Bang!

Insidethe house, Björn had probably jumped or winced at the sound. Serves him right, Preben thought. Tears were still burning in his eyes while he paced down the driveway, into the city. His destination was the local pub, where they served cheap beer that tasted strange, but for now, it was fine. It would be loud, it would smell like cigarettes, alcohol and sweaty bodies, but it was fine. The music would be horrible and the people would be grouchy, perhaps even someone would try to flirt with him, but that was fine. Even if he would be kicked out by the bartender, it would be fine. It didn't matter. The Dane wanted to drown away the fight that had shooed him out of the house he shared with his lover. He didn't care what he would be drinking, as long as it contained alcohol and didn't taste like horse piss, he didn't care. Whether it would be on the beach, in a forest, in someone's attic or underneath a bridge, it didn't matter. Who he would be with, who would be serving the drinks, what they would be lolling into his ears, it didn't matter. He wanted to get drunk, forget about his life, forget about the man that he called his lover.

With his mind still set on the fight that had happened and the emotions it had triggered inside of him, Preben walked through the streaks of water that were falling from the skies. He didn't mind them, they concealed the water that was falling from his eyes and it excused the redness that settled underneath his skin. With a sigh, he brushed away a strand of stubborn hair that had finally given in under the pressure of the water, sticking to his forehead and almost pocking into his left eye. Why did it always turn out like this? What had happened between him and Björn? They used to be so in love, so happy together. The Dane didn't even remember when the fights had started. Perhaps somewhere last year? It was probably when they started living together, last year September. That was 14 months ago, Preben realised in shock.

Because he was thinking about anything but paying attention to his surroundings, the tall Dane failed to notice the small man walking towards him, head low and just as wet as he was. And thus, to anyone observing the situation, it was not that strange to see the two blond males bump into each other, the smaller one tumbling onto the wet grey stones. Both of them were ripped out of their sorrows, Preben's eyes widening with shock when he noticed the other person sitting on the wet ground. For a brief moment, he stood there, taking in the sight, mouth agape. Then, he closed it again, only to open it within the blink of an eye, words spilling out as if someone had turned on the faucet.

"I am so terribly sorry; I didn't see you because I was lost in thoughts. It's also kind of dark outside, don't you think? I'm sorry, I know I'm a klutz, but this tops it all." He reached out his hand to the man whose bottom was uncomfortably resting on the hard sidewalk, pants getting wet. When the figure didn't respond, nor move, Preben squatted down, looking at the face that was hidden by the fringe of pale blond hair.

"Are you okay?", he inquired, voice soft, as not to startle the seemingly distressed person in front of him.

The man still didn't respond, eyes glued to nothing in particular, cheeks stained red. Glimmering stains covered them, indicating that he had been crying. Something seemed to make him snap out of his daydreams and he looked at the Dane in front of him, deep azure eyes widening in shock.

"I… Uh..." Confused, the male looked around, unable to recognise the neighbourhood he had walked into. The other let a small grin appear on his face, forgetting about his own sad situation for a while.
"Do you have anywhere to be? I was heading to the bar. If ya want, I can buy you a drink as an apology, what do ya say? Name's Preben, by the way", he told the smaller one, who was still sitting on the cold stones. Accepting the once again offered hand, the man let Preben drag him back onto his feet, dusting off his wet clothes afterwards.

"Sindre", he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He had been so caught up in his own troubles, his self-pity, that he couldn't remember how he had made it here. Where he had gone, when he had taken which turn. For now, he could stick with the other man who had started to talk about himself, telling him that he had just been in a fight with his lover.

'Great', Sindre thought. 'Another lovesick person with troubles.' He was drenched and freezing and wanted to get out of the rain as soon as possible, away from the memories that haunted him, away from the heart wrenching feeling that had taken over him as soon as he had left home. Home… He probably was never going to go back there now.

"So, what made you get out in this dreadful weather", Preben asked, tugging the Norwegian out of his thoughts. 'I could ask you the same question', he thought, shivering in his coat and hiding his mouth behind the collar.

"My boyfriend broke up with me." There was no love in the words. Only venom that made Preben shiver. This was not someone you wanted to be very angry with you, he concluded from that, digging his fists into his pockets.

"Sucks."

"Yeah."

