Platonic Soulmate, Not My Lover.
May. 10th, 2022 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oprorsk_sodeFor Nexus prompt 2. Sometimes, things really do get better. and the Platonic Intimacy List
The intimacy of answering the phone “Hey you.”
Mikkel didn’t like that Fredrik was away but Blixt and the Harlots were off in a nearby city doing a small promotional show. Mikkel was out of his mind with both Sigurd and Fredrik being away. He couldn’t sleep nor sit still. He’d seen Rekker earlier and he looked no better. The man looked like he hadn’t slept, maybe he hadn’t been able to either with Bjorn being away.
He was trying to lay down to sleep when the phone rang. He figured it was Ansgar again, lost and drunk. However, he lit up when he saw the caller ID said “boyfriend”. That wasn’t Sigurd. He had another name but this was the other person he was missing.
“HEY YOU!” Mikkel almost squealed when he heard the Swede drunkenly rambling on the other end of the line. He was a mess after the show and talking about how they were going to be back in the morning. Mikkel wondered if the Swede missed him too, but he didn’t dare ask. He was afraid of hearing no. It was the same reason he would never ask Sigurd that question either. Still, it felt so good to talk to Fredrik. The Dane had never had friends his own age that weren’t family, people who chose to be with him. This was the first time he’d ever had a friend to be away from.
He put Fredrik on speaker and poured a drink then laid down on the bed to drink and giggle, probably until one of them passed out. Most likely the Swede since he had a huge head start.
The intimacy of stopping to wait when someone needs to tie their shoe.
They were racing down the street at a full run and Mikkel was laughing because he was faster but also the Swede’s ability to run like this in boots with a lot of heel. He didn’t know why they broke into a run toward the hotel but it didn’t matter.
He was looking back at Fredrik when he stepped on his boot lace and almost went down. He froze, dropping to his knees to tie it. Fredrik got about six steps before he could stop and come back. He stood there panting and laughing.
“Come on!” Fredrik squatted down to ruffle the Dane’s hair then tickle his side. Mikkel squirmed and fell on his backside in the middle of the sidewalk trying to get away. Thankfully, his boot was tied when he leaned forward and got Fredrik’s sides and sent the other blonde running off again with Mikkel chasing him.
The intimacy of knowing when someone’s voice is thick with worry or sleep.
Mikkel didn’t want to be bothered and had hidden out in the bus while everyone else was in the hotel. Sigurd thought he was out dancing for the night, but the truth was he was worrying. He had his bass though and was plucking at it absently. For some reason tonight he was sure Sigurd was going to leave him. There were so many people around the bands the last few days and the young man couldn’t help but feel inadequate.
“There you are!”
Mikkel looked up in the dark to see Fredrik silhouetted in the middle aisle of the bus. He didn’t want to be bothered but forced a smile.
“How did you find me?” He asked as playfully as he could manage which fell so short of his normal cheer. Fredrik flopped down on the booth next to him.
“Did something bad happen?” Fredrik could hear it in Mikkel’s voice, even after this many drinks he could still hear it.
“Nothing… yet.” Mikkel sighed and set his bass aside.
“Yet?” Fredrik offered his friend the bottle because he needed a drink with how he sounded.
Mikkel took a drink while shrugging. “I think Sigurd’s going to leave me. I don’t know how to do anything right.”
Fredrik frowned and set the bottle aside before pulling Mikkel in for a hug. “He’s not. He loves you.”
The intimacy of singing (badly) with someone in the car.
Rekker wondered what he had done for karma to see fit that this was his evening. The two young blondes had called him from down in The Strip. Apparently, they had drank so much that they didn’t have the money to get a taxi back to the hotel, so Rekker became the taxi.
It would have been fine if they would stop singing. It was terrible, especially because he knew both of them were decent, at least back up singer quality. This was like dying cattle crossed with Beatlesmania screaming. He glanced up in the mirror and saw the two in the back clinging to each other, hugging and belting out some song in Danish, or maybe it was Swedish? Rekker had no idea but he did know bad singing when he heard it and this was some of the worst. On the bright side, at least they were still dressed.
The intimacy of huddling together under a shelter/umbrella.
Mikkel came dashing to the front of the bus with an umbrella when he saw Fredrik standing at the door staring out at the torrential rain. The bassist needed to get to the venue door without ruining his hair or outfit.
“I got this big umbrella from the back.” Mikkel pushed passed Fredrik and opened the umbrella out in the rain, holding it so Fredrik could get under it without the rain getting on him. The Swede was looking up at the umbrella and laughing. Mikkel looked up and saw that there was a huge Thor’s hammer on it.
“We can thank Hunter inside.” Mikkel giggled as Fredrik near jumped under the umbrella with him. The image on this umbrella was definitely the logo for the Hammers and Hunter was the only one in that group that wouldn’t run around in the rain on purpose. Fredrik slid his arm around Mikkel’s waist to get closer and the Dane kissed his cheek around the handle between them. Huddling under the umbrella together the two blondes made their way across the huge lot toward the backstage door.
The intimacy of instantly recognizing someone’s handwriting.
Mikkel came into the room and noticed the notepad by the phone. It had a bunch of things scrawled on it in a messy sort of handwriting, well messy but pretty. He knew the handwriting even if he didn’t read Swedish at all. It looked like a shopping list to the Dane.
