Okay this is shocking…. It’s shit!!! Ack! Fuck! I kinda rushed and I’ve only ever written one fanfiction before…. Please I’m sorry it’s crap. I can’t post it whole so I’ll post it in chunks ❤️ @eddiestardust for you, my love
Start
Blixa pov
Cold air fills my lungs as I tumble out of the bar doors. Shutting in the flashing lights and the air which was thick with the rotting stench of piss, alcohol and sweat. My mind is racing, searching for something someone to grip onto. All alone in the cold night. I sit upon the edge of the pavement and hug my knees. Nothing to do but hold myself and seek comfort from the warmth of my legs. My head aches and screams at me. I need water, my mouths become dry. This is all too much. This is all too much. This is all too much. Alone on the side walk, drowning in self pity and remorse. Tar in my lungs and pollution in my mouth, I can barely breath. Shakes have begun to wrack through my body now, likely caused by the rushing wind and over use of meth.
“Heya! What are you doing sat on the sidewalk on your own,” came the deep, voice of an Australian.
“None of your business, you filthy cheap lowlife whore,” I spit, still staring at my bony legs that are clad in black leather.
“Filthy cheap lowlife whore, eh? I’ll be remembering that insult.” the man chucked.
My eyebrows shoot up immediately, “why so you can call your mother that in bed? I’ve heard she likes being degrading.”
The man only chuckles and sits beside me. I turn to glare at him, but instead I’m met with the most stunning warm eyes. His soft looking lips were quirked up into a small grin. His jet black hair was teased and tangled, leaving only a small section of straight uneasy hair hanging down, draped over his left eyebrow and partially over his eye. I was taken aback, the man was somewhat good looking.
He turns away from me and leans forward, resting his arms on his knees and plucking some weeds out of the dirty street curb, chucking them to his left. I’m drawn to his hands, they are big and formidable, his index and thumb are decorated with metal chunky rings which stand out upon his pale skin like stars in the sky. I think he looks very camp.
“What is your name,” I ask, barley caring or listening.
“My name is Nicholas Edward Cave,” the Australian announces, feigning a posh accent, “but you can call me Nick.”
“I think I will be calling you Nicholas. I don’t like the name Nick, makes me think of the devil” I mutter, smirking at the ground. I enjoy playing people like this, playing with people who are so stupid they are thrown off by my attitude. I think I’m funny.
“Nicholas it is then! You come from around here?” Nicholas questions, intent and keen.
“No. I was born on mars. It’s quite civil up there, less so down here but eh, I can’t complain.” I reply.
“Mars huh? Guess you’re quite the traveler.” he laughs humor on his tone.
“No I hate traveling, just like I hate talking to stupid idiots.”
“Well we’ll get on great then! I hate talking to idiots too.” the tall Australian laughs heartily.
“No. We won’t be getting on. I have places to be, people to meet.” I tell him, a bland lie but he doesn’t need to know that. I stand up, the Australian quickly following suit.
“Oh… okay then! Well, see you some other day, Blixa,” He grins.
I stop short. How does he know my name?
“How do you know my name, you little fuckface?” I growl, scowling at him.
“Ah, your mother told me when I went around to fuck her last night. She’s one real good shag, once you get past the yellow eyes and weird antennas, Y’know,” the Australian purred, before turning on his heel and sauntering off into the streets.
“You fucking schlampe,” I shrieked, “when I see you next I’ll fucking rip your head off and fucking eat you, you depp hure!”
The Australian simply wanders down the path, turns left and ducks down an ally, vanishing from my view.
I suppose the lanky Australian must be a fan… but the name Nick cave sure sounds familiar. I sigh before turning and creeping back into the bar.
Nicks pov.
