OLD BUT
FAMILIAR FACES.
IT'S A DINGY, dark and typical london day when the heaven's devils, plus yoongi and maxxie, pile into angel's mate's borrowed big black northern tranny ( that's a black ford transit van to you and me ), equipment and all, the seats ripped out in the back so seokjin gets shotgun and angel drives and the rest of them gotta sit cramped up with two amps and a drum kit, no regards for safety.
"le's hope we don't see no bobby blues," angel comments as he starts up the road, a map laid out on the dashboard and a rock tape playing lowly from his stereo. the rain hits the windscreen with all the insistency of a postman knocking on a door, the window wipers trying to fight it off. "y'alright back there ladies?"
he looks over his shoulder at the rest of the group, all of them tired from the early 8AM start. hoseok grunts, trying to light a cigarette with a shit lighter, grumbling a few choice words when it fails. jeongguk lights it for him wordlessly, before retreating back into his hooded sweatshirt like a turtle into his shell. maxxie's new bleach blonde hair is a stark and bright addition to the dark guts of the van, head resting against the wall as he slowly falls back asleep. yoongi sits on one of the wheel humps beside hoseok, his hair freely curling around his face, and he gives angel a curt smile.
hoseok is well excited for today. they'll get to punk rocky at around nine if angel doesn't fuck up the drive, and their set starts at twelve, so they'll have time to set up, do a sound check, and watch some other bands, perhaps even the one that angel's mate's girlfriend is in, some punk girl band who sound pretty cool. he fucking loves festivals, gets himself up to glastonbury whenever he can; if there's any party, small or big, hoseok's bound to be there — and he's sure to be the biggest twat there as well ( it's a trademark, he's gotta keep it up now ).
"you okay, jin?" jeongguk asks the oldest of them, who's sporting fading, but still nasty, bruises on his eyes, beneath his lips and on his cheeks, as well as on the rest of his body. the bassist nods, coughing a bit; his cracked ribs been giving him jip¹ for a good while, and his bruised chest has gotta hurt.
"i'm alright, gguk, don't you worry," seokjin replies, leaning his head against the window. "bet you're looking forward to today, ey hoseok?"
hoseok smiles softly. seeing seokjin like this, even if he's dressed up a bit for the festival, makes him sad; he does love seokjin like a brother, deep down inside, never having a lot of love for his real family. he's got a home in seokjin, the way he hopes jeongguk has in him, as they all helped each other when they fell into this big, complicated urban jungle of london. "yeah i am, mate. hope you can enjoy it too."
the van jostles as angel roughly turns a corner, swearing in irish in such a way that it sounds like he's about to sing them a song, jeongguk's lips quirking up at the words. yoongi is moved by the sudden action, and falls into hoseok's lap, all due to lack of seatbelts. he knocks the air out of hoseok, who coughs but secures his arms around yoongi's waist nonetheless.
"alright there love?" he asks, his tone the same as a bloke trying to pull a bird in a pub, and yoongi scoffs, elbowing him in the ribs.
"who's got a fag?" yoongi asks the van, ignoring hoseok, but he's not moving. angel tosses him a pack of camels, and he lights it easily with a match, moving so he can sit comfortably on hoseok, who isn't at all discontented by the boy on his lap. yoongi's wearing a leather jacket over a greying and ripped white shirt, and loose checkered chef's trousers cover his legs; he looks good, his hair falling prettily in his eyes, which are lined with a smudged black kohl, giving him this rockstar appearance, and yeah, it's takin' everything in hoseok not to ravage him right there.
the drive ends too quickly, hoseok thinks when yoongi clambers off his lap lazily, angel having parked the van at the festival. they were welcomed by a garish red and black sign reading 'give yourself over to absolute pleasure!', the festival's name written in dripping red letters; there's music playing loudly from somewhere, and it smells like fried food and weed and that special smell of a big field after rain, and hoseok takes it all in.
the rain's cleared, and people walk about dressed just like that dr frank-n-furter and his motley crew of weirdos, fishnets and red lace and lingerie on both men and women, extreme overdramatic makeup and sparkling corsets and high heels that sink into the cloying mud — what a sight.
