talk show on mute.

Tue, 24 Nov 2009 05:40:08 GMT

logan lerman (gen; au)
pg-13

logan doesn't remember the first time he killed.

his therapist likes to tell him that he strung his cat up by his sister's jump rope when he was twelve. right before passing out in the grass beneath it. but his mother tells him that when he was six he squeezed his cousin's gerbil so tight, it just stopped breathing.

"you passed out after that too," she says before she takes another drink.

logan does remember the first time he met jensen ackles.

he talks about his eyes, hands, and freckles for three full sessions before his therapist interrupts him. starts asking about if his mother has met the young man yet and he can only clear his throat and say,

"mom doesn't like the ackles very much."

his therapist's mouth is tight around his pipe and he murmurs something along the lines of, "who can blame her?" before clearly saying, "you should listen to your mother, she's a woman of good sense."

but his therapist knows all about his mother's tendencies to drink herself into a coma, so he's sure he's just bullshitting on her behalf.

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 16:40:40 GMT

dean winchester (gen)
pg

after they find their brother, dean wonders.

he wonders how many girls he's left, curled up in balls in the corner of their bathrooms. how many girls he's left completely wrecked and sobbing as they try to steady themselves against their sink. feet freezing as their toes press into the bathroom floor and their eyes settle against the test.

he knows he's careful. he's not an idiot. he's got more condoms stocked piled in the trunk of his car, next to his seemingly lifetime supply of rock salt, than any man'll ever need. ever. but condoms and drunken promises of, "i'm on the pill" or "i've got it all under control," only go so far.

and he's got that kind of rap sheet that 99% doesn't mean shit.

drabbles.

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 21:25:07 GMT

stopping to think
dean winchester/ofc
pg

when the zombies attack, dean gathers up the courage to call her.

the phone feels heavy in his hand when he presses it against his ear, straining to hear the monotone dial tone over the screams and moans outside his car. he's cowering, hiding, just for a moment.

she doesn't pick up and he doesn't expect her to. probably deleted his number. probably doesn't recognize it. and when the voicemail picks up he doesn't let himself think that she didn't answer because her corpse is rotting somewhere, mobile. he just. swallows.

the words are hard to get out but he tells her that he loves her. tells her that he's sorry for leaving. says that he wishes things could've been different. wishes he was different. it's the hardest message he's had to get through in a while.

and when he's finished he turns his phone off. just in case. just in case she calls back. he can't have the vibrations drilling into his side with his gun molded to his hand. can't have her vibrant voice ringing in his head when he brings the gun to almost rest on his shoulder.

ready, aim, fire.

way too hallow and cold
gen (maybe dean winchester/castiel if you want it so)
pg-13

dean doesn't watch cas die.

sam's coming back from the deli down the street from their motel. bagged sandwiches in his left hand and gun in his right. he doesn't bother hiding it anymore. doesn't have to. the police, the pedestrians don't care. as long as he isn't assaulting, robbing, looting, he's allowed to stay strapped.

and that's all sam can think about during the long walk between the motel and the restaurant. the apocalypse. how the destruction of humanity is more brutal than he could ever imagine. how he's saved a daughter from her mother's hands wrapped around her thick throat. how he's saved a brother from his sister's wrath, by baseball bat.

how he wishes it was all about angels and demons and whoever won would just wipe out the world with a snap of a finger. not slow and hot like this.

dean doesn't watch cas die. sam does.

sam watches as a body falls in front of their motel door, arm out and reaching for the handle. he watches his knees go crashing to the ground, first, and face, second. he runs and watches as every orifice (eyes, nose, mouth) slowly bleed out.

he kneels, next to his body, knees imprinting the trench coat into the pavement. he drops the sandwiches and keeps the gun. he says, "cas," and opens his mouth to yell, "dean!" but the angel (the man) has a bloody hand balled into the edge of his shirt.

he manages a, "don't," and sam blinks. "don't. not dean." he says and sam doesn't.

"i don't understand. he would-"

"don't. sam. don't, let dean. see."

cas coughs. hacks. sam can hear the blood clotting in his throat and he's. he's fucking dying. his fist starts shaking around the hold of his shirt and sam says, "cas," when his fingers fall. "i have to get dean," he tells him.

cas' eyes. his red, bursting. full eyes widen and he says, "No. Sam Winchester. You won't."

and he doesn't. he just. stays and watches as cas breathes in.

crush pt.1
logan lerman/jensen ackles
pg

so logan has a crush. and it's not a big deal.

he's a seventeen year old boy and he's entitled to these things as much as he's entitled to his voice cracking in mid-conversation with johnny depp.

yeah.

and he tries. he really does. to think about that one time jessica alba's mouth was wrapped around his finger. take after take after take. but that really doesn't get him as riled up as. well. anything jensen ackles does.

logan has a crush and its on a thirty-something male actor. perfect.

when he tells alex she practically trails him for a week saying things like, "lets go back to my place and watch supernatural" or "have you seen my bloody valentine yet? we should totally rent it". and every time she speaks he just politely declines because a)he owns every supernatural dvd and would rather watch them by himself and b)he's seen my bloody valentine four times already, thankyouverymuch.

however, alex doesn't seem to take the hint and he really. really wants to kill her when she drags him along to a cw event.

"it'll be fun," she says, putting her earrings on the car. "he'll be there and you can finally talk to him."

logan just narrows his eyes because, "how did you even get invited to this thing again?"

"oh, i'm friends with your boyfriends girlfriend."

and thats just awesome.

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 03:45:04 GMT

have you gotten lost on your trip to planet earth?
harry/dougie (mcfly)
g

inspired by this.

Harry doens't think he's real. Not at all the time just.

Sometimes he finds himself staring a little too hard the side of his face and, he forgets. He forgets his troubles, his woes, his heartache, his pain and he just. Is.

And Dougie. It doens't weird him out like it used to. He stops asking, "Why?" and starts asking, "What?" because he needs to know what's going on in his head.

Harry tells him because he knows without him. He'd be close to nothing. Nothing but a sheer exsistence that fades into the night with the sun. But with him. He's as bright as the stars that cascade across the sky on the nights that it's just the two of them.

Harry and Dougie. Alone. Finally. Together.

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 02:25:29 GMT

snow slowly turns to blue
harry/julia, danny/melinda (mcfly, ofc)
pg

He calls her two nights before Christmas Eve and tells her he isn't going to be able to make it. His voice sounds two million miles away even as she presses the speaker to close to her ear as she asks, "W-w-why?"

He sighs. He sighs because he doesn't have a straight answer. He sighs because he hates that he has to do this.

"We've got a show babe. In America. They want us to do some Christmas parade and, and-"

She hangs up the phone. Because she doesn’t want him to hear her crying. She doesn’t want him to know she's hurting. This was supposed to be the first of many Christmases together and he's just turned it into ruins.