I sit on a ratty little sofa, broken and torn in places. My boots slung inelegantly over the arm of the sofa. What a life. Listening to the drunks and addicts swarm around into the dingy little performance hall, I doubt any of them will remember this concert tomorrow. I check my watch quickly, ten minutes. That’s enough time I suppose. I scan the room quickly, no one’s around. Perfect. I undo my shoe laces, pulling them out of the twelve little eyelets with ease. Once they’re completely out and I’m left with only the shoelace, I quickly fold it in half, wrap it around my arm once and loop it through the slight hole, wrapping it round once more, I grip the anglet with my teeth and pull gently, it hurts slightly as it pulls my skin and pinches in places. Readjusting my arm slightly I reach down into my little messager bag, lots of odd little pieces: a couple rings knocking around, a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. I feel a slight jab on my index finger, ah perfect, i clasp the the object and pull it out of the bag, a little syringe in a plastic bag. I unwrap it carefully, still griping the laces with my teeth. I place the little needle on my arm pushing it inside, a sharp fleeting pain flashes in front of me, before dying down as I begin to inject the heroin into my arm. What a feeling. I chuck the now empty syringe back into my bag and I undo the laces from around my arm. Quickly lacing them back into the eyelets, tying them up again. I flop back onto the shabby sofa, letting my head loll backwards, my eyes slide shut. I begin to think of my new muse, Blixa Bargeld. Ah what pleasure that name brings me, like honey upon the tongue or water in the mouth of a famished man. I will never forget the night I first lay eyes on him. I was drunk and high, stumbling around the street when I’d eventual heard the loud thrum of bass and the noise of a hammer upon metal, so I swayed inside the bar to see what was making the racket. I weaved my way through the crowd ignoring the loud complaints from the stupid drunks around me. The figure who stalked the stage was thin and frail. His waist was small and insignificant with ribs that protruded outwards like razors, poking out almost as If they would burst from out of the skin that stretched around them. He strode around, pacing, one long leg in front of the other, his hazel eyes glowering furiously at anyone that moved. He stalked to the left then to the right, clutching his microphone as if it was his lifeline, letting out horrific little shrieks as he paced. He stalked around for awhile longer before eventually striding towards the center stage and towards where I stood. He lent down and put his face close to the audience, His cracked lips, opened wide to let out the most dreadful shrieking noise that I’d heard yet, almost as if he was either being drowned in fire or as if he was having the most wonderful orgasm, I couldn’t place my finger on quite which one it sounded more like. His beady eyes glared and scowled furiously, scanning each member, as he carefully strode sideways, never taking his eyes away from the drunks, he was carefully edging his way closer to me. Now facing me, only inches away, our noses almost touching, he stared. His eyes were wide and pupils blown. His skin was weathered and worn, stretched around his skull. It almost looked painful, too tight around his bones. He looked in pain. His eyes were almost pleading me to help him, help him away from himself. I reached out cautiously, extending my long fingers towards his gaunt cheeks. I felt scared, unsure of what thoughts were racing though his hazy mind. I touched his cheek with the pads of my fingers, he flinched away from me, I suppose from on instinct, but he then looked back at me intently, his eyes shimmering with danger and caution, before gently bringing his cheek back to my outstretched hand, nuzzling into my palm. Every part of my mind was screaming at me to draw back, to get out and leave, to not get involved, but my heart felt different.
Continued
My heart pulled me to him, tugging my senses and keeping my body dead still and my eyes fixated on Blixa. His eyes were drawn shut and he seemed to cherish the touch, savoring it as if he had not felt such a tender moment in centuries. Noises clashed and clanged around us, and the audience swayed, drunkly dancing with no real rhyme or rhythm, but we paid them no heed for in that moment it was me and him, him and me, galaxies could have formed and exploded, the stars could have fallen like shards of glass and none of it would have mattered. Nothing could have torn my gaze away from his gaunt face. It was special so special. Then he pulled away, as if my hand had become as hot as lava so suddenly, but his eyes had a certain tenderness to them, as if he was thanking me almost. He put his shredded bloody lips up my fingers, placing a gentle loving kiss upon my skin, erupting a new kind of sinful feeling Inside me. He raised from his kneeling position on the floor, and stalked off, strutting and prancing, shrieking and wailing, but this time the show was for me. More enthusiasm and spunk to it all. Ah he had charmed me, I deeply enjoyed swaying to his loud music and watching as he preened. But all good things come to an end, and the show was over, the band let out one last roar of their chainsaw and Blixa wailed until her lungs had no air left, and they were done. As the band filed out, all of them drunk and high on some substance, I assumed Blixa would storm off too, leave to go get a drink and pick up a pretty girl, but instead he spun on his heel and stalked over to me. He leant down and before I knew it his thumb and index fingers were gripping my chin and pulling me forward to meet his lips, the we were kissing. It wasn’t tender or gentle, but instead chasing and aggressive. His lips bruised mine and chased for more, passion fueling his every movement. He reached up to my hair and entangled his long skeletal fingers, gripping tightly and pulling with enough pressure to make me wince slightly, and before I knew it Blixa had slid his hot wet tongue into my mouth. He tasted of cheap booze and cigarettes, and I lapped it up. Time flew and I had no clue who was in the room or what was going on around me at point, I focused on his taste and his hand in my hair. Eventually he pulled back, kissed my cheek and swayed off, his lips red as a rose.