To be honest, it wasn't the break-up that had fazed the Norwegian male. He had seen the signs way before Heikki had even mentioned anything. One day, the Finn had left home for his new job, only to return hours later with a content blush on his face, eyes sparkling in a way Sindre had not seen in a long time. Their relationship had already cooled down after a mere four and a half months. Why they had stayed together for another two and a half, was something Sindre didn't want to think about. One, there was the house that had rented together. Like most things in their relationship, Heikki had rushed with that as well, knowing that his stoic lover would not be able to resist his cute smile and puffy cheeks. It had been very convenient though, he no longer had to share his house with junkies and alcoholics, who returned in the dead of night, tearing down things and starting fights. It was a lot more peaceful for them.

No, the reason that he was in such a state now, was because the cute Finn had fallen in love with someone who seemed so perfect, so caring and so… lovable. So much better than Sindre, so much more fitting than Sindre. It made the lithe man so insecure. Night after night he had tossed and turned the question in his mind before. What if he was not good enough for the small Finn? Of course, their relationship had been slightly frozen over already at that point. They rarely made love, kissed or even cuddled. Dinners were eaten separately, neither of them waited for the other. The only thing they shared, was their bed. Again and again, the older of the two had blamed himself. Again and again, he told himself to be more open, to flirt more, to initiate things and start the seduction, to cuddle and talk to his lover. But it was so difficult for him, he was so scared of rejection, scared of what the other would think. In the end, that was probably why Heikki had fallen in love with his co-worker.

The rest of their walk to the pub was in silence. Both men were focussed on their own thoughts and insecurities, playing scenes from that day in their minds. For Preben, it was nothing new to have a fall out with Björn. He couldn't remember how many times he had walked this same path in the past two months. Probably more often than he could count on his two hands. Maybe he should start tracking it? But then again, today was the tenth of October and he had been here 3 times already. Or was it four? It was depressing, to say the least.

Their fights started because of the weirdest things. Today, it had been because Preben had not put his phone on silent while they were making dinner. His boss had called him, asking whether he could take over Daan's shift that Wednesday, to which he said yes. Björn had been angry because of the phone call. It had disturbed him.

"You are always on that stupid phone. All the time, someone texts you, calls you. Never do I have you for myself", he grumbled when the Dane returned, immediately wrapping him in his strong arms. He was used to that behaviour from the Swede by now. It wasn't something he could help. For some reason, something that had happened in their past, Björn had become very possessive when it came to Preben.

In the beginning, it hadn't bothered him. He had been happy when the tall Swede became jealous and lavished him with kisses, demanding his attention. But after a few months, the possessiveness became more intense, up until Preben was not allowed to go where he wanted without telling the other about his plans. Björn held him more and more captive, almost figuratively chaining them together. Every time the Dane would visit his Dutch co-worker, he would be marked, bitten and roughly loved when he returned. The next morning, he would be sore and Björn would be very clingy. It was so not like them.

Preben was usually a very cheery person, always in for cuddles, seemingly needing them to function. He would always touch someone's shoulder, pat their back or straight up hug them when he was around them. Much to Daan's dismay, he had to say that. But whenever Björn wanted to be close, it made his hairs stand up. It was nothing like the tall Swede to do that, to even hang around people like Preben. The blond was closed off, sometimes a little intimidating and generally very bad with people. The Dane was too hyper to his liking, never wanting to stay in or stay in one place for longer than three hours. He was always moving, always in for some kind of mischief. Much like a child. Björn on the other hand, was looking for something romantic, someone to cuddle with at the fireplace, someone to dote on and spoil. But his lover preferred his own space, doing his own things. He always insisted he could do things himself. After their fights had started to become more frequent, they had arguments about that as well. It bothered the Dane that his Swedish sweetheart would hold the door open for him every time, refused to let him carry grocery bags and so on. If things had gone Björn's way, he would even answer every call Preben received.

He had sighed when the Swede had captured him in his arms after returning from the phone call, prying the large hands off his chest.

"Of course you have me for yourself, I just have my own life. There's a job I have to take care of, people that also need me. You're not the only person in this universe. You're not the centre of my world", Preben had said, his voice a little rougher than he had intended it to be. It had hurt the other. Bothered the other.

"So you don't care about me, then? Fine, go ahead. Go and hang out with Daan, be his boyfriend for all I care. You don't, so why should I?" It had not been fair towards the Dane, but right now, Björn didn't want to be fair, Preben could see that. He had tried to fix it. Gently taking his taller lover into his arms, kissing the cheeks that were turned towards him in an attempt to stop him from kissing the Swede's angry lips.