Snatching it off the pad he ran down the hall to find Sigurd and make him read the list, if it was a list. Maybe Mikkel could surprise Fredrik by having all his forgotten list waiting for him when he got back from being out with the Harlots.
The intimacy of trying to make plans and, “Oh no we can’t, you’re working that day.”
“We should go to that movie.” Fredrik had paused at a poster on a store window.
“We’ve never gone to the movies.” Mikkel was staring at it because while he could read English some of these words, he hadn’t learned yet. Honestly, he’d never been to the movies with anyone.
“Who thinks of these?” Fredrik asked with a laugh that faded when he saw Mikkel’s face.
“We can’t.” He pointed at the date and time. “You’ll be on stage.”
Mikkel had memorized all the tour schedule weeks ago. He knew Fredrik would be busy and that sucked.
The intimacy of being there for someone as they cry.
Mikkel hated when he woke up crying but at least he was in the bed alone for once and Sigurd wouldn’t be upset by the tears from his nightmares. A few moments passed before he felt the bed bounce. Someone had climbed into it.
He looked up bleary eyed as a hand touched his shoulder and a riot of white hair fell in his face. “I heard you.”
Fredrik had been passed out in the other bed for a couple hours and must have just climbed into this one. Even in the dark Mikkel could tell the Swede was still exhausted and partially drunk. It was hard not to smile as the Dane wiped at his own cheeks.
“Scoot over.”
Mikkel obeyed as Fredrik slipped into the covers and put his arms around his friend. Mikkel didn’t hesitate and turned into that hug. He needed it so badly right now.
The intimacy of “How did you know that?” “Because I know you.”
“I can’t find my boots.”
Mikkel stared at the frantic Swede who was ripping the bus apart. “Are they in Rekker’s backseat?”
Fredrik paused to stare at the Dane. “How….?”
Mikkel shrugged. “I know how you are drunk with me. I don’t remember but you probably took them off on the way home.”
The intimacy of feeling someone’s warmth through their clothes when you hug.
Mikkel didn’t care about the sweat. He hadn’t seen the Harlots play yet because he was always working. However, tonight he had and he was now hugging Fredrik tightly, near bouncing.
“You’re so good. You spin around like Rik!” Mikkel buried himself against Fredrik’s damp clothing. He could feel the stage warmth radiating off of the Swede, especially when he wrapped his arms around Mikkel. Sure, he smelled a little, a lot, but the warmth and the happiness felt too good to be driven away by the smell.
The intimacy of being given change that’s warm from the heat of someone else’s hand.
They had stopped in the ice cream parlor which only made them both giggle. There were jokes between them involving ice cream that no one else knew.
“I always forget tax.” Fredrik sighed as he looked at the money in his hand. Back home prices had the tax in them already but in the US they added it to the price you saw. Mikkel stopped licking his cone to peer over the Swede’s shoulder and then at the price lit up on the register.
“Oh!” Mikkel shifted around to shove his hand down in his jean pocket. He pulled out some coins but honestly he was so new to being outside of Denmark that he didn’t know what most of them meant. He held them for a moment and then held them out to Fredrik. “Are these enough?”
Fredrik looked over and took a couple of the warm coins to hand over before giving the Dane a grateful peck on the cheek.
The intimacy of shared, comfortable silence.
They’d been talking for hours and for once sober as they sat on the roof of the hotel. Sure, they weren’t supposed to be up here but sometimes they needed away from the older musicians. The silence happened naturally as they leaned against each other looking out on Los Angeles.
Mikkel pulled up his legs and leaned into Fredrik and the arm around him. Mikkel could hear the muffle of people below but the two of them sat there in quiet and simply enjoyed it. Both boys were learning to be more than loud all the time.
The intimacy of knowing how someone would react.
“Mikkel, no!” Fredrik grabbed Mikkel’s arm as he walked toward one of the side rooms of the venue. The Swede had seen the women talking to Sigurd. All the musicians talked to fans of any gender, but he knew the Dane and how he felt. If he saw Sigurd in that room with those women, he would either get angry or heartbroken.
Mikkel’s stare shook Fredrik out of the thoughts, especially when the younger man started to wiggle. “I need you!”
“For what?” Mikkel stopped struggling to wait for his friend to answer.
Fredrik wasn’t prepared for answering and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We should hide all of Hjalmar’s booze.”
Mikkel started to giggle and grabbed on to Fredrik’s arm waiting to hear how this plan was supposed to work. The Dane no wiser to the crisis that the Swede had averted.
The intimacy of keeping the radio off when someone falls asleep on a long car journey.
Mikkel had been driving since he was too young to drive, thanks to Ollie. That was why he was driving in the middle of the night after he and Fredrik got an idea to try and go to all the clothing stores in this city in one day. Neither of them had kept track of how far they were from the hotel until things started closing up and Sigurd texted to see where they were. The dark haired bassist worried about the two far more than he needed to.
Mikkel was bored now that Fredrik had fallen asleep. He was slumped over, still in the seatbelt, but his head was on Mikkel’s thigh. He reached for the radio then thought better of it in case it would wake up the Swede. Instead Mikkel rolled down the window a little for the summer air and the sounds of the city to keep his mind busy.
The intimacy of sharing one earbud each.
