Lucky Old Sun
23 January 2022 08:34![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hellomajortomFor 100 Ways to Say I Love You #29 "You're family."
Tom had noticed the way the punks were quiet the past few days. It wasn’t their usual and he started to worry about them, he did about all the musicians even when they drove him to anger and frustration. Then he noticed that Viktor had a Norse bracelet on and a few days later found out from Rik that the two were engaged, more or less. Why the two were quieter, sitting closer, and everything else he had observed became clear. Opening like that was a monumental step for both of them. Between Viktor’s distrust of people and Vars’ past marriage, Tom is surprised but it’s a good sort of surprise from the two for once. They really did make a good couple despite all the broken hotel rooms and fist fights. Viktor and Vars had both grown as people and Tom thought that was what made a good partnership, when you both became better versions of yourself.
This particular hotel had a diner in the downstairs and Tom found himself in one of the booths when he saw the two come in, hungover, always but in good spirits. He learned not to even bat an eye at their punching and pushing any longer. He went back to reading the newspaper, drinking tea, and picking at his food while glancing at the punks. The way Viktor tried to help Vars now that he was walking with a cane again, and the surly but conceding scowl of the Norwegian as he relented, was objectively sweet to the point he nearly giggled.
People were filling in, other hotel patrons a few more of the musicians. The usual. It got louder but Tom was always hypervigilant even when he didn’t look like it. The sound of a repeatedly flicking butterfly knife pulled his eyes to the punks who were over by the jukebox laughing about something. No doubt some of the music. However, Vars wasn't the one playing with a knife this morning. His eyes started taking in the crowd and instinctively looking for the knife. He found it at a table more toward the center of the room.
Tom set the paper aside and focused on the conversation through the noise. They were talking about attacking someone and Tom turned to follow their gaze, heart pounding when he noticed they were watching Vars and Viktor, but mostly the Norwegian. Of course, cowards like this would go after the weaker appearing of the two. On instinct, he started taking account of who else was in the room because this type of gaze could quickly turn on someone else. As the guy started to slide his chair back Tom got on his feet.
“I’d put the knife away.” Tom’s voice was civil as he approached the three. He was outnumbered but his insides were boiling. That and he knew if someone hit him the punks would jump for a chance to fight.
“What are you going to do old man?”
Tom rolled his eyes at the threatening tone. “There’s only trouble where you’re thinking.”
He was trying to stay calm when the guy with the knife started to laugh at him. They had no idea who they were messing with.
“You protecting the faggots? They your faggot kids?”
Tom’s eyes slowly closed and reopened to temper the rage. “They are, so fucking what.”
Tom was losing his cool, but the musicians were all like his kids. He helped them, scolded them, kept them safe. They were his family in a tangible way. Viktor had started to treat him like a father even, so had the others who, for whatever reason, didn't have one or had one that didn't qualify for the honor of that title. He didn’t want to fight. For once, he just wanted a peaceful breakfast but that wasn’t going to happen.
“You better get out of my way old man.”
The guy started to stand, knife in hand and Tom was tense. He could feel the air ready to break. Half out of his seat the guy attacked. Tom blocked the thrust with one hand and grabbed the back of the guy’s head. The crack as his face hit the table silenced the entire room. He came up looking dazed, bloody mouthed and nose starting to bleed.
“You better leave before this old man sticks that knife up your ass for picking on his kids.” The words came out dark and through clenched teeth. He wasn’t in the mood for another attack on any of the band. Ziggy, years ago, and Erik just a few days back was more than enough for the astronaut to endure. The guy puffed up and Tom crossed his arms defiantly, glancing at the others. Rekker was staring from across the room, fists clenched and Bjorn on his lap. That would be a surprise for sure, for everyone, if the crazy Sterling lost his mind in the diner. He doubted even Bjorn would be able to stop the freight train of rage.
“Leave!” Tom demanded. This time and they moved on. Sighing heavily, he went back to his table and tried to relax. He was tired of people harassing his family. His huge, diverse family. Tom snorted a laugh as he picked up his paper to go back to his reading. His family… He glanced up to the room that was settling down again and smiled. He always wanted a bunch of kids. This was a few more than he had planned on.