"I do care. I love you, how could I not care about you? They just needed someone to take care of someone else's shift and they asked me."

"Can't they ask someone else?" The pout had not suited the very tall and manly Swede and Preben had almost laughed at the sight. Almost. Instead, he had remained silent, not knowing what to say. Of course his boss could have asked someone else, there were other people who also worked at the swimming pool. But it was widely known that the Dane was one of the best coaches, not only because he managed to handle the loud and lively children very well.

"I don't want you to go. Tell them you can't go. That your mother fell sick." Preben had clenched his jaw when Björn had spoken. It was ridiculous. Not only because his mother had passed away three years ago, but also because they were both grown men and both had the right to work. Thus, the Dane had refused. And started a fight. Björn had continued telling and persuading him to cancel work, Preben had named argument after argument why he could not and did not want to do that. Eventually, they had started shouting. Nasty names and glares were thrown at each other. Later, Björn had thrown something, Preben did not remember what, and it had broken. Fuming with rage, he had punched the wall, drawing blood and leaving behind a red stain. Then, he had fled from the house, slamming the door shut, eventually bumping into Sindre, which had lead them to where they were now, inside a crowded and loud bar.

Both men had a beverage in front of them. Within a mere moment, they had chugged the golden liquid down, setting the glasses back onto the hard wood with a heavy thud, drawing the attention from the man in charge of giving them their drinks. The brunet raised an eyebrow, but walked over anyway, after adjusting his glasses.

"Would the two gentlemen fancy another drink", he asked, tossing the dishcloth onto his shoulder. The two on the barstools nodded, waiting impatiently for the beers to be set down in front of them.

"So", the Dane said after emptying the glass' content into his mouth in the blink of an eye. "Want to talk about what happened to you and your lover, or do you need a few more rounds for that. Sindre shrugged, looking up from his own beer. Preben took the silence as a sign to order another round, heaving his hand towards the bartender. The man only shook his head, grabbing another pair of tall beer glasses. The Norwegian decided to go with the flow, downing his beer in one go.

"You're not bad", the tall blond said, smacking the Norwegian on his back. There were only a few people that could drink very well, according to Preben. And by well, he meant that they could down a beer in less than four seconds. One of them was Preben himself. Other people were Gilbert, a loud and somewhat egocentric but very nice German and Daan, his Dutch colleague. Björn had also proven himself to be worthy of that title, but the Swede preferred not to drink that much, so they rarely went out together.

Again, Sindre shrugged, accepting the next beer from the barman.

"If you are planning on starting a fight later on, I advise you not to", he commented, pointing to the bouncer standing in the corner. Preben noticed that the bartender's fingernails were cut very neatly, almost like a girl's. Odd. He then let his eyes travel to the short blond, looking him over and waging his chances. The man didn't seem like much, but the cold look he gave the Dane told otherwise. The man would not be afraid to use a lot of force, Preben thought while carefully sipping his beer. Next to him, the Norwegian told the bartender that they had no intentions to start a fight, but that they would keep it in mind in case one of them did.

"Feeling like talking yet", the Dane asked after the prissy bartender had left again. With a sigh, the Norwegian turned to his companion, putting down the drink and rubbing his temples. Honestly, he didn't want to talk. He didn't want to explain what had been going on between him and Heikki. It was none of the other's business, whatever his name was. They had met barely three drinks ago and they only knew their names. Kind of. Sindre wasn't very good with names. Why would he spill his secrets, tell what bothered him? He had never told anyone his exact thoughts and he was not planning on doing it either.

So why did he end up talking to Preben after three more drinks? Why did he tell him everything, from the day he had met Heikki at a concert, their first date at the mall where they had bought matching socks, to the event from today, where the usually cheerful and smiling Finn had sat both of them down, nervous and slightly serious look on his face? Why did he sketch out how he had felt when his lover had told him that his romantic feelings had evolved into friendship, that he had met someone he wanted to try starting a relationship with? Why had he cried in the arms of a stranger, inhaling the pleasant smell of cologne and alcohol?