Fredrik was sitting in the corner belting out something in Swedish. Mikkel thought the rhythm was good, but it couldn’t sound as bad as Fredrik was singing it. No one would pay to publish music that sounded that way.
The Dane came over and sat in the Swede’s lap before poking at him. Fredrik pulled one side of the earphones off to listen.
“What are you listening to?” Mikkel was interested and giggled some when Fredrik stuck the bud in his ear. It tickled at first to feel the bassist’s fingers on his ear.
“A Swedish band I like put out a new album.” Fredrik told him before starting the cassette tape up again.
Mikkel leaned in close to listen to this new band he hadn’t heard before.
The intimacy of inside jokes.
“Can Fredrik come along?” Mikkel approached the ginger cautiously. The older guitarist had invited him over to help him with his bass technique and he couldn’t resist trying to get his friend a chance too.
Rekker paused to stare at the Dane and then the expectant Swede while feeling like he could regret this. “Sure.”
“I told you he’d let you.” Mikkel elbowed the nervous Swede. "Don’t throw his bathroom at me.”
“What?” Rekker stopped packing up his guitar to face them.
Both young blondes giggling. Fredrik finally got his laughter stopped enough to answer. “I broke a hotel bathroom and threw the roll at Mikkel.”
“Drunk?” Rekker asked, because of course the two had been to break a bathroom. Rekker trying not to laugh himself. There was a time long ago that he was sure someone was having the same reaction to either him and Dee or him and Devon for the same kind of stunts. The blondes nodded and that got a chuckle from the Brit who went back to packing. “Don’t worry. There’s no booze at my house. My bathrooms safe from your drunken chaos. Just keep your clothes on. I don’t need the press thinking I have all the young blondes on this tour at my house undressed.”
Mikkel and Fredrik fell into each other laughing, partially embarrassed and partially amused by the sarcasm in the Brit’s voice.
The intimacy of feeding someone food as they drive (or really any other time).
Mikkel was expecting to see Sigurd in the crowd when he danced at the club. However, tonight Fredrik was there, maybe Sigurd too even if the Dane hadn’t spotted him yet from the stage. He had to try and not giggle when he saw that the Swede had what looked like cake.
The Dane was working and of course his best friend knew that when he was here, in a club, Mikkel was a girl.. or that was what everyone thought. Barely keeping from the giggles he came over to the side of the stage where Fredrik was standing with the slice of cake.
“Who told you?” Mikkel finally giggled as he leaned over the edge of the stage to not be so much taller than his friend down on the floor.
Fredrik offered him the cake and Mikkel reached out ruffling his friend’s hair. The Swede picked up the piece of cake and offered it with a shake of his head. “Sigurd said you forget to eat.”
That was true and it was a show. Mikkel leaned in to take a bite and something happened. Somehow, between the wavering hand of the Swede and the Dane’s precarious position, Mikkel ended up with a face full of cake. Both young men instantly starting to laugh as Mikkel wiped the icing off of his face and licked it from his fingers.
Fredrik got wide eyed and Mikkel looked over at the club customers staring at them. He started laughing and had to cover his mouth to try not and fall into a fit of laughter over the people staring at them. He took his icing covered fingers and booped the bassist right on the nose, leaving a streak of icing on his face before Mikkel walked away. He needed to go clean up now.
The intimacy of trying something new together and having no idea what you’re doing; the shared hesitancy.
“Are you sure?” Fredrik asked while he finished lacing the skates.
“It can’t be that hard. Ulfen does it all the time.” Mikkel had never been on in-line skates either and he felt his legs wobbling before he tried to stand up.
“He’s a dancer.” Fredrik was sliding his feet and testing out the wheels.
“So am I.” Mikkel tried to sound confident but there was an inside voice that told him he was about to fall on his face.
“I’m not a dancer.” Fredrik hesitated.
Mikkel stared at his feet and couldn’t keep them up on the wheels while sitting. How was he going to do this standing? “Maybe we should invite Ulfen? Isn’t it rude to skate without inviting him?”
Fredrik thought it over and nodded. It gave Mikkel a feeling of relief. They both needed someone who knew what they were doing before either young man tried to stand up.
The intimacy of someone saying “Text me when you’re home safe.”
Fredrik glanced at the time after coming from a post stage shower. He could hear Blixt out on stage. It was already 10 at night and Mikkel was dancing. Sigurd wouldn’t be off stage until 11, maybe?
Have you left the club yet? Fredrik sent a quick text to Mikkel before sitting down to dry his hair.
Not yet. One more dance. Why? Mikkel was fixing his hair when the text came in.
Let me know when you’re back at the hotel. Fredrik might have been picking up some of Sigurd’s worry after hearing about the guys that tried to rough up his Danish friend a few nights earlier.
You sound like Sigurd! I’ll text because I love both of you.
The intimacy of someone falling asleep next to you. On your shoulder. In your company.
They had both lost track of how often this happened, but they were freshly out of the shower and snuggled up under the covers giggling.
“You’ll fall asleep first!” Mikkel teased between cries and laughter because Fredrik was tickling him.
“NO I won’t.” Fredrik insisted before wrapping the slimmer Dane in a huge hug.
Mikkel started to calm down but still giggling. He could already feel Fredrik dozing beside him. He always fell asleep first.
The intimacy of sharing secrets in the nighttime, because 3am will never tell.