I suppose that the next time we met he didn’t recognize me. It was a Friday evening and it was around… maybe twelve ish, when I saw my leather demon tumble out of the bar doors. He looked a state, his unique one eye eyeliner was smeared and running down his face, dripping down his gaunt cheeks and to his chin. His lips were bleeding, split in the middle and the blood had been rubbed to the left of his face, swiping up over his cheek. His eyes were wild, like that of a rabid mutt, pupils blown. He tumbled and swayed air of the bar and collapsed down onto the curb. Resting his head on his knees, his hole body was heaving, as if desperate for air. I had watched him for a few minutes, figuring out the situation, making sure it was safe. I myself was as high as the moon on heroin, but regardless I sauntered over to my leather wearing Angel. Out conversation went badly, i poor mixture of my badly timed humor and his compulsive lies. But still, it had left a lasting impression on me. Not only was the strange Blixa Bargeld a good kisser but also witty and intelligent.
I’m pulled from my train of memories by the shrill cry of a lady, shrieking at me that I was late and I needed to get up. Ah well, I’ve had enough time with my thoughts now anyway.
Blixas pov
I’m sat in the corner of a bar, watching all the drunks and crackheads dance like idiots to some boring pop song that’s playing repetitively. My beers tasting cheap and dull, each sip burning my throat, but I don’t care, whatever gets me drunk. I can see mufti chatting to some man that I’ve never seen before, both giggling and getting overly touchy, a spark of jealousy runs through me and I contemplate snatching mufti away and dragging him over to this lonely little table where I’m sat. But I leave him, his punishment will be his horrid hangover and sore arse tomorrow. God this is dull, I hate this life. I’m high and tipsy but it’s not enough, my heart longs for more, I always thought it was just more substance, but it’s not. It’s something strange that tugs at my heart, something that’s small and frail, something deep inside me begging for attention, it’s easier to try and drown it in meth and alcohol than it is to address it though, ushering it back and batting away it’s weak little hands. I cross my arms on the table and rest my head. The bass is beginning to reverberate around my skull now, I should probably leave. Then there’s a slight hum, i raise my head to look at this apparent hummingbird. There’s a tall man stood before me, dressed in leather jeans and some graphic T-shirt depicting something, I can’t tell for sure what the picture is, and his arms crossed. His hair is messy, as if a bat had previously nested in it. I can smell the hairspray vividly, his eyes are gentle and kind, his gaze isn’t angry but instead a slight worried glint in them. Theres something faintly familiar about him.
“Mind if I join your pity party?” The man asked, his Australian accent particularly strong.
“Sure. There’s no lemonade or cake, instead you can have some cheap booze,” I laughed, sliding my beer over to him.
“Shame… you got any cool party games?” The Australian laughed, eyeing up the beer cautiously.
“I do indeed, it’s called shut up and appreciate you beer, you depp.” I grinned, deeply enjoying the playful banter.
“Awe shucks… not sure bout that game… not great at it, gonna go call mum to pick me up I think.” The Australia giggled, picking up the the beer, his thick rings clanking against the glass, and raising it to his lips and taking a long sip.