All those questions turned around in his head as he followed Preben to a nearby hotel, both not wishing to spend the night at their respective homes. The receptionist didn't question them but just handed the keys, wishing them a pleasant stay. Sindre mentally scoffed at that. With the amount of beer and akvavit they had consumed, they probably would be feeling horrible by the time they woke up. They rode the elevator in silence, both looking at a seemingly very interesting spot on the wall. When the bell sounded, announcing their arrival at the right floor, Sindre looked at the Dane, examining his features. He had freckles. They were not very prominent, just light spots, but they were still there, scattered over his nose and cheeks. His eyes were blue. Blue like the winter sky that Sindre loved so much. They didn't seem very happy right now, but the Norwegian was sure that on any other occasion, they would be full of joy.

Trailering his gaze lower, he noticed the little shadow of blond stubbles on the man's jaw, making him seem a little older than he probably was. Sindre couldn't know, he hadn't asked the other's age. His lips seemed soft, very plump. They were also a light pink, kind of like a peach. And then, there was his hair. It was blond, like the strands of hay that had covered the floor of the stables he used to roam when he was younger. But that wasn't what was special about it. It was styled in the wildest crest the man had ever seen. How many pots of gel and hair product would his new drinking buddy use on a daily basis? Let alone in a month?

Sindre was pulled out of his thoughts when Preben walked out of the elevator, heading for room number 26. He followed behind quickly, feeling the alcohol cloud his mind and view. They tumbled into the room, sexually harassing the wall in search for the light switch. When it finally was stroked by Preben's fingers, it took them a little while to get used to the brightness filling the room. When their tired eyes finally adjusted, the noticed that there was only one bed in the room. The Dane was the first comment on the problem at hand.

"Well… I guess I'll sleep on the couch, don't you think, honey?" He added a wink to the comment, trying to make it clear that it was a joke. The eye roll from his 'honey' told him that the other had understood.

"Yeah, your own fault. Shouldn't have eaten all the strawberries in the house", Sindre joked back, letting a small smile grace his lips.

They settled in quickly, putting the extra blanket and pillow on the sofa. While Sindre got undressed, he felt his insecurities take over again. He had never felt beautiful or handsome, so when he stripped of layer after layer, exposing his body and worrying about his weight, he felt tears well up in his eyes again. 'I am such a messed up and ugly person', he thought while he climbed into the bed, careful not to stare at the other man in the room for too long. When he also had crawled under his blankets, the Norwegian turned off the light, whispering a 'Good night' into the darkness. The wish was returned and soon the heavy sighs of a sleeping person filled the room. When he was sure the other was really in the realm of dreams, the Norwegian let his demons loose again.

They whispered to him, grabbing him and dragging him into their realm. "You're worthless", they whispered. "Your body is ugly, your boyfriend never loved you. This guy on the sofa thinks you're a bother, you're fat, why are you even here? Why don't you just run, why do you even stay here? No one cares about you, just leave." The longer they whispered, the louder their voiced seemed to get, the better they became at convincing him of their right. Why was he here? They whispered more and more into his ears, driving him insane, pulling tears out of his tired eyes. He was exhausted. He didn't want to fight it anymore.

Hiding his face in the pillow, he let the sobs wash over him, wreck his body and let them make him shiver and shake. His breath was ragged, cheeks wet with tears. Knuckles were turning white from the pressure he added on them while clutching the sheets, searching for some kind of comfort. He was lost in his world, scared and unable to stop hyperventilating. The edge of his vision started to become blurry, dark. Starts were dancing in front of him and his body started to ache in need of more oxygen. He was scared, so very scared. Lost in his sorrow, he didn't notice the other stirring awake, walking over and climbing into the bed. Only when he felt something warm pressed against his bare back, arms sneak around him, did Sindre realise Preben had woken up.

"Shh", he soothed, gently caressing the other's hair, gripping the hands that were almost tearing the sheets apart and squeezing them gently. "Shh, it's okay. Breathe in, and out…. Breathe in… And out… That's it, you're doing fine. In… and out…" He continued whispering into Sindre's ear and holding him close until he calmed down. Even when his sobs had stopped and his breathing was normal again, the Dane didn't leave. He just pressed a soft kiss to his sweaty hair and lulled him to sleep, still whispering to Sindre when to breathe in and out. They stayed like that until the morning came.

I just wanted to give you all a heads up, this is not going to be a DenSu/NorFin fanfiction. You will see later why.

~Hana