Tom had noticed the way the punks were quiet the past few days. It wasn’t their usual and he started to worry about them, he did about all the musicians even when they drove him to anger and frustration. Then he noticed that Viktor had a Norse bracelet on and a few days later found out from Rik that the two were engaged, more or less. Why the two were quieter, sitting closer, and everything else he had observed became clear. Opening like that was a monumental step for both of them. Between Viktor’s distrust of people and Vars’ past marriage, Tom is surprised but it’s a good sort of surprise from the two for once. They really did make a good couple despite all the broken hotel rooms and fist fights. Viktor and Vars had both grown as people and Tom thought that was what made a good partnership, when you both became better versions of yourself.
This particular hotel had a diner in the downstairs and Tom found himself in one of the booths when he saw the two come in, hungover, always but in good spirits. He learned not to even bat an eye at their punching and pushing any longer. He went back to reading the newspaper, drinking tea, and picking at his food while glancing at the punks. The way Viktor tried to help Vars now that he was walking with a cane again, and the surly but conceding scowl of the Norwegian as he relented, was objectively sweet to the point he nearly giggled.
People were filling in, other hotel patrons a few more of the musicians. The usual. It got louder but Tom was always hypervigilant even when he didn’t look like it. The sound of a repeatedly flicking butterfly knife pulled his eyes to the punks who were over by the jukebox laughing about something. No doubt some of the music. However, Vars wasn't the one playing with a knife this morning. His eyes started taking in the crowd and instinctively looking for the knife. He found it at a table more toward the center of the room.
Tom set the paper aside and focused on the conversation through the noise. They were talking about attacking someone and Tom turned to follow their gaze, heart pounding when he noticed they were watching Vars and Viktor, but mostly the Norwegian. Of course, cowards like this would go after the weaker appearing of the two. On instinct, he started taking account of who else was in the room because this type of gaze could quickly turn on someone else. As the guy started to slide his chair back Tom got on his feet.
“I’d put the knife away.” Tom’s voice was civil as he approached the three. He was outnumbered but his insides were boiling. That and he knew if someone hit him the punks would jump for a chance to fight.
“What are you going to do old man?”
Tom rolled his eyes at the threatening tone. “There’s only trouble where you’re thinking.”
He was trying to stay calm when the guy with the knife started to laugh at him. They had no idea who they were messing with.
“You protecting the faggots? They your faggot kids?”
Tom’s eyes slowly closed and reopened to temper the rage. “They are, so fucking what.”
Tom was losing his cool, but the musicians were all like his kids. He helped them, scolded them, kept them safe. They were his family in a tangible way. Viktor had started to treat him like a father even, so had the others who, for whatever reason, didn't have one or had one that didn't qualify for the honor of that title. He didn’t want to fight. For once, he just wanted a peaceful breakfast but that wasn’t going to happen.
“You better get out of my way old man.”
The guy started to stand, knife in hand and Tom was tense. He could feel the air ready to break. Half out of his seat the guy attacked. Tom blocked the thrust with one hand and grabbed the back of the guy’s head. The crack as his face hit the table silenced the entire room. He came up looking dazed, bloody mouthed and nose starting to bleed.
“You better leave before this old man sticks that knife up your ass for picking on his kids.” The words came out dark and through clenched teeth. He wasn’t in the mood for another attack on any of the band. Ziggy, years ago, and Erik just a few days back was more than enough for the astronaut to endure. The guy puffed up and Tom crossed his arms defiantly, glancing at the others. Rekker was staring from across the room, fists clenched and Bjorn on his lap. That would be a surprise for sure, for everyone, if the crazy Sterling lost his mind in the diner. He doubted even Bjorn would be able to stop the freight train of rage.
“Leave!” Tom demanded. This time and they moved on. Sighing heavily, he went back to his table and tried to relax. He was tired of people harassing his family. His huge, diverse family. Tom snorted a laugh as he picked up his paper to go back to his reading. His family… He glanced up to the room that was settling down again and smiled. He always wanted a bunch of kids. This was a few more than he had planned on.