“What are you thinking about?” Fredrik asked while bumping his shoulder into the Dane.
“Sigurd.” Mikkel flushed red in the cheeks as he heard Fredrik giggling beside him.
“and you… I…” Mikkel started laughing nervously. “Remember when we all three fell asleep on the floor?”
Sigurd hadn’t exactly fallen asleep but that was not the point.
“You told me. I was passed out.” Fredrik waited to hear what his friend would say.
“I want to sleep with both of you.” Mikkel said it and then scoffed at the way Fredrik choked on his drink.
“Not that! I’m not Torden.” Mikkel gave Fredrik a playful slap on the shoulder. “It’s just.. comfortable.”
“Does Sigurd want to?” Fredrik asked once he had recovered.
Mikkel shrugged as he leaned into the Swede. “I don’t know. I’m not going to ask because he’ll probably get mad but… I don’t know. It feels safe. You're the only two things that make me feel like I'm safe from home.”
The intimacy of “This made me think of you.”
Mikkel had gone shopping while the bands were practicing. It was their day off but most of them still took some time to practice. It left the Dane on his own since he wasn’t in a band, not yet.
“Fredrik!” He came into the room yelling and excited, flushed red in the cheeks from hurrying. As soon as he laid eyes on the bassist he was dashing among the other musicians sitting in the common room practicing and talking.
“I found something for you.” He shoved the bag at his friend who instantly brightened. Fredrik pulled out the strands of colored hair in the bag feeling confused.
“You wear them.” Mikkel fished one out and clipped a blue one up in the side of the Swede’s hair by his ear. “I thought of when we dyed our hair at that salon.”
Fredrik picked up some of his hair, now decorated with he blue, fake strand. After a moment the Swede giggled. “Put the rest in my hair.”
Mikkel started pulling out all the clips to fasten them all over in the bassist’s hair and give him rainbow stripes with no dye required.
The intimacy of seeing someone’s unfocused eyes when they first wake up.
“Godmorgen, min kæreste.” Mikkel whispered. He was barely awake himself, and still squinting in the morning sun, when Fredrik started to stir.
“What?” Fredrik groaned a little and rubbed at his eyes before putting his head on Mikkel’s pillow. The two stared at each other, bleary eyed and trying to blink away the too bright morning sun. They’d forgotten to close the hotel curtains again. They laid there for awhile before Mikkel leaned in and kissed Fredrik’s nose to start the giggling that often happened early in the morning when they woke up together.
“My crush.” Mikkel finally told the Swede what the Danish meant and watched his friend blush.
The intimacy of ordering food and “shall we share it?”
“I’m starving!” Mikkel had been sitting around with Fredrik for a few hours now.
“Room service?”
The words barely left the Swede’s lips before the Dane was digging around in the papers by the hotel room phone. Fredrik came over to stare at the menu. They started pointing out things that looked good. Both of them were starving.
“We could get all of them.” Mikkel offered. “And share.”
Fredrik grinned and snatched the pamphlet to call down for elaborate room service. Mikkel bounced on the bed with the TV remote laughing.
“Are we staying in to watch all this stupid American TV?” Mikkel giggled as Fredrik hung up the phone and jumped on him to try and wrestle the remote control away.
The intimacy of someone sharing the meaning behind their tattoos.
Fredrik was staring at Mikkel’s shoulder while he brushed his hair and the younger man stopped with a questioning look.
“Leave for at gore op…oproar?” Fredrik was trying to sound it out and fumbling with the scrolled letters and Danish.
“Lev for at gøre oprør, oprør for at leve.” Mikkel answered with the correct Danish pronunciation.
“What does that mean?” Fredrik came over to get a closer look at all the colored flowers.
“Live to Rebel, Rebel to live.” Mikkel set down the brush. “I got it when I was 15. “
Mikkel knew that he was too young to get a tattoo at the time but the person he was apprenticing with had done it anyway. Fredrik still had that curious look and Mikkel smiled.
“It reminded me to keep rebelling against my family or I wouldn’t survive.” He lost his smile and cheer.
Fredrik stroked the Dane’s back with his hand. “It worked.”
Mikkel busted into a smile and then poked at the Swede’s tattoo. “Why a bear?”
The intimacy of just looking at someone and dissolving into laughter together.
Mikkel and Fredrik had been setting up pranks all day while the others were out. They had forgotten how many much earlier, half the tour would soon walk right into pranks, or that was what it felt like. The two were casually sitting in the shared lounge space. Mikkel with his nose in a book and Fredrik with a magazine. They were laying out on the same couch, legs partially entwinned and trying to look innocent.
A flood of musicians came in and Mikkel peeked up over his book at Fredrik. As soon as they made eye contact Fredrik jammed his face into the magazine to try and hide or stifle the giggles. Mikkel bit his lip as he felt his body shaking from the giggles he tried to hide.
“Brat?”
Mikkel looked from Sigurd to Fredrik and the giggles started to escape as soon as he saw the look on Fredrik’s face. That was right, the Swedish bassist had laid a prank for Sigurd. The longer Mikkel made eye contact with Fredrik the harder the waves of giggles came.
“What did you two do?” Sigurd had a hand on his hip and was smoking with the other hand, obviously suspicious.
