Rating-PG-13. Both of them have dirty mouths.
Warnings-Excessive abuse of yarn.
Summary-Dave teaches Taylor how to knit to keep him out of trouble while he's working. This could only end badly. :)
A/N-I dedicate this to Alison. She's the devil that taught me how to knit and now I'm cursed making scarves year after year for christmas. Thank you, m'dear.
Title: Close Knit
Author: Z, <lj-user=“jabberwocky129”>
Pairing: Dave and Taylor
Rating: Well, the MPAA lets the usage of two fucks in a PG-13 movie. When I take them over, it’s going to be more than that. So, this is a PG-13 with multiple f-bombs and some heavy petting.
Warnings: Um, dirty mouths. Mild sexual activity. Kinda fluffy.
Disclaimer: Don’t know. Don’t own. Don’t sue. Pure fiction. I wish. J
Summary: Dave needed something to keep Taylor busy.
Knitting is fun, by the way.
Taylor Hawkins was not one to sit still.
It was common knowledge.
“FUCK YEAH! WE HAVE THE NIGHT OFF, DAVE!”
Dave rolled his eyes.
“I know Taylor, and now, thanks to you, the rest of the state knows.” Taylor bounced around him as they walked, almost in orbit. Dave couldn’t help but smile. The boyish looks, the blinding teeth, all skin and bones, but in a healthy way. He sighed, shaking his head, slight smile still on his lips. He stopped walking.
“I think we need to start giving you tranquilizers again.”
Taylor had stopped moving around him, ending up in front of him, only he was still bouncing on his toes.
Dave raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t seriously need the explanation, do you?”
Taylor just stared, still bouncing.
Dave shook his head.
“You know, sometimes I wonder if you really are retarded…”
Taylor stopped bouncing for a moment and watched the front man start to walk again. Then he jogged to meet him, still bouncing slightly. They got to the bus, and Dave strolled up the steps. He could hear Taylor drumming fast and hard on the outside of the bus.
Taylor jumped into the bus, and he started to busy himself immediately.
Dave just watched him for a few minutes, transfixed by the boundless energy. The younger drummer was slinking around the kitchen quickly, making himself something to eat.
“D, want some?”
Dave shook his head, chin in his hand, watching him. Taylor smiled.
“I can feel you watching me, Dave…”
He watched as Taylor’s smile widened.
“All right. Out with it,” Dave suddenly said.
Taylor turned abruptly in his sandwich making.
“Where is it?”
“The Red Bull IV you’re attached to.” He walked over, lifting the blonde’s shirt, and Taylor giggled, Dave grinning when the giggles became high pitched. The blond turned, smacking Dave lightly in the shoulder.
Dave laughed and he heard a soft vibrating.
“Taylor, you didn’t leave your dildo on again, did you?”
Taylor snorted and shot him a look.
“Only because I figured you’d want to use after I was done with it…”
Dave snorted, and he walked over to where his phone was nearly buzzing itself of the table.
“Hello?” Taylor went back to his sandwich, holding it up and then smacking it on a plate and then walking over to the couch where he seated himself cross-legged. He watched Dave pace back and forth, the front man muttering ‘yes’ and ‘no’ occasionally as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah. You want me to take a look at it? Sure. I can do that. I’ll need a few hours.”
Taylor raised an eyebrow, then took another bite. He shifted on the couch and Dave shot him a look.
“Yeah. I’ll have it for you by…” he looked at his watch, “Um…it’s like, three now, so, say, seven? Yeah. All right. Talk to you then. Bye.”
He hung up, and he looked at Taylor. Taylor sank into his shoulders a bit as Dave came closer.
“You can’t even sit still when you eat!” Taylor straightened, beaming at him.
“I know. Sad, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Look, they need me to do paper work. Think you can keep yourself busy for a while?”
Taylor bounced on the couch, nodding as he took another bite.
“Okay. I’m going in the back. Need me, just come get me.”