“Well your mother is rather preoccupied you see, she went to visit the whore house that’s down the street, sorry darling,” I said, feigning sympathy.
The man simply laughed and kept drinking the beer, looking around the room.
“Whatcha think bout that man over there?” The Australian asked, protruding a finger and pointing at a man, I follow his finger to a man who is dancing, blatantly drunk, singing loudly and poorly to the pop that blasted, he’s wearing a shirt and jeans, I suppose the shirt used to be tucked in but had long since come undone and was now hanging lame around him.
“Well, he’s fine I suppose,” I muttered.
“Yeah he’s my friend, his names mick. He’s a real funny guy. Y’know, reckon you’d get on well.” The Australian said, beginning to tap his nails on his glass looking up at me through his long eyelashes to see what I thought.
I simply hum i response, unsure of where this is headed.
“Mhmm well see that other guy over there, the one watching us?” He asked, gestation slightly with his head.
The man who the Australian was pointing at is stood at the bar, he’s moody looking, piercing blue eyes glaring and glowering at any drunk that dares to slightly bump him or touch him. His jet black hair was choppy and uneven, one strand has fallen slightly over his blue eyes, making him all the more miserable. He tilts his head to the left to glare quickly at a man, Giving me a perfect glance at his jaw, its strong and defined, as if sculpted by the gods. His nose is beak like almost, strong and defined. He’s wearing a crimson shirt with slightly red swirls adorning it, tucked neatly into a pair of black jeans. He is small, malnourished looking. His waist is slim, and although the man had evidently tried to hide his frail frame with his shirt, it was concerning to look at.
“Handsome, I must admit.” I murmured, diverting my gaze from the frail figure.
“Isn’t he just? He’s also my friend, his names rowland. He’s the one that provides me with all my heroin.” The man said, shooting me a wicked grin.
It hits me! I have met this man!
“You’re Nicholas! Nick cave!! The man I met that night many moons ago!” I shriek, my voice has risen to a shrill pitch.
“Alright, alright you fuckin peacock! Yeah! I am the man you met! I’m also the man that you…. Y’know,” Nicholas then vulgarly mimes kissing with tongues, “kissed!”
“That was you!! You little depp! You never thought to mention?” I shriek.
“No why would I? That’s on you for forgetting,” Nicholas said, raising his hands feigning innocence, “I didn’t ask you to go get high on meth now did I?”
“You depp! You should have told me!” I laugh. I think for a second before leaning over the table and placing a kiss upon his cheek.
“Naww shucks…” Nick purrs, rubbing his neck. His cheeks have turned a slight shade of rosy.
“Well, Nicholas, I’m going to go get a drink, seeing as you now have mine,” I say, standing up and extending my hand, “wanna come with me and maybe I can buy you another drink?”
“Sure!” Nick says, standing up, leaving his beer on the table to finish later. He reached for my hand and grips onto me.
I clutch his hand in mine and we both weave through the crowd. As we enter into the large cluster of drunks and addicts, nicks grip on my hand gets slightly stronger. I stop short as a large group of women had crossed my path, frotting and grinding against eachother As I stopped nick bumped into my back, clearly he’d been somewhere else completely somewhere deep within his imagination, probably thinking of gay sex or whatever Australians tend to think of.
As he bumps into me, I feel his whole body on my back, his tits slightly hard pressing against my back through his shirt. He wasn’t bony, as such, but I could definitely feel the prominent hip bones and ribs. He didn’t stumble backwards and mutter out some apology, but instead, he pressed closer to me, propping his chin on my shoulder and peering at the drunk women in front of us
“Ahh the lesbians of Berlin” Nick purrs into my ear.
“And behind me is the biggest faggot that ever came out of Australia” I whisper back, grinning at my cleverness.
“Oh haha very funny. Bet you wouldn’t be the one complaining if I sucked your cock real good.” Nick grinned, a sincere tone in his voice.
“Well I’m no pussy, unlike you, Nicholas,” I laugh, “you couldn’t stand to have your arse fucked, you’d get up crying, begging for your mama.”