Mikkel looked up at him and then Fredrik started laughing. They were going to get in so much trouble if Sigurd found out just how many pranks they had set up while the others were away.
The intimacy of answering the phone “Hey you.”
Mikkel didn’t like that Fredrik was away but Blixt and the Harlots were off in a nearby city doing a small promotional show. Mikkel was out of his mind with both Sigurd and Fredrik being away. He couldn’t sleep nor sit still. He’d seen Rekker earlier and he looked no better. The man looked like he hadn’t slept, maybe he hadn’t been able to either with Bjorn being away.
He was trying to lay down to sleep when the phone rang. He figured it was Ansgar again, lost and drunk. However, he lit up when he saw the caller ID said “boyfriend”. That wasn’t Sigurd. He had another name but this was the other person he was missing.
“HEY YOU!” Mikkel almost squealed when he heard the Swede drunkenly rambling on the other end of the line. He was a mess after the show and talking about how they were going to be back in the morning. Mikkel wondered if the Swede missed him too, but he didn’t dare ask. He was afraid of hearing no. It was the same reason he would never ask Sigurd that question either. Still, it felt so good to talk to Fredrik. The Dane had never had friends his own age that weren’t family, people who chose to be with him. This was the first time he’d ever had a friend to be away from.
He put Fredrik on speaker and poured a drink then laid down on the bed to drink and giggle, probably until one of them passed out. Most likely the Swede since he had a huge head start.
The intimacy of stopping to wait when someone needs to tie their shoe.
They were racing down the street at a full run and Mikkel was laughing because he was faster but also the Swede’s ability to run like this in boots with a lot of heel. He didn’t know why they broke into a run toward the hotel but it didn’t matter.
He was looking back at Fredrik when he stepped on his boot lace and almost went down. He froze, dropping to his knees to tie it. Fredrik got about six steps before he could stop and come back. He stood there panting and laughing.
“Come on!” Fredrik squatted down to ruffle the Dane’s hair then tickle his side. Mikkel squirmed and fell on his backside in the middle of the sidewalk trying to get away. Thankfully, his boot was tied when he leaned forward and got Fredrik’s sides and sent the other blonde running off again with Mikkel chasing him.
The intimacy of knowing when someone’s voice is thick with worry or sleep.
Mikkel didn’t want to be bothered and had hidden out in the bus while everyone else was in the hotel. Sigurd thought he was out dancing for the night, but the truth was he was worrying. He had his bass though and was plucking at it absently. For some reason tonight he was sure Sigurd was going to leave him. There were so many people around the bands the last few days and the young man couldn’t help but feel inadequate.
“There you are!”
Mikkel looked up in the dark to see Fredrik silhouetted in the middle aisle of the bus. He didn’t want to be bothered but forced a smile.
“How did you find me?” He asked as playfully as he could manage which fell so short of his normal cheer. Fredrik flopped down on the booth next to him.
“Did something bad happen?” Fredrik could hear it in Mikkel’s voice, even after this many drinks he could still hear it.
“Nothing… yet.” Mikkel sighed and set his bass aside.
“Yet?” Fredrik offered his friend the bottle because he needed a drink with how he sounded.
Mikkel took a drink while shrugging. “I think Sigurd’s going to leave me. I don’t know how to do anything right.”
Fredrik frowned and set the bottle aside before pulling Mikkel in for a hug. “He’s not. He loves you.”
The intimacy of singing (badly) with someone in the car.
Rekker wondered what he had done for karma to see fit that this was his evening. The two young blondes had called him from down in The Strip. Apparently, they had drank so much that they didn’t have the money to get a taxi back to the hotel, so Rekker became the taxi.
It would have been fine if they would stop singing. It was terrible, especially because he knew both of them were decent, at least back up singer quality. This was like dying cattle crossed with Beatlesmania screaming. He glanced up in the mirror and saw the two in the back clinging to each other, hugging and belting out some song in Danish, or maybe it was Swedish? Rekker had no idea but he did know bad singing when he heard it and this was some of the worst. On the bright side, at least they were still dressed.
The intimacy of huddling together under a shelter/umbrella.
Mikkel came dashing to the front of the bus with an umbrella when he saw Fredrik standing at the door staring out at the torrential rain. The bassist needed to get to the venue door without ruining his hair or outfit.
“I got this big umbrella from the back.” Mikkel pushed passed Fredrik and opened the umbrella out in the rain, holding it so Fredrik could get under it without the rain getting on him. The Swede was looking up at the umbrella and laughing. Mikkel looked up and saw that there was a huge Thor’s hammer on it.
“We can thank Hunter inside.” Mikkel giggled as Fredrik near jumped under the umbrella with him. The image on this umbrella was definitely the logo for the Hammers and Hunter was the only one in that group that wouldn’t run around in the rain on purpose. Fredrik slid his arm around Mikkel’s waist to get closer and the Dane kissed his cheek around the handle between them. Huddling under the umbrella together the two blondes made their way across the huge lot toward the backstage door.
The intimacy of instantly recognizing someone’s handwriting.
Mikkel came into the room and noticed the notepad by the phone. It had a bunch of things scrawled on it in a messy sort of handwriting, well messy but pretty. He knew the handwriting even if he didn’t read Swedish at all. It looked like a shopping list to the Dane.