+

Her best friend, Melinda, comes to stay for a while. She's a kind girl with a smile that lights up the entire room but most of all, she knows how it feels.

"Julia," she tells her over a hot cup of hot chocolate. "It's not that bad honest."

She's been Danny's girlfriend for years. He's missed Valentines Day, New Years, her birthday, and two Christmases beforehand.

"It makes you appreciate the relationship," she tells her. "Makes the two of you stronger."

+

Harry calls her six times the next night. Between the hours of 10 and 11 her phone is constantly ringing, the sounds of, Kiss Me blaring straight to her ear drums.

She wants to throw her phone to the other side of the room, but she doesn’t. She simply waits for the calls to stop coming and eventually, they do.

They dwindle down to text messages which dwindle down to nothing more than the sound of her battery, dying.

+

"You call him," is what Melinda tells her when they're out Christmas shopping. "I know he's worried about you. He said so on the phone last night."

"You talked to him?" is all she says as she picks up a copy of 24 – The Deluxe Box Set and contemplates buying it.

"Of course," she says. "We're friends but I knew something was wrong when he called at 11:30."

Julia sighs. She fingers the gift as she holds it in her hands, the vision of his face on Christmas Day as she hands it to him, flickering dimly in the back of her mind. She puts it back.

"Call him," Melinda says when she gives her no response, all before picking up the gift. "And buy this. He'll love you for it."

+

Christmas Eve Julia finds herself sitting on their couch, alone. There's a Dr. Seuss marathon on and she watches film after film, wondering what he's doing. He hasn't tried to call her. No, "Merry early Christmas," no, "I miss you," and no, "I love you".

Just the old messages from the other day that she has yet to delete. She just keeps, listening to them.

The doorbell rings.

She doesn’t want to answer it incase it's someone she doesn’t know - carolers or something - because she's dressed in only sleep pants and a small t-shirt she stole from her little brother. She isn't decent. But they ring the bell again and she decides, it's probably Melinda.

She walks to the front door, doesn’t bother looking through the peep whole, and opens the door wide. Standing on the mat in front of the flat is Harry - covered in snow and undoing his scarf - a wide smile on his face.

"Merry early Christmas, baby."

I like following trends so....

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 21:15:51 GMT

Give me one of my own stories, and a time stamp sometime in the future after the end of the story, or sometime in the past before the story started, and I'll write you at least a hundred words of what happened then, whether it's five minutes before the story started or ten years in the future.

Sat, 29 Nov 2008 22:11:44 GMT

revenge tastes sweeter
tom/lydia, danny/unknown (mcfly,oc)
r

He breaks her wrist when he’s got his back turned.

It’s a punk move really, he doesn’t see it so he can’t defend her, doesn’t even know what’s going on until she lets out a howl of a pain. That’s when he turns his attention back to the monster, the thing that’s wearing such a wide smirk as he curls a hand around her ankle.

“Don’t do anything stupid Tom,” he warns because he can almost feel her pulse - down there - through his fingertips and he wants. Wants to kill her. “Just stay right where you are.”

He’s baring his fangs, fresh blood drowning the bones as somewhere, Harry lies in the corner, bloodless, pale, and dead. And Tom can’t move, doesn’t move, because the only thing he’s got his a stake in his hand and there’s no way he can reach him before his teeth are in her skin.

“Good boy,” he says when Tom’s vision falters, from his dark, soulless eyes, to her wide ones - full of fear and pain.

“T-tom,” she says, voice weak as one hand is around her wrist. “P-please.”

She’s practically shaking from fear and he wants to help her so he moves one. inch.

There’s an animalistic hiss leaves his mouth as his grip on her ankle tightens and somehow, Tom hears a bone, crack.

“Don’t. Move. Tom.”

She’s sobbing now, head against the tile and he knows there’s pain searing beneath her skin.

“What do you want with her?” he asks.

He, laughs.

“You know what I want,” he says, voice low and dangerous. “I want her body over there,” and he points to Harry, “and over there,” to Dougie who’s just as dead. “I want her in pieces Tom and there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, you can do about it.”

He can’t look at her, eyes burning deep into his as he tries to block out her voice. Her sobbing, uncontrollable and she’s starting to shake and he. He doesn’t. He can’t.

“Danny,” he says. “Danny please, don’t. Just. Let her go mate, please.”

Danny lets out another laugh, sick and reverberating about the room as he throws his head back and bares his throat.

“Let her go?” he says, wild eyes trained on his. “Tell me Tom, did you let her go when those two came with the fire? Did you let her go when they stabbed the stake through her heart and relished her death?!”

Tom looks away, breaks eye contact for a second as slow flashbacks of her body in his arms - struggling and living - as they, murdered her.

“She was going to kill us all, Danny. And you know that.”

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I could control her. If you would’ve just let me-”

“This isn’t about her Danny!” Tom interrupts, voice almost as loud as his counterparts. “This, is about Lydia, now let. her. go.”

Danny stares, for a moment, eyes like slits as he watches Tom’s every move. He’s only sitting there, hand tight around the stake as Danny looks - for two seconds - at the girl’s body on the floor.

“You aren’t the one calling the shots here,” he says, eying her neck as she twists and cranes it. “That would be my job.”

He licks his lips as a tear runs down her cheek, chin, and drops onto her collarbone.

“And you were wrong about her,” he says, a small, transfixing, smile playing across his lips. “I’m going to kill you all.”

Wed, 19 Nov 2008 10:28:26 GMT

a colorful conquest of friends and lovers (make love not warcraft) :: pt.1
jess/tom, keri/harry (mcfly/other)
pg-13

She comes to visit during the holidays.

And it’s odd because she hasn’t seen the two of them - the golden couple - for months and when she greets them on their doorstep it’s, weird. Because something’s changed but she can’t put her finger on it and after settling her bags in the guest room, she gets it.

“You guys moved in together huh?” she asks Jess as she stands against the door frame of the kitchen. The girl blushes and nods and all Keri can do is grin and say, “Finally.”

When she throws something at her - a pack of candies - Keri ducks it with a laugh, smiling, which is a welcome change from the long, exhaustive nights she’s spent on the phone with him - screaming. But she doesn’t let them know that. She doesn’t let them on the real reason why she’s here. Not yet.

+

She realizes, two days into her stay, that Tom has a new obsession. It’s clear from Jess’s face when she descends down the stairs, voice heavy, as she states, “He’s not coming,” that it's wearing something awful on their personal time.

But she doesn’t butt in, doesn’t ask too many questions - her friend's face clearly begging her not to. Just smiles as she slides her coat over her shoulders and asks, “Where to?”