“Wanna bet?” Nick whispers.
I can feel his hot breath against my ear. A surge of excitement runs through me.
“Oh I do wanna bet, pretty boy.”
Nick grips my hand and steers us off to the left, weaving through the crowd, clearly an expert in this field. I’m dragging behind, giggling to myself. It all seems so amusing at this moment. I suppose all the cheap booze is kicking in.
We duck off into the back room. Bottles of wine are stacked wall to wall and the floor is made from cold hard bricks, years of use beginning to show. I suppose it’s been awhile since someone’s cleaned in here, as spillages of wine have stained the floor different shades of red, purples and pinks. As soon as I shut the door, nicks on me. I’m pushed up against the wall and I can feel his whole body now. His big strong hands are gripping my hips, stopping me from seeking any friction against him. I can feel his erection pressed onto my own. His breath is hot, as he gently bites and sucks along my neck and collarbones. His lips are soft and warm, sending shivers down my spine with each gentle press against my sensitive skin. He raises his head up and quickly captures my lips in a hot kiss. It’s all fast and chasing - before I know it he’s biting my lower lip, I open my mouth to whimper and he slides his tongue into my mouth, flicking over my teeth. He’s began grinding against me, his erection hard against mine and gently being thrust into me. It’s all so hot and slow and I let a moan escape my mouth. I feel Nick smirk against my lips, clearly proud of himself.
“You like that, darlin’?” He purrs.
I moan again, louder this time, but I truly don’t care. Anyone could walk in and it wouldn’t have mattered.
Nicks hands slide down my thin frame and slowly come down to my hips. He fumbles with the tough belts and ropes that adorn my leather jeans. He breaks the kiss and looks down, giving me a face full of his messy and tangled black hair, choking on the hairspray. Nick, oblivious to my rising irritation, keeps fumbling with the belts, his fingers clearly not adept with bondage.
“For fucks sake, let me do it, you depp.” I snap, batting his hands away and undoing the belts with ease. Nick just watched.
Once the belts are undone and I let them fall in a heap on the floor, nicks quick to make use of his hands. He quickly unzips my jeans and slides them down my skinny legs, leaving me exposed except for my underwear. He then quickly sets to work at unbuttoning my shirt, each button that gets undone sends a giddy, excited feeling to my chest. My black shirt eventually hangs lose, now split down the middle. Nick moves his head to capture my lips once more, this time it’s a fleeting kiss, a gentle peck. Before moving down to my chest, he leaves chasing hot kisses, sucking my skin and leaving pretty red marks all over me. He flicks his wet tongue over my tits, teasing me and riling me up. I lace my fingers in his hair tilt my head back, moaning loudly.
“This good for you, darlin?”
I nod vigorously.
His hand slips down to my bulge and he begins palming me through my underwear. His hands are strong and firm, sending a thrill that runs from down my throat and to my aching cock. He moves up towards my neck once more and goes over my collarbones, leaving more bright red lovebites. His wet lips on the exposed, sensitive parts of my neck and his palm rubbing my erection was all too much, causing thrills which ran all down my body.
“Nick… Mein Liebling, du bist so gut für mich..” I moan out.
“I know baby, I know.” Nick purrs.
He then slides his hand away from my erection and moves it around to my arse, squeezing me gently. Nick slowly moves down into a kneeling position, my hands find their way into his messy black hair again. He moves his mouth onto my erection, wetting my bulge and flicking his tongue around. It was friction and I can give Nick credit for that, but it just wasn’t enough friction, my cock begged for more. His lips are so close and I long for him to have my cock in his mouth. I try to buck my hips into him, desperately seeking friction, but his strong hands grip my hips and stop me.
“Oh please Nick, I need more, please, oh please.” I moan, tugging on his hair and grimacing.
“More huh?” Nick whispers.
“Oh please, please.” I breath, letting a moan escape my lips as Nick flattens his tongue over my bulge.