Snatching it off the pad he ran down the hall to find Sigurd and make him read the list, if it was a list. Maybe Mikkel could surprise Fredrik by having all his forgotten list waiting for him when he got back from being out with the Harlots.
The intimacy of trying to make plans and, “Oh no we can’t, you’re working that day.”
“We should go to that movie.” Fredrik had paused at a poster on a store window.
“We’ve never gone to the movies.” Mikkel was staring at it because while he could read English some of these words, he hadn’t learned yet. Honestly, he’d never been to the movies with anyone.
“Who thinks of these?” Fredrik asked with a laugh that faded when he saw Mikkel’s face.
“We can’t.” He pointed at the date and time. “You’ll be on stage.”
Mikkel had memorized all the tour schedule weeks ago. He knew Fredrik would be busy and that sucked.
The intimacy of being there for someone as they cry.
Mikkel hated when he woke up crying but at least he was in the bed alone for once and Sigurd wouldn’t be upset by the tears from his nightmares. A few moments passed before he felt the bed bounce. Someone had climbed into it.
He looked up bleary eyed as a hand touched his shoulder and a riot of white hair fell in his face. “I heard you.”
Fredrik had been passed out in the other bed for a couple hours and must have just climbed into this one. Even in the dark Mikkel could tell the Swede was still exhausted and partially drunk. It was hard not to smile as the Dane wiped at his own cheeks.
“Scoot over.”
Mikkel obeyed as Fredrik slipped into the covers and put his arms around his friend. Mikkel didn’t hesitate and turned into that hug. He needed it so badly right now.
The intimacy of “How did you know that?” “Because I know you.”
“I can’t find my boots.”
Mikkel stared at the frantic Swede who was ripping the bus apart. “Are they in Rekker’s backseat?”
Fredrik paused to stare at the Dane. “How….?”
Mikkel shrugged. “I know how you are drunk with me. I don’t remember but you probably took them off on the way home.”
The intimacy of feeling someone’s warmth through their clothes when you hug.
Mikkel didn’t care about the sweat. He hadn’t seen the Harlots play yet because he was always working. However, tonight he had and he was now hugging Fredrik tightly, near bouncing.
“You’re so good. You spin around like Rik!” Mikkel buried himself against Fredrik’s damp clothing. He could feel the stage warmth radiating off of the Swede, especially when he wrapped his arms around Mikkel. Sure, he smelled a little, a lot, but the warmth and the happiness felt too good to be driven away by the smell.
The intimacy of being given change that’s warm from the heat of someone else’s hand.
They had stopped in the ice cream parlor which only made them both giggle. There were jokes between them involving ice cream that no one else knew.
“I always forget tax.” Fredrik sighed as he looked at the money in his hand. Back home prices had the tax in them already but in the US they added it to the price you saw. Mikkel stopped licking his cone to peer over the Swede’s shoulder and then at the price lit up on the register.
“Oh!” Mikkel shifted around to shove his hand down in his jean pocket. He pulled out some coins but honestly he was so new to being outside of Denmark that he didn’t know what most of them meant. He held them for a moment and then held them out to Fredrik. “Are these enough?”
Fredrik looked over and took a couple of the warm coins to hand over before giving the Dane a grateful peck on the cheek.
The intimacy of shared, comfortable silence.
They’d been talking for hours and for once sober as they sat on the roof of the hotel. Sure, they weren’t supposed to be up here but sometimes they needed away from the older musicians. The silence happened naturally as they leaned against each other looking out on Los Angeles.
Mikkel pulled up his legs and leaned into Fredrik and the arm around him. Mikkel could hear the muffle of people below but the two of them sat there in quiet and simply enjoyed it. Both boys were learning to be more than loud all the time.
The intimacy of knowing how someone would react.
“Mikkel, no!” Fredrik grabbed Mikkel’s arm as he walked toward one of the side rooms of the venue. The Swede had seen the women talking to Sigurd. All the musicians talked to fans of any gender, but he knew the Dane and how he felt. If he saw Sigurd in that room with those women, he would either get angry or heartbroken.
Mikkel’s stare shook Fredrik out of the thoughts, especially when the younger man started to wiggle. “I need you!”
“For what?” Mikkel stopped struggling to wait for his friend to answer.
Fredrik wasn’t prepared for answering and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “We should hide all of Hjalmar’s booze.”
Mikkel started to giggle and grabbed on to Fredrik’s arm waiting to hear how this plan was supposed to work. The Dane no wiser to the crisis that the Swede had averted.
The intimacy of keeping the radio off when someone falls asleep on a long car journey.
Mikkel had been driving since he was too young to drive, thanks to Ollie. That was why he was driving in the middle of the night after he and Fredrik got an idea to try and go to all the clothing stores in this city in one day. Neither of them had kept track of how far they were from the hotel until things started closing up and Sigurd texted to see where they were. The dark haired bassist worried about the two far more than he needed to.
Mikkel was bored now that Fredrik had fallen asleep. He was slumped over, still in the seatbelt, but his head was on Mikkel’s thigh. He reached for the radio then thought better of it in case it would wake up the Swede. Instead Mikkel rolled down the window a little for the summer air and the sounds of the city to keep his mind busy.
The intimacy of sharing one earbud each.
Fredrik was sitting in the corner belting out something in Swedish. Mikkel thought the rhythm was good, but it couldn’t sound as bad as Fredrik was singing it. No one would pay to publish music that sounded that way.