Jess grabbing the keys and stating, “Anywhere warm.”

+

“Where’s Harry?” is the first thing Tom asks when Jess leaves for work - her job stating that it’s an emergency.

The two of them - Tom and Keri - are sitting at the breakfast bar, hands around mugs full of hot coffee when his eyes look into hers and her voice becomes caught in her throat.

“He’s um...He’s, at home,” she says with a nod, eyes downcast and trying, trying, not to fill with tears at the realization that she has no clue as to his where he could possibly be. Hasn’t been home for weeks.

“And he didn’t want to come?” he asks, cup to his lips as he takes one large drink.

Keri can’t face him. She can’t look into his eyes and lie about his best friend he’ll. He’ll know. So she keeps her eyes glued to the cream carpet as she shakes her head and says, “He’s...Busy.”

+

Six hours later - when Keri’s in bed and Jess and Tom are in the living room, trying to wade off sleep - Tom gets the phone call. And Harry sounds exhausted as he rants into the receiver that,

“She can stay there for all I care at least...At least she’s safe. But, but, tell her when - if she ever - comes back I. I won’t be there...She’ll, she’ll know why.”

+

Jess begs, one arm in a sleeve and the other struggling to find it’s partner, as she stands in the foyer of their home, eyes wide as she says,

“Please Tom. Don’t say anything. She’s got enough on her plate without us meddling in her problems.”

+

She gets thirty minutes to herself - thirty minutes since Jess left - before there’s a knock at the door.

Her voice is small and soft when she says, “Come in,” knowing it’s Tom. Wanting to know what he could possibly want.

His face is careful, smile small as he eyes her carefully, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. He doesn’t let the silence set it. It’s quick and almost noticeable, eyes locking with each other through the mirror on the vanity as he asks, “Are you - are you alright?”

She doesn’t know that he knows, she doesn’t care if he does know, she just. Breaks. Down. Into hysterics as her face falls into her hands and she can’t do it anymore. She can’t hold up and not let this get to her because isn’t here and he won’t see how weak she is anyhow.

Tom doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let out a whisper of her name or any other warning that he’s coming to hold her. He just, does.

And the two of them sit - hours unknown - as her sobs turn into soft cries that turn into her head in his neck as sniffs and wallows.

+

“What...What’s he doing up there you think?” Keri asks when Tom - again - declines to hanging out with the two of them.

His Chinese is getting cold, sitting on the kitchen counter, Jess refusing to give it to him.

“He’s um...Playing a, a video game.”

She doesn’t mean to laugh but her answer is so, surprising. She expects something else - writing new songs working on a piano piece - but. She stops.

Her face is slight reddened when her friend narrows her eyes and says, “I’m not kidding.”

All she can answer with is, “Oh.”

They sit in silence, watching the figures on the television screen move back and forth - listening to the projected laughs - before Jess gets up, almost finished her food.

“I’ll be back,” she says, voice barely being heard over the television screen as she makes sure all of Tom’s food is in one bag - heading up the stairs.

+

She tries not to listen - that night - when the two of them seem at each other’s throats, words harsh and loud as the bang against the wall and flood the hallway. She knows what they’re arguing about, the stupid video game, and she wishes that she never asked. At all.

Because Jess seems to more annoyed and Tom, he, “I just...I want to go to bed Jess! Stop fucking screaming for six seconds so I can accomplish that!”

She thinks - she’s going to kick him out. He’s going to have to sleep on the couch and Keri just may have to damage control in the morning. But, it doesn’t happen like that. Jess simply sighs, calms down enough to gather up things before stomping out of the bedroom, down the hall, and slamming the door of the other guest bedroom.

Keri hears it, Tom’s almost inaudible, “Shit,” as he the bed creaks and she’s sure he’s sitting there, head in his hands as he contemplates what the hell is going on.

Wed, 12 Nov 2008 01:25:15 GMT

three, random, drabbles
harry/viola (mcfly, oc) and danny/dougie (mcfly) and tom/isis (mcfly, oc)
pg-13

and we’ll go down as two crazy kids, off their fucking rocker, man

The thing about Harry and Viola is that they are sickening. And it’s not the kind of sick you get in the pit your stomach that’s fleshed out by jealousy after seeing a random couple make out. No. It’s the sick of illness that creeps up your throat every time a pet name of pulling of a strand of hair is seen/heard from the corner of one’s eye. The point is, they’re the worst couple in history.

::

Isis thought, she really did, that Slytherin’s were hardcore badasses that could give two shits about relationships. She thought they didn’t have relationships - they fucked around. And she voices this to Alex when they’re in the library studying for a Potions test and she asks,

“Where do you get your logic from?”

Half of it it’s from her Slytherin cousin, Greg, and the other half is from pure gossip that spreads through the Ravenclaw house like wildfire.

“Oh,” Alex says with a small shrug. “Well..Hmm. That explains a lot.”

it burns a hole, through everyone that feels it

Dougie hasn’t talked to Danny in three weeks.

And this isn’t the first time that this happened - the last was when he broke his broomstick and the only thing he had to say for it was, “Sorry about that,” before walking out of the room.

That fight lasted a month. This fight looks as if it’s going to last longer.

And it’s not like either of them can specifically tell when they started being pissed off at each other it just, happened. And maybe, maybe Dougie should’ve gave Danny a head’s up that he was coming out to his parents in that letter that was two pieces of parchment long. But Dougie didn’t think it was that big of a deal. His parents love Danny and they already think they’re, “together”.

“I wish...I wish you would stop staring at me,” Dougie says when they’re in the locker room, changing after a practice.

“Yeah, well. I’m not staring.”

They’re the only two left, the two of them chatting with the other members, completely forgetting to get undressed. And it’s a bit of habit that they’ve fallen into over the years, hanging back.

“Fuck, Danny,” Dougie says when he pulls his shirt over his head. “Stop. Staring.”

And he can feel the others eyes on his skin, but he still insists, “I’m not staring. Stop thinking that I give a shit.”

Dougie feels a familiar anger crawl up his chest as he grits his teeth as he says, “You do give a shit. If you didn’t, you’d be fucking speaking to me right now.”

“What the fuck do you think I’m doing then?”

There’s a huff that passes the blonde’s lips as he tugs the new shirt down his torso and says, “You’re...You’re avoiding the entire situation. You’re making a big deal out of nothing!”

Danny stops moving. Stops, pulling his adjusting his shirt and forgets about his pants. He snaps.

“Nothing! What...Dougs, honestly? Nothing? Because, because, coming out to my parents wasn’t...Wasn’t nothing. It was fucking miserable and they hate me. They hate you and they...They don’t speak to me and want me out of their lives forever. The only reason they put up with me is because Dumbledore fucking begged them to. As soon as I’m out of this school I’m, I’m next to dead to them.”

