Title: Clostridium botulinum
Author: Ligeia
Fandom: Die Ärzte (RPS)
Pairing: Bela/Farin
Rating: PG
Category: Romance
Summary: Bela looks different
The following story is a mere work of F I C T I O N, meaning it is 100% made up. None of the situations described here ever happened, and even if they did, I have no way of knowing. This is not about spreading rumours or, worse, libel. The people portrayed in this story are real, but I am NOT claiming they did what I wrote. I use their "public personas" and build stories around them as if they were fictional characters.
Farin noticed as soon as Bela walked into the room. They hadn't seen each other for a few months, like they always did after a tour: they had learned from experience they needed a break from each other after spending long periods of time together, neither of them wanted a repeat of the "13" or "Geräusch" eras, when they could barely stand each other's presence.
Farin had been looking forward to meeting Bela again. He had actually missed him this time around, something that hadn't happened in a long time. But now that he was standing in front of him.. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was off.
Bela caught him staring. "Are you all right?"
Farin blinked. "Yes. Yes, I was just... You look different."
The drummer didn't reply. And that made Farin suspicious. He was expecting a typical Bela comment, something along the lines of "It only took you twenty-five years to notice my stunning beauty?" or "Well, the ten-thousand-euro plastic surgery worked then." But Bela said nothing.
The guitarist studied his friend's face more closely.
"Did you do something to your face?"
"No," Bela said, a little too quickly. "I... I just had my hair cut."
Farin still wasn't convinced. Bela was sporting the same guilty look he had when Farin had caught him smoking weed a couple of months after he had sworn he was going to give up drugs forever. He had looked at him with big deer-in-the-headlights eyes and mumbled "But.. it's just a bit of grass." But now his face was much less expressive.
"Oh, fuck."
"Don't you like it? It's going to grow again..."
"It's not just the hair, is it?"
Bela was silent once again.
"Raise your eyebrow."
"What?"
"Raise your fucking eyebrow," Farin repeated.
Bela's face didn't move.
Farin closed his eyes. "Please, tell me you didn't use Botox."
"I didn't use Botox."
Farin crossed his arms over his chest. "For being an actor, you're an awful liar."
"Well, what if I did?" Bela retorted. "It's not your fucking business."
Now Farin knew he was right.
"Yes, it's not. You're an adult and free to do whatever you like, even injecting a toxic substance in your face. But... Why?"
Bela turned his back to Farin. The guitarist walked up to him and hugged him from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.
"I just... I don't want to look old."
Farin couldn't believe his ears. "What the fuck are you talking about? You don't look old."
"Yes, I do," Bela said. He tried to free himself from Farin's embrace, but the guitarist didn't let go.
"Bela, you look much younger than your age, a lot of men would kill to look that good at 45. Hell, I'm one year younger and look much worse than you! Did you see my wrinkles?"
"Those are laugh lines. And... They suit you, they make you look... I don't know, mature, I guess." He turned his head to the side and grinned. "And you've never been the pretty one, anyway."
Farin snorted. "I never claimed I was."
"I know. You're the travel-addicted madman who can write ten songs in a week, each one a potential hit. Rod is the musical genius who can play any instrument you throw his way. While I... Well, I'm just the rowdy drummer."
Farin grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him round.
"You're not serious, are you? You're much more than that and you know it."
"Let's be honest, Jan: there are hundreds of drummers out there, and most of them are much better than me. I'm only special because I created a character that fans like: Bela B, the charming, mysterious, vampire-loving rockstar. And the way I look must go along with that."
Farin didn't know what to say.
"Didn't you write a song about being yourself and not caring about what other people expect from you?"
"Writing a song is much easier than actually doing the things you're singing about."
Farin cupped Bela's face with his hands. The drummer wouldn't look him in the eyes. He leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips; physical contact was the best cure when Bela was feeling like that. He could feel Bela cling to his T-shirt as he kissed him back almost desperately. When they broke off, he pressed their foreheads together and let his hands slide down his back in a long, slow caress.
"Was it at least worth it?"
Their lips were still so close he could feel him smile. "Not really. Half of my face feels stiff and I can't even move my eyes properly. It was a stupid thing to do. Luckily the effects are only temporary, things should go back to normal in a couple of months."
"Good," Farin said, rubbing his cheek against Bela's. "I don't care what other people think of Bela B. I will always love my Dirk."
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May 2009