The Dane came over and sat in the Swede’s lap before poking at him. Fredrik pulled one side of the earphones off to listen.
“What are you listening to?” Mikkel was interested and giggled some when Fredrik stuck the bud in his ear. It tickled at first to feel the bassist’s fingers on his ear.
“A Swedish band I like put out a new album.” Fredrik told him before starting the cassette tape up again.
Mikkel leaned in close to listen to this new band he hadn’t heard before.
The intimacy of inside jokes.
“Can Fredrik come along?” Mikkel approached the ginger cautiously. The older guitarist had invited him over to help him with his bass technique and he couldn’t resist trying to get his friend a chance too.
Rekker paused to stare at the Dane and then the expectant Swede while feeling like he could regret this. “Sure.”
“I told you he’d let you.” Mikkel elbowed the nervous Swede. "Don’t throw his bathroom at me.”
“What?” Rekker stopped packing up his guitar to face them.
Both young blondes giggling. Fredrik finally got his laughter stopped enough to answer. “I broke a hotel bathroom and threw the roll at Mikkel.”
“Drunk?” Rekker asked, because of course the two had been to break a bathroom. Rekker trying not to laugh himself. There was a time long ago that he was sure someone was having the same reaction to either him and Dee or him and Devon for the same kind of stunts. The blondes nodded and that got a chuckle from the Brit who went back to packing. “Don’t worry. There’s no booze at my house. My bathrooms safe from your drunken chaos. Just keep your clothes on. I don’t need the press thinking I have all the young blondes on this tour at my house undressed.”
Mikkel and Fredrik fell into each other laughing, partially embarrassed and partially amused by the sarcasm in the Brit’s voice.
The intimacy of feeding someone food as they drive (or really any other time).
Mikkel was expecting to see Sigurd in the crowd when he danced at the club. However, tonight Fredrik was there, maybe Sigurd too even if the Dane hadn’t spotted him yet from the stage. He had to try and not giggle when he saw that the Swede had what looked like cake.
The Dane was working and of course his best friend knew that when he was here, in a club, Mikkel was a girl.. or that was what everyone thought. Barely keeping from the giggles he came over to the side of the stage where Fredrik was standing with the slice of cake.
“Who told you?” Mikkel finally giggled as he leaned over the edge of the stage to not be so much taller than his friend down on the floor.
Fredrik offered him the cake and Mikkel reached out ruffling his friend’s hair. The Swede picked up the piece of cake and offered it with a shake of his head. “Sigurd said you forget to eat.”
That was true and it was a show. Mikkel leaned in to take a bite and something happened. Somehow, between the wavering hand of the Swede and the Dane’s precarious position, Mikkel ended up with a face full of cake. Both young men instantly starting to laugh as Mikkel wiped the icing off of his face and licked it from his fingers.
Fredrik got wide eyed and Mikkel looked over at the club customers staring at them. He started laughing and had to cover his mouth to try not and fall into a fit of laughter over the people staring at them. He took his icing covered fingers and booped the bassist right on the nose, leaving a streak of icing on his face before Mikkel walked away. He needed to go clean up now.
The intimacy of trying something new together and having no idea what you’re doing; the shared hesitancy.
“Are you sure?” Fredrik asked while he finished lacing the skates.
“It can’t be that hard. Ulfen does it all the time.” Mikkel had never been on in-line skates either and he felt his legs wobbling before he tried to stand up.
“He’s a dancer.” Fredrik was sliding his feet and testing out the wheels.
“So am I.” Mikkel tried to sound confident but there was an inside voice that told him he was about to fall on his face.
“I’m not a dancer.” Fredrik hesitated.
Mikkel stared at his feet and couldn’t keep them up on the wheels while sitting. How was he going to do this standing? “Maybe we should invite Ulfen? Isn’t it rude to skate without inviting him?”
Fredrik thought it over and nodded. It gave Mikkel a feeling of relief. They both needed someone who knew what they were doing before either young man tried to stand up.
The intimacy of someone saying “Text me when you’re home safe.”
Fredrik glanced at the time after coming from a post stage shower. He could hear Blixt out on stage. It was already 10 at night and Mikkel was dancing. Sigurd wouldn’t be off stage until 11, maybe?
Have you left the club yet? Fredrik sent a quick text to Mikkel before sitting down to dry his hair.
Not yet. One more dance. Why? Mikkel was fixing his hair when the text came in.
Let me know when you’re back at the hotel. Fredrik might have been picking up some of Sigurd’s worry after hearing about the guys that tried to rough up his Danish friend a few nights earlier.
You sound like Sigurd! I’ll text because I love both of you.
The intimacy of someone falling asleep next to you. On your shoulder. In your company.
They had both lost track of how often this happened, but they were freshly out of the shower and snuggled up under the covers giggling.
“You’ll fall asleep first!” Mikkel teased between cries and laughter because Fredrik was tickling him.
“NO I won’t.” Fredrik insisted before wrapping the slimmer Dane in a huge hug.
Mikkel started to calm down but still giggling. He could already feel Fredrik dozing beside him. He always fell asleep first.
The intimacy of sharing secrets in the nighttime, because 3am will never tell.
“What are you thinking about?” Fredrik asked while bumping his shoulder into the Dane.
