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You Get Used To It	By : Linda_Linda Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Led Zeppelin Views: 1433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't know or own Led Zeppelin or any other entity or band mentioned herein. The groupies are original characters and are not based off real persons whether living or dead. This is a work of FICTION and I make no profit from this.

Chapter List
- 1-You Get Used To It
- 1
A/N: Wrote this literally hours ago. Just a lighthearted, silly idea. This never happened, but I'd love to have seen those Polaroids if it had! May be horrendously out of character. Set in a hotel, 1973.
“Hiiiii, girls,” Robert and Jimmy said simultaneously to two groupies walking down the hall. They tried to get them to go back to their rooms, but they said no.
“We’re in LED BLOODY ZEPPELIN! How do you NOT want to sleep with us?!” Robert said incredulously.
“C’mon. Please?” Jimmy said. “Do you know who I am? I'm-”
“Yes, you’re Jimmy Page,” said the brunette. “Jimmy Page, the guitarist of Led Bloody Zeppelin who’ll fuck anything that moves. And you wear the same velvet dragon suit every night. Ewww!” Both girls made faces. “Dry cleaning is just too expensive, isn’t it?” the blonde smirked. They giggled.
Jimmy stood there in half shock and half anger, never having endured such insults in front of Robert. He’d always been jealous of Robert, the blonde Greek god with a voice that made girls scream with only a few “Baby, baby, baby”s.
“But you can’t say no,” Jimmy said, turning on the charm. His hypnotic green eyes flashed. “You must obey.” For a moment both girls paused and seemed to be falling under his spell. “I command both of you to do my will, by the name of--” But it wasn’t working. Robert began to walk away.
“Oh, stop, Jimmy,” Robert said. “Just let it go.”
“You know what?” the blonde said, eyeing Jimmy. “You both ARE kinda cute…” The brunette shrugged in agreement. She pulled a penny from the pocket of her short shorts. “Heads, you get your way. Tails,” she said, flipping the coin, “we get to dress you up like ladies.”
The coin flipped, up in the air, then down to the floor. All four bent down eagerly to see how it landed. It was… TAILS!
“Nooo! That’s no fair!” Robert howled. “I don’t wanna wear lipstick! I don’t wanna do this!”
“Too bad,” the brunette said and grabbed him by the arm and led him into the nearest empty hotel room. “I'm Karen and that’s Darlene.”
Darlene, a cute blonde, smiled and led Jimmy by his gold necklace into the same room. “I can’t believe our luck.”
***
“Close your eyes,” Darlene said, and Robert obeyed. He felt something soft brush across his eyelids and it tickled. Then her fingers touched his face. “Hold still.” Oh no, not the eyeliner! Then he opened his eyes, one at a time, to receive mascara on his long blonde lashes.
Jimmy was in a similar state of embarrassed delight. This was weird, degrading. But it was so…fun. He hadn’t expected to enjoy it. Karen applied red lipstick to Jimmy’s lips. He tried to open his eyes. “Not yet,” she insisted.
“What should they wear?” Darlene asked.
“How about this?”
“No, he wouldn’t fit that, but it sure would look good on him.”
Giggles. “And this bracelet goes so well with that top.”
Jimmy and Robert would have rolled their eyes if they hadn’t been told to keep them closed. What was the deal with girls and clothes, anyway? Jeez, nobody cares if your top matches your skirt. You’d look better without either of them.
The girls whispered and agreed. Robert felt something soft and silky go over his head, and hands pulled it down. Beads slid over his wrists and a small brush touched his fingernails. Oh no. They were painting their nails too.
“You look gorgeous,” one of the girls said right in Jimmy’s ear. “Cool, he fits this. And it’s mine. Nice to be skinny.”
Jimmy gasped as something tightened around his waist. “Not a corset! Please.”
“It’s not,” she replied. “Crap. It’s a little smaller than I thought.” She took it off him and something else wrapped around his chest. A bra. Robert would pay for this!
Their hair was fixed, leaving wads of it in the girls’ brushes that they would undoubtedly keep as souvenirs, and a bow placed in Jimmy’s hair. Teeny-tiny barrettes decorated Robert’s golden locks.
“Good thing you’ve got big feet, Karen. They need shoes,” Darlene said and guided Jimmy backwards to a chair, trying a pair of platforms on him. They fit.
“Oh my god! How do you wear these things?” shrieked Robert. “My toes are being crushed!” Unbeknownst to him, a pair of high, high red heels were on his feet.
“You get used to it,” Karen hissed. Robert gritted his teeth.
After a few last touches Robert and Jimmy were led to a full-length mirror. “Now you can look.”
“I'm afraid,” Jimmy said, unsure whether he was playing or serious. “What’d you do to us?”
Robert exploded into laughter beside him. “OH MY LORD!! You oughta see your face Jimmy… and look at me…!”
Jimmy opened one eye reluctantly. Then both wide. He didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. So he laughed in mirth and total horror.
They looked like whores. Makeup too bright, clothes too tight. Jimmy wore a strapless dress that barely passed the fingertip test. A lime green bra underneath it, showing with its straps over his shoulders. His thin legs were encased in slinky bright-pink lace hose and his feet were in platform sandals of many colors. His nails and lips were painted deep cherry red and a bow with a fake flower sewed in the middle held his hair back from his face. Greenish-blue eyeshadow covered his eyelids and his eyes were outlined in black. He noticed he wore the same pink blush that Robert did. The girls’ Polaroid cameras flashed but Jimmy didn’t bother posing.
