helland_damnation | TFLN and Continuations, bitches!

Viktor knew the cops were mad just by the way they were now pushing on the blues and slamming on the sirens. Wankers. The punk just offered them more fingers as he gripped hold of Vars and laughed. It was just too good right now.

"They're wankers, mate. We'll lose them. Too bad I don't have any molotovs otherwise I'd throw one right into the bastards' radiator."

Meanwhile, Joe was giggling like a school boy as he held on with Aarne, dodging the traffic and trying to lose the cops. Why were they being such assholes? It's not like anyone threw anything at their stupid car. Oh yeah. The Fin and his boot. Oops. A big scrape down the side of their car with Aarne's big boot. Fucking hilarious.

"Am I making you hot, babe? Maybe we could fuck once we've eaten at the diner."

This was always on the bassist's mind. Fucking his Fin. Breezing past the Dane and his guitarist, Joe offered Billy a finger and watched as the blond rolled his eyes and offered one back.

Billy nuzzled further into Rik's hair, which was blowing everywhere. He loved it like this though because the Dane's hair was so beautiful and soft. Getting a face full was heaven. He noticed that both Joe and Aarne's pants were still on surprisingly. This caused the Brit to shake his head, smiling.

"Yeah, you're right. Crazy bastards have got the cops on our asses though."

Vars paused and watched the cop coming up behind them. He wasn't on a fast or maneuverable bike but he glanced at the other punk. It wasn't the best idea but the Norwegian started laughing.

"Cheap vodka in left bag. Can make one while riding?"

Oh, it was a terrible encouragement but Vars thought it would be hot to watch Viktor light up a cop car.

Aarne is getting wild. Aroused and rebellious as he laughs and gives the Brit a squeeze high up on the thigh. "I could fuck you at the diner."

Maybe he was joking but the chase was good and feeling Joe holding on was amazing.

Rik knew his hair was going to be a knotted mess but it felt good when Billy nuzzled into his neck.

"I bet they were being lewd." Rik just giggled as he followed the Fin down the exit ramp and at high speed down the normal streets in order to disappear. "I can't wait to hear what they did."

Viktor glanced down at the left bag and pulled out the bottle of cheap vodka whilst then getting to make the molotov. Pulling out a wick from the inside of his jacket and then securing it to the inside of the bottle, the Brit made sure it would ignite as soon as the tip was lit with his lighter.

"This will fuck them up, mate. Just watch."

Finishing off the molotov whilst using his free arm to hold onto Vars, Viktor managed to make it near one-handed as he flicked open his lighter and lit the tip of the wick watching to make sure it touched the vodka. Then the flames were licking at the neck of the bottle as he turned to face the cop car, throwing it towards the front of the car. A direct hit onto the radiator as it smashed and exploded in flame with a loud crack and hiss.

"Fuck yes!"

The punk was pleased. Would the others notice what was going on? Probably not since both the Fin and Dane had shot off with their lovers on the back. The cop car beeped loudly and then one of the cops leant out of the car with a megaphone, yelling for the bike to stop. He also had a gun in his hand.

"Shit---I think the cop's got a gun on us, mate."

The car slowed a little as the radiator was now on fire. Then, it stalled as the engine cut out. Viktor laughed as it went smashing headfirst into the side of the highway, buckling the suspension and then exploding in a sheet of flame. Time to get the hell out of there.

Vars smiled to himself when he heard the excitement. He might not be into setting fires but he was happy to facilitate it with the other punk.

"Get down." Vars' voice has an almost military tone to it as he pulls at Viktor's arm to get him to lean down. The panic he suddenly felt wash over him when he saw the gun in the rear view was intense. It cut into his breath and caused his heart to hammer.

One handed he cut over dangerously to put cars between them and the cops. With Viktor behind him and the one who would get hit if they took a shot Vars started to freak out inside even if his outside stayed mostly calm.

The explosion got a glance from the Norwegian and relief. A long breath and he let go of Viktor's arm to get his hands back on the handle bars. He's speeding up to catch up with the others and somewhere quiet. He needs to calm down.

"Fuck cops." He let out a laugh to help vent the emotions inside. "Carry more vodka in future?"

Viktor got down and then panicked a little himself because what if the cops started shooting? Fuck. What if they actually shot Vars or himself? The Brit wasn't used to police carrying guns like they did here in America. Back home it was truncheons and batons. Nothing like the lethal force American cops used. The Brit punk then laughed when the car crashed and burned. Literally.