He’s done and his breathing’s harsh and labored and he’s taken eight steps towards Dougie and he’s an arms reach away. The blond - Dougie - he’s used to this. He’s used to Danny loosing his temper and not. loosing. his.

Because this...He...He just, forgot.

He pushed the harsh memory of the howler Danny was sent last year of his parents banning him from their home and Dougie, from their memory. He pushed back holding Danny as he sobbed throughout the entire night, offering his dorm to his roommates.

“Danny,” is all he can say. And it’s enough. It’s barely enough but it’s. Enough. And the brunette’s collapsing in his arms and he isn’t crying. He’s done with that but he’s sighing, effortlessly. Relieved and elated.

“I fucking hate fighting with you,” he says in his shoulder and Dougie nods.

“I know,” he says. “Me too.”

i’ve never been one for words

See, Tom he, he never asked a girl out in his life. It may seem unbelievable (he’s sixteen for Merlin’s sake) but he, he hasn’t. And he blames it on his mum and her sheltering him until he was ten but...no matter what. He’s a loser.

It takes practically everything he has - plus a little push from Alex - to finally ask Isis to the Halloween dance during the Quidditch match.

He does it when Hufflepuff’s up 28 points against Ravenclaw, puts his book in his lap and asks, “Do you...You wanna go to the um, dance with me?”

His voice is loud and clear not only because Guy’s not commentating, but because he just so happened to push the microphone towards Tom’s mouth by mistake. And the. entire. stadium. heard. him.

He wishes he could curl up in a ball and die.

His face is practically painted red as Guy stares at him and he can almost make out the stunned look on Professor McGonagall’s face and he wants an answer, but,

“Me? You want to go to the dance with me?” Isis looks absolutely stunned herself.

“Yes,” he says in a small, almost inaudible voice and he wants.

“Okay,” she says. “I’ll go to the dance with you.”

The crowd doesn’t hear it, the microphone’s still pushed his way but they do hear the, “Really?” coming from both himself and Guy.

“Yeah,” she says with a shy shrug. “Why not?” and this time, Guy’s ready with the microphone pointed towards her and her answer resounding through the stands.

There’s a cheer from Alex and the boys and Tom wishes his face would. stop. reddening. But it just gets worse when Professor McGonagall asks,

“Can we get on with the game?!” and Guy nods before commenting on their situation, smiling, and adding,

“Delicious.”

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 10:59:46 GMT

the first time
dougie/danny (mcfly)
pg-13

The first time it happens, Dougie’s just. Dougie’s confused.

Because it’s after the feast - three minutes after he disperses from the Great Hall. Trying to keep up with the others. But he’s smaller than his entire class and he. cannot. see. over the top of some kid’s head. And everyone’s heading up stairs, winding and talking and he’s looking for a blond haired girl - Casey? Stacey? - who he talked to for two seconds.

But he can’t see her and when he bumps into Slytherin second year, he decides he’s screwed.

This guy - this kid - he knows. He plays Quidditch for his house. “Good enough to be captain, that Harry Judd,” he heard the blond girl (Tracy?) say. And he’s glaring at him, one hand tucked into his robe and the other clutched around his wand and Dougie gulps.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” he says.

His eyes are big and forgiving and he’s practically, silently, begging for him to just let him leave at least one more day. At least so he can see his dorm.

He doesn’t have to worry about that because there’s a girl, beside him, and she’s smiling at him. It’s warm, inviting, and she tells him, “It’s alright,” before patting Harry on the shoulder.

Harry, he doesn’t smile. He just looks before turning away.

He’s grateful for, whoever she is, for saving his life. His skin. But he’s still confused. Still lost and he wants to call and ask her for help but. She’s out of sight. And he’s on the verge on panicking - on the verge of breaking down into tears and sobbing on the floor - but he manages to keep himself composed. Manages to hold the sobs in his throat and the tears behind his eyes as, frantically, he looks around for a Gryffindor.

The Slytherin’s are gone and he’s only got sight of the Ravenclaw’s and he’s. so. screwed.

But then, then, there’s a hand on his shoulder and it spins him around - effortlessly.

He says, “You. You’re Dougie...Dougie Poynter. Right?” and Dougie nods.

This boy - he remembers him from the table: second year, Quidditch team, Danny Jones.

“First year right?”

Dougie nods.

“You know,” he says, hand still there. “You shouldn’t be wandering away from the group like that.”

Dougie nods again because he does know. And usually, he’s more responsible. He doesn’t break sight of anyone he’s following. But he’s so interested in the talking, the moving portraits, and the magic, and he’s from a Muggle (whatever that means) family.

This is all new. This is all weird.

“Come on,” Danny says offhandedly.

He’s taller and moves his hand from his shoulder to his waist - taking his time, dragging the palm of his hand down his spine until it rests right. there. And Dougie’s baffled. wondering. Because it’s the first time Danny touches him and he. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t get the sweltering of his chest and the knotting of his stomach. Doesn’t get it because he’s young. But he doesn’t fight it (doesn’t give in either) just allows the brunette to lead him up the almost empty staircase and allows him to keep. talking.

“You’re gonna love it here Dougs,” he says. “Promise.”

Mon, 27 Oct 2008 10:14:30 GMT

and we breathe, short and heavy
dougie/robert downey jr. (mcfly/rps)
nc-17

+ mcflyslash fic-a-thon! entry and I swear I didn't think that I was going to get anything in - particularly this one. Because I knew I wanted smut but I can't write smut and this is me being ambitious and fucking stubborn because I wanted the prompt and got it. Needless to say, I'm happy with it. I finished it and I actually think it's an ounce of good.

Robert opens the bathroom door with his shoulder and almost - almost - falters over his own two feet.

He doesn’t like to think about how he gets himself into these situations, how he manages to fall into a compromising positioning with someone he didn’t know this morning, but he always does. And he isn’t complaining, won’t ever complain, but he just likes to know what draws random people (usually male) towards him. And he wishes he could ask but at this pressing time, this kid - 21, blond, and in some band - has his tongue shoved down his throat and yeah, he can’t breathe.

He’s a pro at this, Robert concludes, when he manages to push the two of them into a bathroom stall, lock the door, and keep his composure all while he’s got his bottom lip in between his teeth and his hands practically shoved down his pants. And all thoughts, all questions, almost go out the window when he feels his small fingers touch the base of his cock and his head tips back and rests against the door of the bathroom stall. But he manages to collect himself, manages to disconnect their lips, quick to enough to ask,

“What - what the fuck - what’s your name kid?”

And his lips are working down his chin, tongue scraping against his stubble and almost towards the base of his neck when the blond looks up. And Robert can almost make out the color of his eyes through the bleached fringe when he smirks. And he’s expecting, oh so wanting, to hear him say something cliché and dirty. Quick and perverted so they can just get this over with, but he doesn’t.

