Euronymous

Chapter Nineteen

T/W - sexual themes, mature themes, alcohol/drug use, S/A

I'd never been down there before, and I wasn't sure what to expect. I looked around at the white bricked walls. It was dim but I could see a bunch of unlit candles that lined the walls on small ledges.
Øystein put on a record I didn't recognise and the sound of guitar filled the condensed space.
Upside down crucifixes hung sporadically from the walls and ceilings, as well as other Satanic symbols. I smirked.
"You guys are so evil." Sarcasm dripped from my lips and I rolled my eyes. Varg walked past me with a straight face, taking a seat on the couch.
"Is this where you take all your groupies?" I joked.
"We don't have any fucking groupies. Nor do we want them." Euronymous replied. His voice was deeper. He actually sounded a little offended.
I scoffed, glancing at Varg. His face remained unphased.
"Whatever." I muttered, looking around.
"You don't believe me?" Euronymous prodded at me, stepping closer.
"Why would I? You're usually full of shit." I smirked playfully, but I could feel his intense gaze glued to me.

"Take off your clothes." The sound of Varg's voice startled me and I tore my eyes away from Euronymous.
"Excuse me?" I'd never heard him speak so assertively before. Varg raised an eyebrow.
"Are you fucking deaf?" His eyes flickered down my body and back up again. "I said take off your fucking clothes. Now." He demanded.
I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, I glanced at Euronymous. He was staring at Varg, eyes a little wide, but he didn't say anything. He turned back to me briefly, before taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch to Varg.
I wondered how far he would let this go, given how jealous he was over Aksel. Maybe it would be different with Varg since they were friends.
I licked my lips and chuckled.
"No groupies, huh?" I took my jacket off, revealing the tight red corset underneath.
I kept my eyes on Euronymous, searching his face. He looked down briefly, almost embarrassed... or maybe ashamed. But he didn't say anything.
If he really wanted a show, he could have one.
"Hurry up." Varg snapped.
I glared at him before returning my gaze to Euronymous. He lounged back, hands on his knees, watching me intently.
I saw his eyes skim over my collar bone and realised I probably had purple red bruises there - souvenirs from the club the other night.
I undid the zipper on the back of the corset, tossing it aside.
My nipples were hard from the cold air. I stood there for a moment, trying to read his face. His eyes flickered up to mine, but I could tell he wanted to look lower as he leaned forward, his hair hanging over his face.
"And your pants." Varg ordered. I glared at him again.
"I don't owe you shit." I reminded him firmly. His eyes lifted from my breasts to my face and I could see the humiliation turning into anger. He didn't appreciate that I wasn't afraid to talk back.
"I said take off your pants." He tried again, but his voice wavered slightly. Euronymous glanced at him sideways.
"And I said, I don't owe you shit." I stood my ground. I'd be damned if I let anyone think they could have any part of me again without my consent.
Varg stood tall, approaching me slowly in an attempt to intimidate me. It worked, but I didn't let him see that. He stood uncomfortably close, leering over me. I refused to flinch, keeping my eyes locked on his.
I half expected him to slap me, or grope me.
When nothing happened for a few moments, I cocked an eyebrow at him expectantly.
"You bought me a drink, Kristian. You didn't buy my pussy." I let my words hang in the heavy air between us. His eye twitched slightly, but he didn't speak.
"Varg." Euronymous's voice held a tone of warning. He hadn't moved from the couch.
I moved away first and met Euronymous's eyes as I approached him. Wordlessly, I placed a hand on the back of the couch to steady myself as I straddled his lap. He looked surprised but smirked, unable to contain himself.
I heard Varg laugh humorlessly and he turned for the door.
"Enjoy your slut." He called out, leaving.
Euronymous bit his lip a little as his hands found my waist. We stared at each other. I saw something flash in his eyes - curiosity?
I ignored it and ran one of my hands through his hair. He leant into the palm of my hand, closing his eyes for a moment as it rested on his cheek.
I was mesmerised by him. He was beautiful.
My fingers trailed down his neck, his chest, along his arm to his hand still on my waist, where I took it and brought it to my chest. I shuddered under his touch and felt his hand grope me softly as we stared at each other. His hand moved up to my neck, grazing it lightly as he cupped my face, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. I felt a warmth growing quickly in my stomach as my panties became wet.
My breathing was shallow as his eyes wandered from mine, down to my neck, my chest, like he was memorising every inch of my skin.

He swallowed hard and his hands fell away from me, leaving me cold.
I was confused.
"Øystein..."
"What did you take?" He whispered.
"What?"
His eyes met mine again, still soft, but more serious now.
"I know you're on something, Else. What did you take?" His voice remained calm and even. I began to shake. I wasn't sure if it was from the cold or his questioning.
"Molly. Why?" I muttered. He sighed.
"I can't." He sounded apologetic, but I felt a lump forming in my throat.
I kept putting myself in this god damn position - I had no self control when it came to him.
He guided me off his lap, still sitting beside me as the numbness began to creep in. My arms wrapped around myself, covering what I could. I felt tears well up in my eyes but couldn't seem to move.
In one swift movement, his jacket was off and he was pulling his shirt above his head. The sudden movement startled me slightly, but he pulled his shirt over my face gently and touched my cheek lightly.
He pressed his forehead to mine and I sobbed.
I couldn't hold it in any longer. It was like a flood gate of emotion had been torn down.
I felt him press a kiss to my forehead, then his arms pulling me into him as he laid down on the couch. I laid atop him, sobbing into his bare chest, my head tucked under his chin. He draped his leather jacket over us for warmth.
One arm was wrapped around me, holding me, the other held my cheek gently as his thumb stroked my face slowly.
I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the tears flow as I was enveloped in his warmth and scent. His chest rose and fell with each breath and I felt my own begin to steady. Exhausted, I gave into sleep as he played with my hair.