“Nothing distracting, you hear me?”
“Hear you me!”
Dave snorted, shaking his head.
“Guess that means yes. And that’s not even the correct usage of that…I will never understand you, T.”
He turned, seeing Taylor chewing slowly, a slight grin on his face. Dave squatted in front of him, squinting one eye at him, cocking his head. Taylor mirrored the action and Dave smiled.
“Can you try something for me?”
Dave’s smile became genuine. He reached out, ruffling the drummer’s hair.
“Can you sit still? I want to see your limit.”
Taylor’s eyes rolled upwards, and he set his sandwich down.
He shifted on the couch a final time. Dave started his watch.
Taylor sat stock still. Dave nodded, impressed.
Taylor began twitching at three minutes. Dave sighed.
A long keening whine escaped from Taylor’s lips and he huffed, falling back onto the couch.
“Daaaaaaaaveeeeee………..I can’t help it!”
“Well, three minutes isn’t that bad…Just keep it down while I’m in there, okay?” Taylor nodded. He picked up his sandwich again and played with the remote.
He watched Dave gather the folders from the lock box.
He watched Dave’s form retreat into the back, grabbing his glasses from the desk and giving Taylor a wink.
This was going to be the longest four hours of his life.
Half an hour in…
Dave took his glasses off, hearing the tapping again.
“Taylor, knock it off!”
The tapping stopped.
He went back to typing.
The tapping started again.
Bowie this time.
“I’m seriously going to break his arms…” Dave muttered under his breath.
“You will not!” Dave jerked in surprise.
He got up, pacing for a moment, then stretched, yawning.
He leaned out the doorway, watching Taylor silently tapping against the pillows on the couch. Dave smirked, watching him, seeing the blonde’s eyes closed.
Taylor started and he looked at Dave.
“Are you done?”
“Nope. Not when you’re tapping incessantly out here.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe.
Taylor bit his lip.
“You don’t have to stay here.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
“Taylor, I’m doing paperwork. You can go out and do whatever the hell you want to do.”
Taylor shook his head.
“Taylor, look. I don’t know what to do. You need to get a hobby or something.”
“This is my hobby, Daaave.”
“It’s mine, too.”
Taylor grinned. It faded when he saw Dave staring straight ahead.
Taylor held himself still, watching the singer intently. Dave glanced back into the room.
“Hold on…” Taylor but his lip again.
He heard Dave humming, Black Flag, he thought, and the unlocking of his footlocker. Taylor bounced in the cushions for a few moments.
Taylor heard him lock the trunk again and he returned, carrying a black bag. He handed it to him.
Taylor raised an eyebrow, cautiously taking it.
“What is it?”
Dave sat down across from him, shaking his head.
“If you want to know what it is, you have to open it, fucknut.”
Taylor furrowed his brow at him, glaring. He unzipped the bag, then slowly put his hand in.
“I’m afraid you might have knives or something in here…”
“Something like that.”
Taylor pulled out two silver metal sticks, plastic parts covering the ends. They came to a point up top. He pulled a ball of yarn out next. His eyes widened.
“WHAT THE FUCK-”
Dave was already up, and he had covered his mouth with his hand. Taylor continued to rant behind it, and Dave laughed. He caught the words “fag“, “dumbass”, and “fuck you”.
“Taylor, man, dude. Please. I’m trying to help here.”
Taylor huffed and snorted into his hand. Dave sighed.
“If you just put snot on my hand, then I’m going to wipe it off on your face…”
He felt the younger man grin behind his hand.
His response was a lick to his palm. He jerked away.
He wiped it off on Taylor’s hair, and the drummer squeaked.
“You brought it on yourself!”
Taylor threw the yarn at him, but held onto the needles.
“So what’s this for?”
“I’m going to show you something that , Kristen, remember her? That she showed me. Kept me busy for hours.” Taylor looked at him skeptically. Dave sighed, coming to sit next to him.