He says, “It’s Dougie,” and Robert doesn’t even get a chance to nod before his hands are settled on his belt loop.

Robert, for a split second, wonders if this kid - Dougie - knows who he is. Sure, they’re at his premier but, fuck (his hands are cold, too cold), he’s too young to remember Less Than Zero and he’s too old to be watching The Shaggy Dog. And he’s sure, doesn’t seem like the type, to watch any of his movies in between.

But it’s not like it makes any difference because within seconds his pants are pooled around his ankles and Dougie’s on his knees, palms pressing into the top of his sneakers as he leans in licks. From the base of his cock to the tip, he drags his tongue agonizingly slow and,

“Jesus.” Robert throws all coherent thinking out the door.

His hands are practically shaking at his sides, fingers tingling at the tips as he tries to figure out where. to. put. them. Because he doesn’t want to rush the kid, Dougie taking his time, licking random patches of skin - here and there - so he keeps his fists to himself. Bunches the bottom of his dress shirt.

His gaze is fixated on the ceiling, for a moment, and when he looks down, wondering - “Why doesn’t he hurry the fuck up?” - he’s looking straight at him, tongue out and wetting his bottom lip. And Robert can’t recall when he stopped licking his cock but, fuck, he doesn’t really care. He just wants him to,

“Come on kid. I don’t have all day,” and he’s sure that he doesn’t either.

The movie’s almost over and he saw the irritated look on the boy’s friends - band mates? - faces when he left the cinema to run to the toilets.

And he’s not sure - can’t fucking see through all the hair - but Dougie rolls his eyes before wetting his lips once more and parting them, slightly, and allowing his cock to push them open.

It gets harder, for Robert to keep his hands to himself, the back of his head pressing into the metal door as his eyes squeeze shut. He bites the inside of his cheek, to keep himself from yelling out, as his hands tug at his shirt tighter. And Dougie’s not even moving much - just engulfing it all - but his mouth’s so hot and tight and fuck he hasn’t gotten a blow job in months.

He feels himself hit the back of his throat and thank god he didn’t move his hips and Dougie, he starts to pull back. His movement is slow and his bottom teeth are dragging across his underside and it hurts but, fuck, fuck, fuck, if it doesn’t feel good.

He pulls off, all the way, lips puckering around the head. His tongue stays darted between them, the muscle pressing into the head and the wave of pleasure feels almost unbearable, coursing through his thighs and to his knees, that Robert can’t help it. He grips the back the boy’s head - hand full of waves - as he tugs, softly.

Dougie doesn’t mind, doesn’t jerk, doesn’t move, just takes it a sign of encouragement and opens his mouth further, taking it all in. He hollows his cheeks this time, movements nice and steady as he, slowly, bobs his head up and down his cock. And Robert watches, through his eyelashes, as Dougie’s eyes slip close, as he concentrates and,

“Oh my...” it feels way too nice.

He feels himself settling into the feeling, head tipping back once more, but this time, a lot calmer. And no sound rings out when it hits the door - just an unbearably soft bang as he slips his eyes close and lets himself enjoy this.

It’s been months since his last blow job but fucking weeks since he’s got off.

He gets bold a few minutes in, needing Dougie to go a little faster, but his mouth is too dry and his words aren’t coming out and he - he can’t speak. So he moves his hand and pushes the boy’s head further onto his cock and he feels himself, hitting the back of his throat and he fucking - he fucking gags. And Robert never knew he had a kink for that sort of thing but it feels, weird, and he wants. He wants to do it again, but,

“Fuck. S-sorry kid,” and he doesn’t.

Dougie, he mumbles something - an acceptance to his apology - fucking something that causes his words to hum around his cock and the vibrations speed through to his brain too fast. Way too fast. And he just,

“Kid - just...Faster, please.” And all he had to do was ask.

Dougie complies with his wishes as his darts out his tongue, swirls it around his member - fast but compliant to the speed of his mouth moving on and off the stretch of skin. And Robert feels himself getting closer and closer, his fingertips pressing into his scalp as the build up becomes more and more tense. And he can feel it, fucking, seconds away, and,

“Come on,” because screw tact - screw fucking stamina.

He’s almost. there. When his phone vibrates in his pocket on the bathroom.

Robert wants to tell him to forget about it and finish but Dougie; he’s already got his mouth off his cock. And, fuck, he wants to ask what kind of right he has - answering his phone - but it’s only a text message.

“It’s from Susan,” he says, showing him the screen.

The message is: discretion.

Fuck. He’s not screwed - Susan doesn’t get worked up over these types of things - but he has to fucking finish. But Dougie’s off his knees and he’s fixing his hair and he’s smirking. He’s two seconds away from speaking when Robert has one hand to the back of his neck and he’s pulling him into a kiss. Hot and heavy.

The boy knows how to take a hint - hand immediately going for his cock and wraps his fingers around and starts stroking. Two, long and slow, and the rest, fast and desperate. To get him off. And it doesn’t take long - just over the time it takes for them to run out of air - and he’s coming right. onto. the boy’s. pants.

He wishes he could fucking care but he’s too busy being spent, forehead pressing into his shoulder, as he breathes.

Then, then there’s another vibration. This time closer and pressing into his thigh. And Dougie shuffles, curses under his breath as his hand snakes into his pocket and he starts fumbling with his phone. He presses the keypad - fast - as he types out a message and hits send.

“Fuck you, Harry,” his says under his breath as he shows him the previous message:

Dipshit movie’s over. seriously. you did this tonight?

Tue, 21 Oct 2008 23:32:28 GMT

in this green and yellow heat
dougie/harry (mcfly)
pg-13

A/N: Written in the time frame when McFly actually had a van and they were all still small, young, impressionable, horny, and stupid. Also, I think this is horrible - yuck - I hope you still like it though. I wanted to go in a totally different direction (I was going to smut) but, I wanted it to get done today, so...Here it is Addye! And um, not beta'd and I'll read over it after I post it, lol. So, hopefully, I'll get to the mistakes before you read this.

Tom’s been driving for sixteen hours and honestly, Harry’s tired of hearing him beg for sleep.

His knuckles are practically white as he sits in the passengers seat and listens to the guitarist whine, voice shrill and nasally as he begs: “Please guys, let’s just fucking stop.”

It isn’t their fault that he’s the only one who has a license - but Harry does think they’re running him ragged - so he offers, “Alright. We’ll stop. But only to get something done like...wash clothes,” because they’ve got to be two cities over by 9 and it’s currently 2 am - a little break won’t hurt. Plus, their clothes are starting to rot in the small pile Danny and Dougie have made behind their seats.