God, Robert looked even worse, so awkward and wrong he actually looked pretty. When Jimmy squinted, he didn’t see Robert. He saw a beautiful blonde girl, from California, her cheeks sun-kissed, lipstick in coral pink, joyful and bright, maybe a little too wide in he shoulders, but just the same.
Robert’s legs had been shaved. A razor nick was visible near his knee. His fingernails were bright pink. A blue silk dress, gathered at the waist, brought out his blue eyes. Wads of tissue filled out the front of the dress. A bracelet of fake pearls was around his arm. Small jeweled barrettes decorated his golden hair and there were two rings on his left hand. He wore red high heels that made him at least six inches taller. Robert’s feet were already growing red and sore from the strain. A beauty mark had been painted next to his nose. He looked like Marilyn Monroe with slightly darker hair.
Jimmy was speechless. This was WRONG. This was awful, terrible, just unthinkable. But…it wasn’t so bad.
“My god, Robert,” he finally whispered. “You look…amazing.”
“Why thank you, Jimmy. Or, should I say Jimmette?” Robert leaned in too quickly for Jimmy to react and kissed him on the lips.
Jimmy was even more shocked. This is just a bad dream, he tried to tell himself, and pinched his arm. But he didn’t wake. This was real.
Well, you only live once, he said. Why not make it good. So he kissed Robert back, no longer caring what people would say.
The door creaked open and they sprang apart. The girls had returned. He hadn’t even noticed they’d left. And they had Bonzo and Jonesy in tow. Oh boy.
“Look who else we got!” Karen squealed joyfully. Jonesy tried his best to appear indifferent, but failed to hold back laughter upon seeing Robert and Jimmy all dressed up.
Bonzo let loose a long belly laugh and slapped his knee, going red in the face. “Jesus Robert! You look like the bird I fucked in Leeds!”
“You’ll have to excuse his French, he’s not exactly Mr. Manners,” Robert said.
“That’s alright,” said Darlene. “He’ll pay for his rudeness.” She pushed Bonzo into a chair where she and Jimmy held him down, plucking his mustache hairs one by one painfully. “Ow! Ow! Bloody hell!”
After ordering drinks from room service Karen and Robert set to work on Jonesy. “Why are you doing this?” Jonesy asked rather awkwardly.
“Don’t you know how to have fun?” Robert snorted incredulously. “Every time we want to party, ride motorcycles through the halls and stuff, you’re always cooped up in your room doing who knows what or on the phone with your wife… Live a little! It’s always about work for you!”
Jonesy shrugged. “That’s just the way I see i—mmmmfff!”
“Be quiet, you,” Robert hissed. “He’s on the phone.”
“Peter, can you go out to a bridal store and get us a wedding dress? Like one with a fifty-foot train?” Jimmy asked. “Huh? Yeah. Okay.”
He hung up. “Jonesy,” he said heavily, “you’re getting lucky. You get to be a bride. Long white dress.”
Jonesy shut his eyes in regret, but was jarred into awareness by Robert shaking him enthusiastically. “C’mon, Jones, it’ll be fun! All work and no play has made Jonesy a very dull boy! Go with it.”
After a few drinks Jonesy loosened up. He began to smile and even laugh nervously as Karen and Robert did his makeup and painted his nails in a nice French manicure. He would look nice and modest, like his natural personality. No screaming blue eyeshadow. No lipstick so red it attracted hummingbirds. No fake jewelry. Just Jonesy in a white dress, understated and elegant.
Bonzo was getting the same treatment Robert and Jimmy had. Skimpy groupie clothing and makeup from Glitter-Rock Hell. He wore a pink slip, sky blue beret and green tights. His hairy legs ripped holes in them but the girls didn’t seem to care. He squirmed as his nails were painted blue. Someone turned on the radio and “Bang a Gong” by T. Rex began to play loudly. Robert danced, unable to resist the beat of music.
Some struggles later Bonzo was dressed, mustache plucked away, gone, lips painted hot pink, and Karen snapped a picture. Shortly afterward Jonesy’s dress arrived and he was zipped into it. Veil, white roses and all. The Beatles’ “She Loves You” played, both versions in English and German. Bonzo sang along drunkenly: “Sie liebe dich, yeah, yeah, yeah, Sie liebe dich, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…”
“Awww, Jonesy, you’re beautiful,” Robert said. He really was. And he liked it. He was actually having fun. Everyone was a bit tipsy and uninhibited, open and free to do what they pleased without the constricts of social rules.
“Now you may all kiss the bride,” Darlene giggled, and everybody including herself stepped forward to kiss Jonesy. The Polaroid camera flashed again and again. The music changed to “Looking for a Kiss” by the New York Dolls.
When it was Bonzo’s turn, he seemed reluctant. “Oh, come on now, if I kissed him so can you,” Jimmy said. So Bonzo gave him not one but three kisses, one on each cheek and one on the lips. Jonesy smiled happily and tossed the bouquet of white roses as Bonzo picked him up in his arms and carried him around the room.
Robert thumped Jimmy on the back a little harder than he’d intended. “I think Bonzo likes Jonesy.”
“He always has,” Jimmy shrugged, and they retreated to a corner and kissed, hoping both to remember and forget this strange night.
- 1
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You Get Used To It