"Fuck cops. We did it! Crashed and burned, oh yeah!"

Clapping Vars on the arm, Viktor glanced back behind once more before holding onto the bassist once more. It actually felt good and liberating that one molotov wrecked one cop car. More vodka next time? Hell yes.

"You fucking bet more vodka next time. That was fun."

Viktor might feel it there in his coat, at the waist. Vars carried a revolver and if the cops took a shot he might well turn on them and take out tires or the motor. Thankfully, they crashed and it wasn't needed.

He leaned back into the Brit behind him. It was feeling good to have him there.

"Keep in bag for pretty boy's rides." Vars is teasing Viktor but he would make sure to keep a bottle or two around for his fire bug.

Viktor had felt Vars' revolver beneath his coat more than once and knew the Norwegian was not messing about when he said he meant business. Part of this made the Brit yearn for the bassist even more because of his attitude to the law. Fuck the cops. This was Viktor's slogan and should be on his t-shirt or the back of his leather jacket. Smirking, the Brit held onto Vars and was enjoying the ride.

"Good idea. We can keep cheap vodka handy so we can lob it at fucking asshole cops."

This sounded like a really good idea and one Viktor would make sure would happen. A supply of cheap shit vodka ready to make into fire bombs. Being a fire bug was a hobby for Viktor and he loved it. Glancing ahead, he wondered where the others had gotten to. The Trash and Terror Twins.

Vars laughed and leaned back into the Brit behind him. It felt good, fuck did it feel good to have him back there. "Someday, take you to Norway see what punks there do."

He realized he just invited the punk to come with him but it was hard not to. His presence sent Vars' emotions in 80 directions at once.

"We meet others at food." Vars took an exit and was slowly making his way there, figuring the others would be there waiting after they shook the cops on them.

Viktor actually laughed a little, which he hadn't done in a long time. Too long. Usually, he kept himself broody and aggressive, always on the defensive, never letting his guard down. But with Vars? He felt like a new man now that he had someone there for him in his life. His family had abandoned him pretty much and he basically turned his back on life for the last ten or so years.

"Norway? Sounds fucking amazing, mate. I can't wait. I'd love to see the punk scene in your country. They tough dudes and chicks up there then?"

The tougher the better for Viktor. Were they all are iron-plated as Vars? If so, then the Brit couldn't wait to meet them. But right now he was hungry and his belly was empty. Food was a good idea.

"Yeah, let's find the others and eat something. I'm fucking starving."

The laughter brought a smile to the bassist's expression. He hadn't heard much laughter from the other punk and it felt like it was good.

"Many type punks in Norway. Some good and some not good." There were some really bad groups out there that were more neo-Nazis or filled with hate. "Punks I see like me. Follow old ways of honor and warriors. Teach you to use sword and axe."

Vars smiles and sees the diner but drives past to look for somewhere to park his motorcycle out of the way. Surely the cops had his license plate and he didn't want his bike to be easy to find. About a block away he found a parking lot and pulled his bike into the back among the cars. It would give it some cover while they ate.

"Aarne read food here good." Vars hoped it was as he shutdown the motorcycle.

"Honour and warriors? I like the sound of that, mate. I can use a knife but I've never actually used a sword or an axe before. Wouldn't mind learning either."

Viktor held onto Vars until the bike came to a stop in the cark park just close by to the restaurant. It was a decent place to store the bike as he slid off the back seat and brushed down his leather jacket a little. What a ride. A fucking amazing ride with one cop car going up in flames.

"We roasted those bastards back on the highway. Fucking epic, mate."

The Brit smirked and hit Vars playfully on the arm because it made the punk happy. As for the food joint they were about to head into, Viktor was hungry now. He nodded and put an arm around the Norwegian's shoulder as they walked.

"We believe learn use weapons is part of living. Learn all weapons. Sword, knife, axe, hammer, not know bow but other punks know." The idea of teaching Viktor how to use traditional weapons was somehow incredibly hot and Vars tried not to think about it too much.

Vars got off after Viktor, making sure the bike was stable on the kickstand before moving to join the other punk. "Good no bullets. Not want have shoot cops."

To protect Viktor on the back, but he didn't mention that part. Vars turned on Viktor and playfully slapped his cheek for the punch. As Viktor threw his arm around Vars, he reached down and grabbed the other punk's ass. The lot was empty and the cars were blocking the view for anyone anyway. It was the perfect time to take advantage of private moment before they were all inside eating.