The nearest laundry mat is only five hours way - open 24/7 - and it’s almost completely deserted save for the woman behind the counter. The building’s old - with its smaller windows and 70s interior - but Harry doesn’t mind because at least it’s well lit.

He’s the first one out the van, feet harsh against the pavement as he practically jumps out and slams the door. It’s his small way of waking up the other two who have fallen asleep against each other in the back seat.

Danny only moves because of Dougie - doesn’t wake up, just hits his head against the cushion of the seat as the youngest shuffles and exits the van as well. And the only thing Tom says is, “Make sure you get my t-shirts,” because he’s been wearing the same pair of jeans since the beginning of the tour and doesn’t plan on changing them any time soon.

Dougie’s still lace with sleep when they get into the building, a small yawn being muffled by his hand as he starts piling his clothes - and some of Danny’s – into the washer machine. The woman was nice enough to supply them detergent and lessons on separating clothes, before disappearing into the employee rest room.

It seems like there are hundreds of machines - Dougie taking one end of the room and Harry the other - the two of them not speaking until all the clothes are slowly being succumbed in soap.

It’s Dougie who makes the first move, the younger one still not sure if Harry’s still not talking to him. A fight lasting longer than the previous night. He’s shy and quiet when he makes his way over the drummer who’s occupying himself, glancing back and forth from the television screen in the corner.

“Hey,” he says, voice barely over a whisper as he stands with his hand sin his pocket, hip leaning against the dryer.

Harry, with an eyebrow raised, looks up at Dougie and with a hand under his chin, fingers pressed against his lips he says, “Hi.”

His words are cold, stale, and hard against Dougie’s ears. He feels like giving up already. But Tom told him - last night - that Harry would get over it, soon, if he’s patient. But the fact is, Dougie isn’t patient and he can’t stand the tension around the two, three, four of them.

“Harry,” he starts and the brunette gives him a harsh glance - pretending to be interested in what’s playing on the television. But it’s some 90s American sitcom and Dougie knows he would rather be watching anything else. “Harry,” he says again. “Come on. It was...It was only one kiss.”

Dougie doesn’t know if he spoke or not for the silence that follows his words constrict his throat - tightly. And he turns on his heels to go back to his side of the room because he just can’t stand it, when,

“You still kissed him.”

It’s a minor breakthrough, a start to an inevitable verbal argument, but at least they’re talking.

“We were drunk,” the bassist’s says as he turns back to face Harry.

The drummer’s looking at him now; eyes narrow and cold as he knew those words were coming. They were thrown about the room last night - although then, they seemed more insincere in their slurred state. Now, they just seemed used.

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “You said that last night.”

There isn’t even a hint of anger in his voice when he speaks, just a hint of disappointment, but mostly, nonchalance. For Harry’s sick of arguing - honestly - and he wants to give in but, he doesn’t want to be the one who apologizes. Not this time.

“Harry,” Dougie starts once more and the drummer shifts in his seat. He turns away from him. “Harry I don’t-” and the rest of his words get lost somewhere in the air as he tilts his head back and looks towards the lights - blinding and hot.

“Harry,” and his name rolls off his tongue as he tries to make this whole conversation go smoother, but it doesn’t. It makes it all the more personal. And the bassists’ can’t stand not looking at him, having to explain himself to the back of his head. So he moves.

He walks to stand in front of him, blocking his view of the television and the irritability is written all over his face. His lips are tight and he wants to tell him - tell Dougie - to move but he, he wants to hear what he was to say.

“Harry I...I don’t love him. It was, a mistake. We were drunk and he was lonely and horny and...And I was there and I was drunk and. I’m to blame too but,” and he sighs. “He’s my best friend and I was just trying to help in my own fucked up way and I’m sorry.”

Dougie’s eyes are wide when he talks, looking straight into Harry’s as he’s practically begging him to just forgive him already. And he didn’t believe it the night before - not with all the screaming and throwing - but now, he can’t dismiss this.

He holds out his arms, practically tugging on Dougie’s hoodie and pulling him into his lap. And he’s so small and fits perfectly, encircled in his arms. The drummer nestles his face in the blonde’s beck as Dougie settle’s in, cheek resting on top of Harry’s head as his arms fall around the elder.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, this time - more clearly.

“Me too,” Harry responds and he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for but he just, does.

drabble: drunk

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 19:20:42 GMT

drunk
dougie/whomever
r
getting drunk the night before and not remembering anything sometimes sucks.
515 wds

I crack myself up when I write small little drabbles with little to no thought behind them, only because I'm constantly trying to write these annoying epics. Anyway, excuse the fact that I have developed a compulsion that doesn't allow me to capitalize when I'm writing in notepad. It looks cool and adds to the belittling of the characters (not Dougie himself but this dougie in the story - just so we're clear).

dougie wakes up with permanent marker smeared across his neck. it doesn't have any hints of ever forming a particular shape - just a strong dab color right on his adam apple and fades out when it reaches his collar bone. he thinks he may have gotten laid last night.

he can't remember too much for he was too busy occupying his thoughts with just how much tequila he could swallow straight from the bottle. he remembers the sick liquid dripping down his throat and a very spanish name rolling off his tongue. he can't remember too much but he does remember random flashes of someone's hands on his skin. he remembers the feeling of their fingertips pressing hard against his hipbone. he can't remember too much but he remembers someone’s lips in his hair, under his ear, on his neck. he remembers someone saying, "cat's got the cream," and he remembers being very, very confused.

there's a part of him that doesn't want to shift on the mattress - a part of him that wants to lay still. something in the back of his mind is telling him that he wants this other person – his precious affair - to remain anonymous. but dougie never did pay any mind to his common sense, pushing all sensible thoughts aside as he tilts his head. and he wants to get a glimpse of…the nothingness that’s there.

he's startled by this, sits up on the mattress to make sure this someone hadn't slid further down. but he's, inevitably, alone. and then he checks on the floor - his side, the other side, under the bed - looking for any trace of someone else. but there's nothing, just him and his crap.

then he starts to wonder that maybe he was so drunk - but effortlessly coordinated - that he managed to make it home on his own. managed to catch a ride back to his place, fish out his keys, and make it all the way up the stairs. he was so worked up that he blindingly slid out of his clothes and fell onto the bed with one hand wrapped around himself and the other reaching for the lube in the drawer.

but he hasn't managed to work himself into this post-orgasmic glow since he was fourteen.

dougie lays in bed for about fifteen minutes. he stares at the ceiling and tries to piece together faces and names from the night before but comes up with nothing. there's no girl, no guy, just him and...jose cuervo.

and he's about to go back to sleep - shrug it off as a session of heated masturbation - when the annoyingly familiar ring tone blares from under his spare pillow. he tosses his head to face the noise, one hand slipping under the pillow as he grips the mobile and pulls out. there's no one calling, just a text message, but dougie can't help but grin at the name. and he flips the phone up, and opens the messages, eyes squinting slightly as he makes out: cats got the cream

drabble: in the dark

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 02:37:50 GMT

in the dark
pre-slash (panic at the disco)
pg
before the band was complete, before jon walker, before pete wentz, there was ryan, brendon, spencer, and their random nights of trying to incorporate brendon into their friendship.
310 wds

Ryan feels his breathing hitch in his throat.