"oh wow," seokjin says with a grin, his arms around jeongguk and maxxie, using them as human crutches. "should've dressed up a bit more, hobi." he laughs.
"i look alright, piss off!" hoseok says indignantly, looking down at himself. he's in a black fishnet top that clings tightly to his toned chest, an unbuttoned black and red striped shirt, and tight black jeans. "it fits the theme, dunnit? i'm just not that camp, man, y'know me."
angel rolls his eyes, hands stuck in the pockets of his leather jacket. he's in the getup, tight leather shorts with thigh high fishnets revealing his mile-long legs, and yeah, it suits some people. "c'mon, let's go find chungha and the rip 'ems."
"i'm sorry, the fuckin' who?" jeongguk says, raising an eyebrow. his outfit isn't exactly fitting with the rocky horror theme, but seokjin has a fonder look in his eye when he looks at him ( hoseok can see that, plain as day ), so he isn't getting chastised; his hooded sweatshirt, leather jacket and jeans are pretty standard for him. angel sighs, gesturing for them to follow him.
"chungha is my mate, her girlfriend's band are the ones who managed to get us the spot. they're called rest in peace emily pankhurst? 's some feminist thing, i dunno."
"emmeline pankhurst started the suffrage movement in the UK, wonnit? she's the reason women can vote 'n all," maxxie says knowledgeably, and everyone gives him a weird look. "what? just 'cause i'm blonde donae mean i'm thick, like!"
"yeah, that's it," angel says, guiding them past tents where there's clothes, food, even drugs being sold, all sights and smells and crazy things, strung up in this usually empty field in buckinghamshire for the week. "they're pretty fuckin' good, actually. dawon's got vocals like a fuckin' goddess, and their drummer is a bloody genius."
"wait, dawon?" hoseok asks. that name is familiar, too fuckin' familiar.
"tha's my name, don' wear it out."
a girl in men's boots and striped black and white knee socks appears out of one of the tents, smoking a cigarette. her hair's shaved on one side and her makeup makes her look bruised, smoky and dark, but hoseok recognises her instantly. her eyes widen when they meet his.
"hoseok?"
"dawon?"
"where the fuck 'ave you been, you daft fuck!" she nearly bowls him over with her hug, still considerably shorter than him even in her boots. "oh my god, angel you fuckin' mug!" she turns to the irish boy, who looks as confused as the rest of the group. "why wouldnae you tell me that my brother was in your mate's band?"
"i didnae fucking know!" angel throws his hands up in the air frustratedly, but dawon just smiles, turning back to her brother. this is weird, this is all very weird; last time hoseok saw her was before he fled home for london, and she certainly wasn't in knee socks and leather jackets then, no siree, she would've been in a school uniform with the tie a little wonky and her shoes scuffed, hair neatly parted like the perfect fuckin' asian kid she and hoseok had been raised to be. now look at her; that skirt's short enough to give ma jung a heart attack.
"who're these cunts then?" dawon asks, elbowing her brother in the ribs. "don't just stare at me, fucker, introduce me, innit?"
"you grew up to be a right gobshite², didn't you?" hoseok counters, that semi-malicious sibling banter returning easily. "this is my band," he gestures to them. "that's seokjin, bassist, but he's out for the count today, so yoongi's substituting."
yoongi gives a small wave in dawon's general direction, busy looking at some t-shirt tent. seokjin smiles as well. "i've heard a few things about you." his welsh accent makes dawon smile, but hoseok knows he's lying to seem nice; he's mentioned his sister probably twice in passing to seokjin.
"all fuckin' terrible, i should hope." dawon beams.
"that's maxxie, seokjin's boyfriend, and the miserable pink haired fucker is jeongguk."
