Sappy

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The ground pulsed and throbbed as the heavy bass and kick drum had enough volume to collapse the building. And even if the bass and drums weren't enough, the furious crowd of people jumping and thrashing around the place surely would. The energy in the room was chaotic and rebellious and full of blood, sweat and tears. It smelt of sex, foul language, mutiny and revolution.

Yet Darren and Kurt sat in the absolutely repulsive men's bathroom getting totally baked out of their brains. Witnessing history? Meh, let's get stoned.

"Now, I'm not trying to get all sappy on you or nothing, but man..." Kurt mumbled and simultaneously giggled and burped. "I really, really love yoooooooooo- mama?" He gurgles and blushes but Darren can see through his awkward attempt. He rolls his eyes and takes a drag before punching him in the shoulder.

"I love you too, ya dork." He smiles and passes the joint over to Kurt. As he puts it to his lips, the younger of the two watches it as if it were a captivating TV program. Kurt, who may be completely and utterly stoned and almost asleep but not stupid, could see this.

"I do." He whispers, taking the blunt away from his lips and slowly blowing the smoke at Darren. "I do love you, so fucking much."

Darren scrunches up his nose and giggles. "I know, you just said that."

"No. No, I said I love yo mama." He corrects and his eyes sink down from Darren's oceanic eyes to his lips. "But really, I love you."

"Whatever." The smaller man murmurs and steals the blunt off of his friend to take a long, long drag. He felt Kurt's eyes on him, but he chose to ignore both his glare and the unnerving butterflies crawling up his throat which he pushed back down with marijuana. As soon as he took the joint away from his mouth though, Kurt lurched forward and replaced it with his lips.

Darren's red eyes flew open and it was all over in a second.

"Shit." Kurt breathes, watching Darren for a reaction. Was he going to slap him? Yell? Walk away? "I'm so sorry." The usually brash man squeaks as his cheeks go bright, bright red and he slinks away from the smaller man.

Darren's cheeks also went red but for a different reason. "Don't you dare be sorry." He mumbles before yanking at his collar and reconnecting their lips much to the surprise of Kurt. Both of their eyes flutter shut immediately their day-old stubble rubs together as their lips fight in a desperate battle. Darren's hands circled around Kurt's neck while Kurt's hands found themselves around the younger man's waist drawing him in closer.

Even through their foggy state of mind, both of them felt so much relief. For so long now, they had just been 'really good' friends and nothing else, something both of them despised. Neither of them had any clue if this would lead to anything or just be labelled as 'one of those times when they were both just super fucking high'. In that moment though, as they held each other, it didn't really matter.

Hesitantly, Darren slipped his tongue into the mix, only to be encouraged completely by the other man. The blonde pulled him closer and closer until their chests touched while the green-haired man caressed his face. Kurt bit the smaller man's bottom lip experimentally and was rewarded with a moan from him. Not-so-subtly as stoned Kurt was not a very graceful being, he attempted to slowly run his hands down...

Then the bathroom door swung open and all the deafening music was let in like a gas as the kissing couple were interrupted.

Dave held out his hand to Krist with a smug smirk and an eyebrow raised. "I knew it. A bet's and bet, Novoselic." He grins and Krist slaps a $20 bill in his hand begrudgingly. "Right!" Dave cheers and cautiously tries to dodge the thick marajiuana smog that had gathered around the roof of the bathroom on his way over to Kurt and Darren. "We better get you losers home."

Darren pouts and clasps onto Kurt like he was his lifeline, and whines as Dave attempts to lead him out of the club. Krist wasn't as understanding and simply flung the blonde frontman over his shoulder despite Kurt's stoned gurgles in protest.

As all four of them cramped into Kurt's bashed up Volvo (Krist having found the keys in his friend's pocket), the 6.8-foot man speeded off towards Kurt's shabby apartment. Upon arrival, the not-so-disorderly half of the party helped the totally-off-their-tits couple into the apartment. Dave, always the sweet one, shoved them on the bed and put two glasses of water and two Advil for when the drowsy duo awoke in a heckva lot of pain the next morning. Always to be the mother of the group, he kisses his friends goodnight and leaves with Krist following closely behind.

The two left in the apartment both sort of make inhuman grunts and try and order themselves in the bed so they can pull the covers up. Finally, after much effort, they manage and they let their heavy heads sag on the pillows. Darren was turned away from Kurt and so tentatively and unsurely, Kurt scooched up closer to him and wrapped his arms around the smaller frame. At that moment, Darren was relieved that his face was buried away in a pillow for his crimson blush would have been more than noticeable if it wasn't.

For about the third time that night, Kurt whispered: "I love you."

And Darren replied as he knew he always would, with: "I know that, you fucking wanker. You're lucky that I happen to love you too."

The End.




I don't really ever write stuff for Nirvana, but my best mate Darren requested it and I'll do anything for him because he's like a brother to me. I love him to bits, so go follow him and give his books a read!


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