The top of his foot slams against the side of someone's shoe and he mutters a quick, "sorry," that's barely heard over the others sigh. And he reaches a small hand out, tries to grab someone's limb but ends up scratch someone's skin. And he hears the person hiss - the other person in the room - and another, "sorry," is spilled.

He doesn’t like this. He wants to stumble over to the wall and find the light switch. Wants to illuminate the entire room and just get this all over with. But he doesn’t know how far away from the corner of the room. He’s traveled a long way so far, he mind as well keep on trekking.

His foot gets caught in someone's piece of clothing on the floor. It’s thin and he almost slips, almost falls right on his bum. But there's a large hand on his arm and it's holding him in place. He says, "Thanks," and reaches out once more. This time, he finds someone's thigh and his palm presses down into their leg as he regains his balance. They ask, "Are you alright?" and Ryan grins before he says, "I’m fine."

He hears a deep, disappointed, sigh coming from the right next to him. The voice is dangerously close, tickling his ear as they say, "Dammit Brendon! You just had to ruin it!"

Ryan can practically see the outline of the singer's shoulders shrug as he looks over at the drummer innocently. He says, "This was getting...No where anyway," and Ryan has to agree.

But he doesn't say anything because he's a good friend and Brendon's new. He doesn't know the rules yet. He'll get it soon enough, however. How the two of them like to think that they all look the same in the dark.

drabble: now

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 19:55:46 GMT

now
pones
pg
a small drabble about cheating
75 wds.

dougie's got his hands tight around the wheel. it's starting to hurt - starting to bruise - but he just can't stop pushing the leather into his skin. and maybe it's because no matter what; no matter how many red marks or black ink stains are left on hands, nothing will hurt more than watching Danny climb off of that girl - naked - and trying to convince him: "It's not what it looks like!"

it's inevitable//angelaizapunx//chapter 2

Tue, 15 Jul 2008 13:30:27 GMT

it’s inevitable – the end of the world
chapter 2
tom, harley, dougie, amelia, harry, evelyn, danny, sora
R
it's the aftermath and everyone has their different ways of dealing with the different challenges that the end to "all" life brings.
swearing, sexual themes, het.

previous chps.
1.

It’s dark and dingy, nothing like the back stages they use to occupy when they were both in McFly. There’s no rider or computer games, just a horridly dilapidated couch that gets illuminated by the flickering light above head.

Tom has to duck when he walks in the room and its remarkable how Dougie doesn’t. He’s still short but older in the face, the beard he’s been trying to grow for years finally shadowing his chin. It looks rough under his fingers and Tom sort of wants to touch it in the brotherly manner he’s accompanied over the years but he doesn’t want to start a wave of confusion over the heads of the younger blonde’s current band mates; the ones who occupy the small space with their girlfriends one night stands.

They all – the males and two of the females - give him a nod as he takes a seat next to Dougie on the couch. They all know him - won’t ever forget his face from all of the glossy magazine pages - and it’s small sign of respect, a line that’s drawn between them and his previous band. They know nothing about McFly and don’t care to anything about them either. Tom gets it immediately and doesn’t plan on having any small chats about the writing process for “All about You”.

Dougie takes a bottle of beer from a guy with multiple colorful tattoos that adorn almost all of the skin on his arms. Tom remembers him as the guitar player. He gives the elder blond a smile - a careful and kind one - as he offers him a drink. He shakes his head, hasn’t drunk anything sine the incident, and Dougie gives him a sympathetic look out of the corner of his eye before he gulps down the drink and sighs.

Placing the half empty bottle on the table he asks, “How’ve you been Tom?”

There are a million and one ways he could answer that question, giving him both the long and short side of things, but he’s way too tired of complaining about his turmoil’s, deciding on a simple, “Still breathing,” before asking, “and you?”

Dougie’s face falls at his answer, looks like he wants to ask but he doesn’t really have right to pry considering that this is their first conversation since he stormed out all those years ago. He answers with, “Good I guess. Still living the temporary dream,” and Tom has to look around again to catch his slight sarcasm.

Dougie picks up his beer again, finishes it off with record speed, Tom watching in amazement before there’s a knock at the door frame. There stands pretty young girl who wears a small smile and immediately Tom recognizes her. Dougie looks back at Tom and just gives him a knowing look before pressing his hands into the seat of the couch and getting up. The girl whips her long hair behind her shoulder, walking away before Dougie stretches his arms overhead.

There are still stains of sweat decorating his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind as he starts towards the door, turning his head to face Tom, asking, “You coming?” and Tom can only nod.

angelaizapunx//inevitable//chapter 1

Mon, 30 Jun 2008 14:51:22 GMT

it’s inevitable – the end of the world
chapter 1
tom, harley, dougie, amelia, harry, evelyn, danny, sora
R
it's the aftermath and everyone has their different ways of dealing with the different challenges that the end to "all" life brings.
swearing, sexual themes, het.

Tom wears a weird newsboy cap as he stands in the back of the concert hall, hot and sweaty as he watches the band play and tries not to get swayed by the teenage crowd. Its awful music, nothing like Beatles would’ve performed and he wants to get out of there so bad but he hasn’t seen his target yet.

So he stays planted on the ground and continues to watch the gyrating and jumping up and down, the sweat slicked bodies still touching all over each other and he thinks he’s about to be sick. His face is paling as it’s a little hard to breathe with the thick substance of smoke that gathers around the ceiling.

He’s just about to pass out when the lead singer drops the mic onto the stage.

It lands with a large thump and the crowd goes crazy as he lifts his arms to the sky and dives right into the mass of people, face first. Tom has to close his eyes - thinks they’re going to let him drop - but when a body doesn’t hit the floor he brings both eyes open and he watches as the man surfs the masses.

He knows exactly how it feels, like heaven. To be lifted up amongst the people that love you the most, being in their center and not caring where their hands or bodies have been. It’s all about you and them in this moment. Whatever happens, happens.

The lead singer gets dropped off at the back of the crowd and he lands on his feet right in front of Tom. He gives him a grin and Tom can only roll his eyes as his best friend moves to envelope him in a large sweaty hug. It’s disgusting and he feels like pushing him away because he’s managed not to get dirty this entire night, but in the back of his mind he remembers that they haven’t seen each other for ages and he misses him. Really and truly.