Vars doesn't mind public affection. He makes no apology for who he is and isn't about to hide it, though he knows the Brit is a little more private and feels threat from some things. If anyone ever said anything about their affection in public he'd beat them.

"Sounds like a good way to live. Swords, knives and axes are fucking good weapons to use I bet. Ever stabbed someone with a sword or smashed their skull with a hammer?"

Viktor loved to ask these sort of violent questions because the man was obsessed with strength and violence. Being a punk he loved this sort of thing along with his main passion which was fire. The heat just got him going in a way like someone jumping out of a plane. The adrenaline and danger made it all worth the risk.

The slap on the cheek was expected and Viktor didn't retaliate this time but instead offered a sly smirk and pressed a kiss to Vars' ear before biting the lobe. He then withdrew and continued walking with the other punk towards where the others were. A lot of the anger and frustration was fading away as he spent more time with Vars and could express himself properly becoming the man he truly was. A rough punk with attitude.

"Almost jail when knife and kill men attack the kids." By kids, Vars meant Rik and Aarne. It was how he referred to them because they were when they came to the band and it stuck. "Not often but kill men if have to."

Vars wasn't necessarily a violent man but if you got on his bad side he'd go to extremes fast and sometimes without much warning either. He never considered himself as one but his temper was not far from the concept of a berserker, easily driven from calm to madness and difficult to stop once he started fighting.

He just grinned at the little bite to his ear. Slowly, they were settling into being around each other. Vars could be very affectionate even if it was rough around the edges. As he walked he noticed the two Ducatis stowed in an alley out of the way.

"See bikes. Must be inside." Which isn't a surprise since the Ducatis were much faster than his Harley.

"Almost jail? You mean the bastards tried to bang you up for protecting the Dane and the Fin? Fucking pigs the cops. I hope the thugs bled to death after you stabbed them. Killing in self defence should be justified. I once burnt a bloke to near death with a molotov."

The truth was Viktor could easily fly off the handle if provoked or angry. The fire would soon come out and the punk would go into berserk mode much like Vars. Maybe this is why the two men got on so well with one another. They both liked violence and were fiercely protective at heart.

"Oh yeah. The Dane and Fin must already be inside. Greedy bastards."

Viktor smirked and nudged Vars lightly in the ribs as they walked closer towards where they were going to eat.

"I kill before and court worry." Vars shrugged a bit at it because it was his past. "One die when put head into wall but other bleed."

The bassist was rather indifferent toward killing. Sometimes it was a necessary part of life. He gave Viktor a little push for burning someone, a bump of his shoulder into Viktor that, though usually just friendly, has some flirtatious quality. There were similarities and it would probably make them a dangerous and volatile couple but they shared a sense of intense loyalty.

When they got inside it is a typical looking American bar which served food. The four were already in a large booth, Aarne already drinking. Rik giggles and pokes at the Fin who turns and looks at the two punks before smirking and trying not to laugh. The young Hammers were all about pushing the two punks together and seeing them get close.

"You smashed his head against the wall? Fucking epic, mate. I'd do that too if some wanker took a swing at me or my mates. Before the Hell's Angels I was in another bike gang and some of those men were tough as nails. Hard blokes who took hard drugs, fucked hard and some of them were ex-convicts. My parents hated it."

This is why Viktor often ended up in a police cell when caught with these men. Bad influences. The punk didn't give a shit what anyone else thought because this was his life and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Everyone else could go to hell.

"American place then? Not bad. I wonder if they do a decent cheeseburger. I like them."

Offering Billy and Joe a finger, Viktor soon found the rest of the band members sat down. It was time to sit down and eat. Always the best part.

"Not took swing. Knife Fin and almost died. Sliced Dane too when just kid." Vars stayed close to Viktor as he spoke about his past. "My parents dead when 16. Not have parents for long time."

"Fin says we come here have reindeer burgers." Vars slid in next to Viktor in the booth and eyed his two younger bandmates and their giggling.

Aarne just smile. "We've already ordered burgers, fries and there's a pitcher of beer and tray of shots coming."

"Aarne nearly died? Poor bastard. The Dane too? Fucking wankers. They deserve to have you slice them up for what they did to your band mates. I'd do the same but with fire if it were Joe, Billy or Zack."

Both men were protective over their band mates and friends and this was why Viktor was stuck on Vars since he respected how the Norwegian acted. Nodding slowly, the Brit squeezed the bassist's arm trying to console him. He'd had a fucked up life too it seemed.

"Reindeer burgers? Fuck yeah. Never had those. I hope they're really meaty."