“Look. I don’t know anything else that can keep you busy unless you become fucking engrossed in it. Trust me, you will on this.” He took the needles from him.
“I’m going to teach you to knit.”
“Mom tried to teach me once.”
Dave rolled his eyes upwards. The drummer was taking this better than he thought he would have.
“So you know?”
“I forget. Show me how.”
Dave sat, showing him how to cast off.
“Okay. You’ve got the slipknot. You’re going to cross the needles, bring the loop of the yarn around the back, and then slip it between the needles. Then you’re going to wrap it around, and then bring the second needle from around and behind the first, pulling it through the loop. Remove the needle, then twist the loop and stick it back over the tip of the needle you’re casting off on.” He repeated the action several times, and then handed them to Taylor. Taylor shot him a worried glance, then tried his hand at it. Dave raised an eyebrow as he quickly completed several more loops.
“You pick up on things entirely too fast, you know that, right?”
Taylor gave him the reaction he had hoped for.
A passive nod of the head, completely engrossed.
Dave quietly “yayed” to himself.
A few more loops, Dave quietly counted 35, and Taylor looked up.
“It’s as wide as you want it to be?”
Taylor nodded. He handed the needles back to Dave.
Dave quickly explained the next part to him.
“Do the same as above, just really, no twisting, and pull the original knot of the first needle.”
“Why couldn’t I have pulled it off when I was doing the wideness thing?”
“Casting off. And because you wouldn’t have had a beginning, dumbass.”
Taylor nodded. Dave held the needles out for him, and Taylor took them pensively.
“So, after I finish a row?”
“Turn it around and start on the next row from where you ended. Call me when you want to finish it okay?”
Taylor didn’t answer, and Dave smirked to himself when he heard the telltale metallic click of needle against needle.
“Now to get some fucking work done.”
2 hours later…
“No, I don’t want do that…Yes, I do want to have them help us on the record…” he muttered to himself, staring at the lap top screen. He blinked hard, pulling away from the computer.
Dave set his glasses down. He listened for a moment, hearing a soft sigh and then the faint clicking start up again.
“How you doing out there, Tayl?”
No response. He got up.
A distracted “huh?” and he looked out.
“Oh, Taylor…” he dissolved into giggles. The drummer looked at him, and Dave made his way over to the couch, gently untangling him from the yarn.
“I don’t-how the hell-goddamn, boy…” he tried again.
“What the fuck did you do?” Taylor looked at him, watching Dave silently as the older man quickly took the yarn from his hair, and managed to “frog” it from Taylor’s shoelaces.
“That’s it, next shoes you get, get Velcro…”
Taylor shook his head.
Dave sat, pulling the last inch of yarn from his hair and he rolled it into a compact ball. He settled the ball into Taylor’s lap. He followed the taught end to whatever he had been working on. Taylor smiled full force and held up what appeared to Dave to be an amorphous blob of yarn.
Dave checked it over. He glanced at Taylor, trying to read his mind as to what it was.
“Oh, it’s a uh…um…damn…”
“It’s a sock.”
Dave took the “sock” from him.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s some kind of sock all right.” He smiled and handed it back to Taylor.
“Well, you keep on trucking with that then. I’m going back to work. I’ll be done soon, okay?” Taylor nodded, watching him go. He glanced back down at the needles. Dave turned briefly, to watch. Taylor stuck the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. He smirked.
“I’ll be out in a little be out in a little bit, okay?”
45 minutes later….
Dave clicked send, and he signed the last paper. He sighed, looking at the clock. 6:23 pm.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment, and then shut the computer off. Beyond the humming of the generator,, he didn’t hear anything on the bus. He cocked his head, listening.
“Taylor?” he called softly. He stood, going out into the main room. He smiled.
“Awww…” he whispered.
Taylor was curled over on the couch, asleep. A trail of drool slid down the pillow, and the needles and yarn were abandoned on the ground beneath his shoes. Dave walked over to the couch, kneeling in front of it, watching the drummer sleep. He would never admit it, but it was a bit of a pastime for him. While Taylor was entertaining awake, he was something of art when he was asleep. Drool and all.
