's hair and took a gulp of drink. It was cute his baby bro had found a cute girl to cuddle up with. A ginger punk.
"Is it because you're getting ginger pussy all night?"
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That was the truth, probably for everyone. Damien snorted out a laugh and got another drink, which was unusual for him but he was off for the night. Now was his only chance.
"I'm not into women but if I was, she's pretty. Do you get tangled up in all those curls?" Damien started to laugh because he sure the hell ended up tangled in Zack's, or they ended up tangled in each other's hair.
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