drabbles. nirvana

the morning after

i woke up in cold sweat, turmoil and pain washing over my body,drugging antstrekking down my veins as i do my best to sit up.

thin strands of blond hair coat most of my view, and it's only when inudge them away from my eyes that i notice another figure lying next to me; seemingly completely asleep.

i suck in a breath and rub the tiredness out of my face with my hands before leaving the air out through my dry mouth; the headache kicked in and i assume that it only got worse cause someone is in my bed, next to me.

speaking of which, i'm naked.

i ran a hand down my chest, stopping where my heart would be; feeling it race behind my ribcage.

i slowly turn and look at the person, the pounding and tightening sensation in my head only intensifying when i see a bare, smooth back, a small tattoo on the person's skin and, if that isn't alarming enough; dark brown hair, long and smoothly splayed out on the white pillow he laid his head on.

it's dave. it's dave fucking grohl, the drummer in my band. the one who joined the band only a year ago.

i recognize the tattoo way too well but that's because of the live shows where he'd take his shirt off. being a drummer is hard work, it's no wonder.

i inspect closer as i slightly squint my eyes, some strands of his hair are on his back, but even through the gaps i could see long, red scratches and a few bite marks; all blooming all kinds of shades of purple, yellow and red.

i must've done that.

i reach and push the dark cascades of dave's locks away from his back, displaying the marks in all of it's glory. it makes me shiver because, for starters; he stirs, and even then, the shrill excitement of me knowing that i was the one who marked him like that made me shiver.

i kinda hope he marked me, too. not to be vague or anything.

the dull shiver passed and i'm drenched in cold sweat when dave stirs again, but this time he actually turns and sits up just slightly, enough to be able to look at me.

he looks panicked, then relieved and then panicked again.

"holyshit—" he inhaled sharply. "what happened?"

i tense up in what might be disappointment, shrugging. "can't remember, i'm just as confused as you are, don't worry."

i think i know what happened last night, i think he knows too.

he seems to ease up a little when he hears my calmer, a little raspier voice. "oh."

speaking of raspy voices— his voice is actually pretty gravelly-sounding too. it's new and oh god, it's hot.

"i just, um, wanted to—" i pause and clear my throat. "your back. i'm really sorry."

"my back?" his brows are furrowed in frustration, and then it hits him; a look of realization twisted his expression as he let out a small exhale.

he clumsily touched his back, his fingers grazing one of the scratches and he winces in pain.

it must sting, i think to myself.

"kurt, i.." dave mumbled. "did we fuck last night?"

his straightforwardness is a little out of pocket, but it's fine; it made me question things, too.

"i think we did."

his face heats up and flushes red, yet he looks relieved.

he nods slowly. "are you, uh— sore?"

i arch a brow and snort, a smirk tugging at a single corner of my lips. "do you seriously think you'd be able to top me?"

i decide to ignore the pain in my backside and play it off with a simple joke, despite the timing probably being way off.

but contrary to my doubts, he smiles and laughs a little. "yeah, uh. i can't imagine you topping me, nice try."

i still vaguely remember his touch on my skin, it was if all the places he touched me last night are tingling, begging for more.

the little voice in the back of my mind tells me to risk it, so i do.

"wanna bet?" i hum suggestively, his expression almost darkens; he's caught off guard.

"what happens if i win?" he inquires jokingly.

"you'll decide," i shrug. "same goes for me. if i win then i get to decide what happens."

"and if i lose?" he grins.

"we'll find out, won't we?"

"i guess we will," he plays along, sitting up fully this time.

i look outside, the blinds are closed; the rooms dark despite the thin stripes of a sunset peeking through the small gaps.

we slept for a while, i felt energized enough.

i really can't tell if he's joking anymore, judging by the look on his face, it's as if he's about to pounce on me.

he breaks the silence, "gonna prove me wrong, or..?"

"say less."

and i push him back down flat to the mattress and climb on top of him, straddling his hips. things go south that evening.