“Sigurd.” Mikkel flushed red in the cheeks as he heard Fredrik giggling beside him.
“and you… I…” Mikkel started laughing nervously. “Remember when we all three fell asleep on the floor?”
Sigurd hadn’t exactly fallen asleep but that was not the point.
“You told me. I was passed out.” Fredrik waited to hear what his friend would say.
“I want to sleep with both of you.” Mikkel said it and then scoffed at the way Fredrik choked on his drink.
“Not that! I’m not Torden.” Mikkel gave Fredrik a playful slap on the shoulder. “It’s just.. comfortable.”
“Does Sigurd want to?” Fredrik asked once he had recovered.
Mikkel shrugged as he leaned into the Swede. “I don’t know. I’m not going to ask because he’ll probably get mad but… I don’t know. It feels safe. You're the only two things that make me feel like I'm safe from home.”
The intimacy of “This made me think of you.”
Mikkel had gone shopping while the bands were practicing. It was their day off but most of them still took some time to practice. It left the Dane on his own since he wasn’t in a band, not yet.
“Fredrik!” He came into the room yelling and excited, flushed red in the cheeks from hurrying. As soon as he laid eyes on the bassist he was dashing among the other musicians sitting in the common room practicing and talking.
“I found something for you.” He shoved the bag at his friend who instantly brightened. Fredrik pulled out the strands of colored hair in the bag feeling confused.
“You wear them.” Mikkel fished one out and clipped a blue one up in the side of the Swede’s hair by his ear. “I thought of when we dyed our hair at that salon.”
Fredrik picked up some of his hair, now decorated with he blue, fake strand. After a moment the Swede giggled. “Put the rest in my hair.”
Mikkel started pulling out all the clips to fasten them all over in the bassist’s hair and give him rainbow stripes with no dye required.
The intimacy of seeing someone’s unfocused eyes when they first wake up.
“Godmorgen, min kæreste.” Mikkel whispered. He was barely awake himself, and still squinting in the morning sun, when Fredrik started to stir.
“What?” Fredrik groaned a little and rubbed at his eyes before putting his head on Mikkel’s pillow. The two stared at each other, bleary eyed and trying to blink away the too bright morning sun. They’d forgotten to close the hotel curtains again. They laid there for awhile before Mikkel leaned in and kissed Fredrik’s nose to start the giggling that often happened early in the morning when they woke up together.
“My crush.” Mikkel finally told the Swede what the Danish meant and watched his friend blush.
The intimacy of ordering food and “shall we share it?”
“I’m starving!” Mikkel had been sitting around with Fredrik for a few hours now.
“Room service?”
The words barely left the Swede’s lips before the Dane was digging around in the papers by the hotel room phone. Fredrik came over to stare at the menu. They started pointing out things that looked good. Both of them were starving.
“We could get all of them.” Mikkel offered. “And share.”
Fredrik grinned and snatched the pamphlet to call down for elaborate room service. Mikkel bounced on the bed with the TV remote laughing.
“Are we staying in to watch all this stupid American TV?” Mikkel giggled as Fredrik hung up the phone and jumped on him to try and wrestle the remote control away.
The intimacy of someone sharing the meaning behind their tattoos.
Fredrik was staring at Mikkel’s shoulder while he brushed his hair and the younger man stopped with a questioning look.
“Leave for at gore op…oproar?” Fredrik was trying to sound it out and fumbling with the scrolled letters and Danish.
“Lev for at gøre oprør, oprør for at leve.” Mikkel answered with the correct Danish pronunciation.
“What does that mean?” Fredrik came over to get a closer look at all the colored flowers.
“Live to Rebel, Rebel to live.” Mikkel set down the brush. “I got it when I was 15. “
Mikkel knew that he was too young to get a tattoo at the time but the person he was apprenticing with had done it anyway. Fredrik still had that curious look and Mikkel smiled.
“It reminded me to keep rebelling against my family or I wouldn’t survive.” He lost his smile and cheer.
Fredrik stroked the Dane’s back with his hand. “It worked.”
Mikkel busted into a smile and then poked at the Swede’s tattoo. “Why a bear?”
The intimacy of just looking at someone and dissolving into laughter together.
Mikkel and Fredrik had been setting up pranks all day while the others were out. They had forgotten how many much earlier, half the tour would soon walk right into pranks, or that was what it felt like. The two were casually sitting in the shared lounge space. Mikkel with his nose in a book and Fredrik with a magazine. They were laying out on the same couch, legs partially entwinned and trying to look innocent.
A flood of musicians came in and Mikkel peeked up over his book at Fredrik. As soon as they made eye contact Fredrik jammed his face into the magazine to try and hide or stifle the giggles. Mikkel bit his lip as he felt his body shaking from the giggles he tried to hide.
“Brat?”
Mikkel looked from Sigurd to Fredrik and the giggles started to escape as soon as he saw the look on Fredrik’s face. That was right, the Swedish bassist had laid a prank for Sigurd. The longer Mikkel made eye contact with Fredrik the harder the waves of giggles came.
“What did you two do?” Sigurd had a hand on his hip and was smoking with the other hand, obviously suspicious.
Mikkel looked up at him and then Fredrik started laughing. They were going to get in so much trouble if Sigurd found out just how many pranks they had set up while the others were away.