Dave brushed the hair from his eyes gently, feeling Taylor shift. He held his breath, waiting, watching him carefully, but the blond didn’t wake. He looked around, feeling Taylor’s arm cold beneath his hand. He went to the bunks and he pulled a blanket from it. He draped it over Taylor, tucking it around him, then he sat, looking at the amorphous blob of yarn on the floor. He held it up, nodding as he saw Taylor had the general gist of knitting, but had no idea where to go with it. His phone rang, and he quickly silenced it in his pocket, watching Taylor. He pulled it out, moving away from the drummer.
It was Chris.
“Yo, Dave. Foooooooood.”
“You two can meet us outside-”
“Taylor’s not coming.”
“He’s uh…knit himself to sleep.”
“Knit-what the fuck?”
“Long story. I think I just found a way to get him to sit still for a while.”
“All right, well then meet us outside in a few minutes.”
“And I want to know what the deal is with the knitting thing.”
He laughed, then hung up. He leaned down, watching Taylor for another moment, then kissing Taylor gently on the forehead. He laughed quietly as Taylor’s mouth twitched into a small smile, and he made a contented noise.
“I’ll be back, okay?”
Then snored loudly.
Dave exited the bus laughing.
Chris looked at him.
“Okay…so the knitting thing…”
Dave walked into a silent bus.
He looked down at the couch, seeing the covers kicked back, but no drummer occupying it. The yarn was askew on the floor, but the thing he had been working on was gone. Dave noted the needles were missing.
No response. The smell of Taylor’s shampoo wafted through the air, and he smirked to himself. He went towards the bathroom, opening the door, expecting to see him there, but there was no one there either. He noted the mirror still had condensation on it. He glanced around behind him. He checked the shower, turning quickly when he thought he heard a noise.
He exited the bathroom, cutting the light on his way out, and he checked the front of the bus. The driver was no where to be found.
“Jesus, Taylor. Where are you?”
He headed back towards the bunks, and he noted the two had their curtains closed. He normally kept his closed, he didn’t think anything of it.
Unceremoniously, he threw open the curtains and was immediately attacked by drumming knitting needles. He flew back into Taylor’s bunk, seeing the drummer perched on the edge of his bed, needles slowly coming to a halting X in front of a devious smirk. Dave smiled, laughing. Taylor dropped the needles, and Dave launched forward, grabbing him and dragging him backwards into Taylor’s bunk.
Taylor braced himself up on his arms, leaning over Dave. He went in for a light kiss, tucking some blond strands behind his ear as he pulled away. Dave reached up, touching his cheek.
“You know, I’m not busy anymore.”
“You want to be busy?”
“Well, if you can sit still long enough, I’ll make it so you won’t have to sit at all for a few days…”
Taylor shuddered violently at the proposition, and covered Dave’s lips with his own. His tongue fought for entrance, and Dave allowed. Dave shifted on the bed, pulling him more on top of him and grabbing his ass through the thin mesh shorts. He felt Taylor squeak into his mouth, and he smiled against his lips. Taylor pressed into him, thrusting hard once, erection already apparent.
“Those shorts don’t hide anything, do they?”
Taylor shook his head and deepened the kiss even more.
“Goddamit, just fuck me, Grohl. It’s been too damn long…” Taylor moaned breathlessly.
The singer felt Taylor whine as his fingers dipped into his shorts. They snaked skillfully down the silken skin of his thighs and Dave raised an eyebrow as he came to his cock. He withdrew one hand to push Taylor away slightly.
“Hm?” Taylor had resorted to sucking on the junction between Dave’s neck and ear; the place Taylor knew drove him nuts.
“Tayl, what the hell is wrapped around your cock?”
Taylor stopped sucking, and Dave let loose a small noise of protest.
He sat up a little, and smiled.
“It’s your scarf.”