"oh, angel's mentioned you, you sound pretty cool," she nods at the pinkette, who barely hides his blush behind his turned up lapels. "what's the band called then, lads?"
"heaven's devils, after a long awaited name change," seokjin says, giving hoseok a sly look. "and yours is the... rip 'ems?"
"that's just the abbreviation, like," dawon says, the group following her as she walks. "we're a punk feminist band. my girls are literally my life."
they approach a large black tent where music is playing and smoke trails out of the open entrance, and dawon grins widely, running in. "girls!"
the boys follow her, hoseok exchanging a few looks with his bandmates, who all look equal parts confused and wowed, yoongi sporting an amused grin as he slides an arm around hoseok's waist and walks in with him. hoseok's skin tingles beneath his shirt where yoongi's fingertips graze through the fishnet material, calloused and warm. it's a strange feeling. but he ignores it.
inside the tent are five girls, all in varying black and red ensembles, adorned in chains and chokers, tits out or at least on their way to being there, the sounds hitting their ears a mixture of gobby swears, laughter, experimental riffs and drum lines. a girl with slender limbs and jet black hair sits behind a set of drums, lipstick smudged and shirt unbuttoned, playing a beat while a blonde girl plays a neon pink guitar along to it, her eyes rimmed with dark circles and a cigarette hanging from her lips.
"hoseok and his assorted fuckers, meet the rip 'ems!" dawon throws her arms up with a triumphant grin, the girls all looking up and the music stopping. "rip 'ems, meet my brother and the heaven's devils. blondie over there is soyeon, guitarist and backup," the blonde girl gives a two fingered salute in their direction. "drummer gal is hyuna, my eternal beau and our stylist." dawon blows her a kiss and the drummer grins, waving at the boys.
"angel!" a girl with pink and brown hair runs over to jeongguk's roommate and hugs him, grinning. "you met dawon already, cool, cool. and this is the band?" she turns to them all with a grin.
"i'm hoseok, dawon's brother." hoseok shakes her hand and smiles. the energy these girls give off is electric; dawon introduces chungha as their producer and official gig-booker, and then introduces a brazen, half-naked and shameless girl as jennie kim, their bassist with a killer hairstyle and these huge boots that make her jeongguk's height, and then finally the second guitarist and occasional synth player, a very punk and gobby girl called syd, the only white girl in the group.
yoongi's hand doesn't leave that spot on hoseok's waist until they all sit down and listen to the girls do a quick rehearsal, and hoseok misses the touch and the warmth when it leaves, something churning in his stomach. he really likes yoongi's hands, he thinks, watching the boy cradle a cup of beer, eyes focused on the length of his fingers, on the chipped black nail varnish, on the veins that pop out when he moves, rippling beneath his milky skin. the same hands that had been wrapped around hoseok's cock a few days before, the hands that had him feeling like rock n roll lived beneath his skin.
he finds himself focused on nothing else but the way yoongi's spread legs keep nudging against his, how their knees knock occasionally; yoongi's driving him mad with that outfit and his smoky eyes and the way his lips look around a cigarette, and hoseok's trying really damn hard not to pin him to the couch and kiss him breathless. lust crawls up his throat and he drowns it in cigarette smoke — this is fiery, like whisky, making him burn.
fuck, if it's gonna be like this for the rest of the festival, he might just have to do something about it.
━━
written – 090919
BRIT VOCAB
¹giving him jip: if an injury has been giving someone trouble, it's been giving them jip.
²gobshite: someone who's gobby, who swears a lot/is rude
AUTHORS NOTE
lmao back at it again w the mediocre chapters... i watched yet anothr cult classic film 2nite and that inspired me a bit so the next chapters will hopefully be better ... will interrupt the festival w a bit of vmin bcs they are also a main ship whoop i love them
also what r ur thots on a namgi euphoria au bcs well .. let's just say i had an idea... brainwave
— love, jace