Sliding next to Vars, Viktor noticed Billy giving off lovey eyes and Joe sticking his tongue out at the punk. Of course they were.

"Slice leg close to artery. Dane bash face with guitar." Vars patted Viktor's shoulder. "Knife bastard bother you or bandmates."

He's glad for the comfort but it's not needed so much with his parents. That was far in the past from Viktor's view point. On a strange whim, Vars pressed a kiss to Viktor's shoulder, quick but in reaction to the consoling.

"Had in Finland when visit Aarne at home last year." Vars tells Viktor. "Maybe, American good?"

Vars noticed the two making faces and picked up the steak knife, flipped it and slammed the point of the blade into the center of the table. It makes Aarne jump and squeal before laughing a lot. It was a Norwegian punk challenge. Rik looked away from that knife and wouldn't even dare. Instead he started passing out the glasses that came and filling them from the pitcher of draft that came.

Aarne pointed at the knife and looked over at the Brit. "Viktor, you should pull the knife out."

The Fin is barely able to control the laughter threatening to burst out of him again.

"Pull the knife out? What does that fucking mean?"

Viktor just looked at Aarne and then glanced back to Vars who had stuck the blade into the table to begin with. A challenge? The Brit was always up for a challenge but he didn't know what he was getting into. Even Billy and Joe looked a bit clueless as to what the Scandis were up to.

Joe just sat back and took his drink, swigging some and giggling a little at the predicament Viktor was in. He and Vars were so into each other it was just too obvious and any denial would be utter bullshit. The punk just frowning at the knife and not knowing what to do.

"You want me to pull it out?"

"Are you that blonde that you don't know how to pull a knife out." Aarne looked over at Viktor, teasing him. Rik was just watching with wide eyes. One way or another, Rik imagined this was about to get crazy.

Vars threw his butter knife at the drummer for his comments, not really intending to hurt him. Aarne felt his cheeks burn from laughing.

"What? Are you too much of a pussy to take your rakastaja's challenge?" Aarne kept up fully prepared to jump out of the booth if Viktor came after him.

Vars frowned and looked at Joe. "Should stick cock in his mouth shut it before bust his mouth."

"Fuck you am I blond, bitch."

Viktor growled back at Aarne which was followed up by a glare and a middle finger stuck up before gripping hold of the hilt, pulling the blade out of the wood work. Whatever this challenge was, the Brit wanted in and he wanted to prove he was no pussy. Aarne was getting under his skin and Vars probably knew this.

"What the fuck are you saying to me? Why don't you bend that girly ass over the table and have Joe shove a cock up it. That's what you two do, isn't it? He makes you scream louder than your Man-Barbie singer."

A smirk and Viktor was now gripping the knife in his hand, casually flipping it into the air and catching it. He pretended to aim it at Aarne but didn't throw it since he wasn't about to hurt the Fin, just taunt him.

Aarne just laughed more and more. As soon as Viktor pulled the knife out Vars scowled at Aarne then punched Viktor hard in the shoulder.

Aarne looked over at the punk and shrugged. "Only if you bend over the table too. Don't think I don't know what all that caterwauling and sound of stuff smashing is but I guess maybe there isn't anything left to bend you over after all that breaking shit."

Vars got a little wide-eyed over what just came out of Aarne's mouth. He might have hit him if he wasn't staring so much.

The laughing was only goading the British punk on further and causing him to become more angry and pissed off. Why was he acting like this? Surely he knew Viktor had a temper on him especially when he felt defensive and awkward like he was now. Being in a public venue with both Rik, Billy and Joe watching too didn't help matters. Then he felt the punch from Vars.

"What the fuck? Why are you hitting me?"

A look of pure confusion was masked all over Viktor's face as he didn't know what to say or do. Was this some sort of initiation ritual or some other fucked up Scandi crap? Not wanting to offend Vars, he didn't hit the other punk back but just glowered at Aarne, still threatening to throw the knife at him.

"Caterwauling? You've got the wrong room, mate. That's Man-Barbie and his girlfriend. Not me. I don't make stupid noises like that. Fuck do I. You jealous I break stuff? Because I feel like throwing a chair at you right now."

He aimed the knife towards Aarne, throwing it towards his direction but wildly off target as he watched it lodge in the wall behind him. Shit. What did others think? Fuck them. If the Fin wanted to start a fight then the punk would finish it. He then dived over the table towards Aarne, smirking as he cracked his knuckles in a show of strength.

"I don't hit girls so you're lucky."