He slowly and torturously begins to tug down my underwear, he tosses it aside and moves his head closer to my cock. I take my chance and pull his head into my dick, making him take it to the back of his throat until his nose is buried in my pubic hair. His eyes widen and his gags immediately, tears welling in his eyes. He pulls off and splutters.
“You fuckin arsehole! You didn’t give me a warning” Nick mumbles his eyeliner now running down his cheeks slightly.
“I just assumed that you’d be an experienced cocksucker, big boy.” I whisper, grinning at him.
“I am!! I am! Fuck, but you didn’t give me a warning, doll!” Nick replies, running a hand through his hair, trying to maintain composure.
“Sorry big boy,” I say, stroking his face gently, “I’ll go more gentle with you this time.”
Nick moves his head back closer to my cock and opens his mouth, when an obnoxious, yellowish light fills the room.
We both turn our heads to look, Nick looks like a deer in the headlight, eyeliner running trails down his soft cheeks, like black tears. His blue ish grey eyes, wide and alarmed, he looked so very beautiful. A part of me wanted to take his face and put him back on my cock, show that this pretty Australian fag is all mine.
The man in the door way stood, equally as alarmed, one arm wrapped around a short lady who was leaving kisses along his neck, ignoring me and Nick. I recognized the ghostly figure to be the man from earlier, rowland, if I’m remembering correctly.
“You fuckin perv!” Nick shrieks.
Rowland looks at the two of us and smirks.
“Take it a little slower next time, okay, Nick? Fags don’t like pathetic men that gag.” Rowland grined before ducking out of the doorway and closing the door behind him, ignoring nicks shrill cry of outrage. I could hear him faintly giggling to himself as he wandered further away from me and Nick. Australians are funny…
My erection Is still aching to be tended to, so I take nicks chin in my index and thumb, pulling him to look at me.
“You’ve got something to finish don’t forget, big boy.” I whisper, as I begin gently stroking the hair from his face, watching as I sleek it back, only for it to spring back up again. I’ll have to brush that at some point I reckon.
Nicks face becomes sultry again as he remembers his task.
He puts his mouth back onto my dick diligently, the wetness and hotness of his mouth could have sent me over the edge, but I hold it together, gotta see what my faggy Australian can do.
Nick swirls his tongue over my dripping head before pushing his mouth down again, taking it to the base then pulling out again. He continues with this pattern, setting an orgasmic pace and moaning as he takes my length. With each moan I can feel it on my cock, sending a shiver of excitement through me. I grip his hair and tilt my head back, moaning loudly. He then pulls off, spitting on my length and beginning to jack me off, his pace is vicious and fast. The heat of it all and the slight clapping noises of his fist against my base. My head goes fuzzy and I can barely think. Everything looses meaning when I look down to see him drooling on my on my cock, his lips parted as he moans loudly. And before I know it, I’m cumming. Nicks mouth is on my tip before I can register it, lapping and licking up all of the cum that spills out of my dripping cock. I shriek, loud and banshee like I suppose, but nothing matters anymore. The wave of my orgasm dies down and before I know it nicks dragged me from leaning on the wall and I’m now on the floor, my back pressing against the cold hard tiles, and he’s above me, his cock right next to my mouth. He’s wanking, fast and aggressive, letting loud moans escape his lips. I flick my tongue out, brushing over the head of his cock. And now he’s cumming too, thick cum begins to spill out of his cock, I put my lips up to his length, now lapping up his jizz. I groan, feeling a slight flourish of excitement wave through me. He screams into the air before collapsing in a heap on top of me. I smile to myself, as I gently wrap my arms around him, letting my hand glide up over his hair, petting him like I would a mutt, he grumbles in response, nuzzling into my neck.
“Mhmm come on big boy! We’ll have to get you up and clean that fantastic cock of yours, huh, mein liebling?” I whisper to him.
He simply groans in response and nuzzles further into my neck.
I tut and continue stroking his hair. I think there’s something special about us. He’s different.
“I’ve gotta drag you around and show you off, baby,” I grin, giggling to myself, “show them my lovebites, I’m yours now, okay?”
“Yeah, mine” Nick mummers into my neck, clearly not intending to get up anytime soon.
