frankenzack (frankenzack) wrote in a7x_fanfic, @ 2009-10-10 09:38:00 |
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Current mood: | Rrrr.... |
Current music: | Afterlife by Avenged Sevenfold |
Golf Lesson
Title : Golf Lesson
Author : Mmmee??
Rating : NC-17
Pairing : Brian//Matt
Summary : Matt give Brian a crash course of Golf in the dark...
Disclaimer : Just a silly imagination..-__-
A store that specialized in golf equipment was not how Brian had envisioned he would spend his days while he spent his nights pursuing his first love of music. How he had gotten the job he couldn't really be sure, though he had a sneaking suspicion it had to do with the way his manager would look at him as though he would love take him and fuck him behind the counter of the store without giving it a second thought. It didn't matter that Brian couldn't tell a 9-iron from a wedge so long as he wore jeans that seemed to cling in all the right places and smiled that sly, sexy smile when the man walked into the room.
That's how his days were spent, nights, however, were spent in the smokiest clubs and small dives that were willing to give him a slot to play for the patrons. No matter how empty or full the club was, Brian always played his heart out and it showed. His eyes would close, his head bowed as his fingers flew over the his guitar. Nothing and no one could touch him when he got lost in that perfect little world.
So there he sat on a stool behind a glass counter filled with various brands and colors of golf balls, gloves and tees, a magazine in front of him, his head resting on his left hand. The bell ringing over the top of the door didn't arouse his interest beyond the greeting he gave all customers who walked through the door. Each time he said it, he sounded as uninterested as he felt.
The man who had walked in, walked over to the counter, pulling off the aviators covering his eyes and setting them on the glass surface. Brian still didn't look up from his magazine or the article that vaguely had his interest.
“You gonna put that magazine away long enough to help me or do I have to come behind the counter and help myself?” His voice was deep and held that slight Southern California accent people from other places often comment on, yet when in ones own surroundings, went unnoticed.
Brian looked up, an annoyed sigh leaving his lips. “What can I help you with?”
The man's eyes moved down to the case. “I'd like to see the Nike balls and that package of black tees, please.”
Brian stood from the stool and slid the small door open before reaching in and grabbing the box of balls and the box of tees the man had asked about. He placed them on the counter, his eyes moving over the other man's frame. He took in the way the muscles moved beneath the skin inked with various images that seemed to flow into each other as if in perfect harmony.
“Do you know which of those different brands of balls is better?”
Brian sat on the stool yet again, his eyes not moving from the man at the counter. “Um, no I can't say that I do.”
The man smiled, his dimples showing prominently, an eyebrow raising slightly. “Do you even know anything about golf?”
“Nope.”
“Then how the hell is it you work in a store that specializes in golf equipment?”
Brian closed the magazine and smiled. “My boss has a thing for me.”
The man only nodded. “Well, I'll take these.”
“You're sure?”
“Yeah. They'll do.”
Brian stood from the stool again and made his way to the cash register, making sure to take the boxes of balls and tees with him. “So, do you play golf a lot?”
“When I have time.” The man walked over to Brian, a smile on his face. “So, what is it you know about if it's not golf?”
Brian quickly rang up the items. “I play guitar. That's what I do and I do it well.” The cocky tone in his voice didn't go unnoticed by the other man.
“Then why are you working here if you play guitar well?” The man handed Brian his credit card.
Sliding the thin piece of plastic through the machine, Brian smiled before handing it back. “Because I need a way to pay for my apartment. Playing music in small clubs doesn't exactly pay the bills.” He pulled the slip from the machine and set it on the counter along with a pen.
“Where do you play?” He passed the signed slip and pen back to Brian.
“Um, there's a little club over on Fifth. Little hole in the wall.”
The man nodded, “Yeah, I think I know the one you mean. Maybe I'll stop by and take a listen.”
Brian quickly put the receipt and the items in a bag and handed it over the counter. “Have a good one.”
Slipping his sunglasses back on, the man walked out of the store, leaving Brian desperately wanting to disappear to the bathroom strictly for the purpose of rubbing one out.
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Brian sat on a stool in the middle of a small stage, the lighting blue and purple and soft, just the way he liked it. Resting his acoustic on his thigh, he began playing a slow bluesy tune, his eyes closing as they always did, though his mind drifted to the man that had graced the store a week prior. Matt Sanders. Brian had been sure to take a long look at the slip Matt signed, a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach and a smile on his face.
He finished the song and opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head, his eyes moving to Matt sitting at the bar. His fingers moved over the strings of his guitar as if he had forgotten to play for an instant. He smiled a little, the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach multiplying over and over again.
Exhaling deeply, Brian closed his eyes again and began playing, his head moving to the beat in his head. Slender fingers moved quickly over the guitar, Brian's heart beating faster with every note. He wasn't sure at that time what it was about Matt that had him feeling like he was in high school again, fumbling and nervous. His fingers stayed steady on his guitar through the song, his mind fighting his heart's urge to open his eyes and gaze at the man who had captured all of his thoughts.
Opening his eyes, Brian exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and stood from the stool to the small amount of applause. Smiling, he disappeared from the stage to the back, quickly putting his guitar in the case and making his way to the bar, where Matt was still sitting, drinking a ruby colored liquid from an old fashioned glass. Sitting on the empty stool beside Matt, Brian rested his guitar against the bar.
“I didn't think I'd actually see you here,” he said softly, a smile on his face when the bartender looked at him.
Matt sipped his drink and smiled. “Eh, thought I would check out how you play. You're right, you play really well.”
“Thanks.” The bartender walked over and set a bottle of beer in front of Brian, nodding when Brian put some money on the bar.
“So, I was thinking...”
Brian raised the bottle to his lips and took a sip of the liquid inside, his eyebrows raising slightly. “About?”
“How 'bout I give you a crash course in golf?”
Brian laughed and shook his head. “Um, I don't think so.”
“Why not? You work in a golf shop. Don't you think you should have some knowledge of the game or at the very least the equipment?”
Brian set the bottle on the bar and sighed softly. “Alright. Fine. I doubt anything you teach me will be remembered, but I suppose it's worth a shot.”
Matt smiled and stood from the stool. “Then let's go.”
“What? Now?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
Brian's eyes moved to the window then back to Matt. “I dunno, it's fucking dark out?”
“Trust me, will ya?”
Brian stood and grabbed his guitar case. “Alright. If I end up dead somewhere, everyone here saw me leave with you.”
“Seriously? That's what you're worried about?”
“Who knows what kind of psycho you are?”
Matt laughed and turned to leave the bar.
ಇ