Black Metal bf by anon

"Dude, they're not gonna let you in like that."
"The fuck're you talking about?"
Looking at his attire and equipment, you're not sure where to begin.
The complete lack of underwear or, really, any clothing?
The spiked bracelets?
Or the huge fucking steel axe?
"When was the last time they allowed a weapon on a concert?" you ask.
"Oh, quit your bitching, it will be fine!" he grunts and holsters the axe after swinging it around a few times.
If anything, you hope he's at least not going to swing it when you get there.
He continues, "I'm telling you, we're not going to some weak-ass, pussy-ass arena to see Green Day or whatever." He rolls his eyes, "Fuckin' hell, that was trite. Made me want a cinnamon latté."
"But you liked the latté, didn't you?"
"Y- ye-- No. And shut up, you've taken me there. AND bought me the coffee, so it's your fault," he growls.
"No, we're going to a TRVE KVLT event, Anon. Shit your eye out if you don't like it. They know no-one is gonna blow up a black metal concert, and it's not ran by a bunch of shitheads who are scared of a dick or tits."
He puts the axe on the ground and leaves the room to get something. You call into darkness to ask him.
"What's your definition of kult? Last time it ended up with a rented out boyscout gym burning down during a Bathory concert."
"So? That was cool."
You sigh.
He comes back with a bottle filled with red liquid.
You look at it. It's not full, but the inside walls are completely stained by the contents. Wine doesn't do that.
"What the fuck is that?" you ask.
He shrugs. "Some special sauce for decoration. Just some pig blood."
"P- PIG BLOOD?"
"Relax, I'm not gonna stink up the place here. But look what I've also got."
He produces a spray cap. He probably knows his blood ballistics; splatters, sprays, streaks, pools, drips.
If anything, it makes for a truly badass make-up.
"Come on, Anon, it's gonna be awesome!"
You sigh again, hoping if any of the blood gets on your t-shirt, you'll be able to wash it off. Or your jeans. Or hair.
"Are you sure you want to go there in this? You look like you're going to see Metallica. Fucking boring."
You shrug. "You want me to go in there like you?"
He laughs but nods. "Yeah, why not? You've got form. No chicken legs, no fat pudge. You'd look pretty hot in this."
"That's pretty gay," you respond.
"I'm not gay, you fag, I just like your ass. Anyway, if Deathspell Omega does a concert ever, you are not going there like you're going now."
"Yeah, sure thing, as if anyone who listens to them would ever go outside."
"Fuck you, Anon."
"Yeah, fuck you too."
Both of you laugh. This is his usual banter.
It took you a while to get used to it, at least until he confessed love towards you with, "I love you, bitch."
This is gonna be a fun evening.

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Pub: 06 Nov 2021 11:03 UTC
Views: 1128