His long, grown out hair is sticking to his face as that boyish glow still prints his features. He says, “Hey what’s up Tom?” like he just saw him the other day when in reality it’s been years.

Tom only says, “Nothing, you?” as he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps them in there deep. He feels his car keys pricking his fingertips, next to the parking pass that’s only for three hours. He’s got an hour left, enough time to talk.

Dougie answers him but it goes unheard about the crowd, a group of scantily clad girls heading over towards the aged man, grins on their faces as they flash their skin. He, politely, gives them the once over, lust in the back of his eyes as he remembers he has other business to attend to. He simply nods their way before turning back to Tom and speaking low in his ear.

“Let’s go backstage where it’s quieter,” and it’s weird, the nostalgic rush that takes over him.

Mash Game: Predict Your Future at eSPIN-the-Bottle

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:02:34 GMT



		I will marry Charlie Simpson.
		After a wild honeymoon, We will settle down in Greece in our fabulous Shack.
		We will have 8 kid(s) together.
		Our family will zoom around in a blue Lamborgini.
		I will spend my days as a Screenwriter, and live happily ever after.

prompt: wings

Sat, 17 May 2008 16:11:11 GMT

angels don’t bleed
wings
Tom/Danny
for: the_first_chibi
beta'd by: armillarysphere
approx: 7802

On Monday morning Tom wakes up with wings.

He feels them as soon as he rolls out of bed. They’re heavy and he hunches all the way to the bathroom, wondering just why he’s so weighed down. He flicks on the light and rubs at his eyes before blinking multiple times, the sight of the enlarged wings attached to his back causing him to do a double take. His eyes are like saucers when the wings start to maneuver themselves, flapping back and forth as if trying to tell him that they’re actually there. For several seconds he’s simply stunned; that is, until he attempts to move them.

Because Tom’s convinced that his wings have a mind of their own. He tries to move left, they move right, when he tries to the right, they move left. When he attempts to step into his significantly smaller shower, the wings expand, hindering his attempt to clean his body. He gives up thirty minutes in, deciding that he can go a day without a proper shower; he’ll just wash at the sink.

He thinks that’s the hardest part, trying to move around the room, but he finds that his life gets a bit more difficult when he’s standing in front of his open wardrobe door, contemplating just what he’s going to wear. Nothing he owns is even remotely ripped, he never had the urge to fall into the trend, and it takes a lot of effort for him to scope out his least favourite shirt – one that used to be his most favourite – and he blindly takes scissors to the back of it, cutting out two large holes. In fact, he cuts the hole so large that it almost seems as if the shirt never had a back to being with. But he doesn’t mind it one bit, just slips the shirt over his head, maneuvers his wings to pin themselves back, and fixes it until it looks just about right.

Standing in front of the mirror again, he takes a deep breath and examines the wings just a bit further. The multiple feathers are combed so neatly back, highlighting the sun that creeps into his bedroom through the blinds. He absolutely loves them and he gives them a little flutter before placing a couple of pounds in his pocket and deciding that it’s time to face his family.

He doesn’t anticipate their reaction, simply blocks out all the negative thoughts and enters the kitchen where they usually reside in the morning. He doesn’t make a scene, doesn’t start flapping his wings uncontrollably until someone notices, he just takes two steps onto the linoleum floor. That’s when his sister looks up.

Carrie drops her spoon and it’s like the domino effect in a movie. Her spoon bounces on and out of her filled cereal bowl, painting the floor with milk and Coco Pops and as soon as she does so, their mum turns around from the frying pan, hands flying up to her face as she gasps. Her elbows knock over the spatula, causing a small pancake to go flying across the room soaring right over Tom’s dad’s head and he only looks up from the paper, eyes connecting with the barely cooked batter splattered on the wall. He turns his head to go back to his reading when his eyes land on his son. And the overdramatic chaos has ceased but all eyes are still on Tom and the silence is setting in quite well. He thinks he can hear the batter clank against the floor but he’s sure that it’s only his paranoid imagination.

It’s a little too much though, the seemingly never-ending silence and the piercing stares that fly from his face to the objects on his back. The objects that seem to have stiffened themselves as well. He’s sure he looks like a deer in the headlights, just standing there waiting for his presence to be welcomed.

His mum clears her throat before she says, “Good morning Tom,” and she forces a smile like everything’s okay. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

He nods slightly and moves from the doorway, his sister flinching when he takes the first step. She can’t take her eyes off of him and Tom sort of feels like a criminal in his own home, warily taking his seat next to her. She grips her chair as if she’s determining whether or not she wants to move away, whether or not she wants to offend. But she decides against it, just gets up from her chair and picks up the utensil that dropped earlier, leaving the splattered milk for her mum.

As soon as there’s a plate in front of him, his father goes back to his paper, murmuring something about nuclear radiation and Tom can only flush slightly. He doesn’t know why, knows that’s probably the reason, but he can’t help but wonder just how this happened. Sure, he had been wishing for something different and outstanding to happen to him, but he never actually thought he would grow something like wings.

He’s halfway done with his food when his mum clears her throat once again to ask, “Are you still taking your sister to school?” and before Tom can nod, Carrie’s out of her seat and grabbing her bag.

Slinging it around her shoulders she says, “Oh it’s all right mum,” and she checks for her keys, “I can walk.”

She turns on her heels and jets out the back door before her mum can protest, her face saying nothing short of sympathy before she turns back to the cabinet, getting out some cleaner. She then rips off some paper towels, ready to work on the floor, while his father rattles the paper once again and mutters something about door frames.

His mum doesn’t want to send him out but she’s got a lot of work to do around the house – cleaning and everything – so Tom opts to do some of her shopping for her. She begs with her eyes for him to just stay home for the day, hoping that this might all pass, but he’s not having any of it. He’s perfectly fine with the way he looks, even if he does stand out a lot more. He’s convincing, with her words and constant pleading, so his mum just hands him the money and sends him on his way.

His family’s got only one car and his father takes it to work with him. It doesn’t matter to his mum because she doesn’t have her license anyway, she’d rather walk. Tom used to feel the same way until the weight of the wings came and after only half a mile he’s out of breath and ready to take a break. But it’s hot outside today and he really just wants to get home, have a bottle of beer, and maybe work on some lyrics. So he keeps on trekking until he really can’t take it anymore, sitting down on the curb to give himself a little break.

His legs are hurting but it’s his back that aches the most, shoulders hunched over and he feels as if he’s about to fall at any second. He retracts the wings, pinning them as far back as he possibly can and it gives him a little relief. He sighs contently, placing his head in his arms as he brings his knees up to his chest. It temporarily blinds him, the lack of sun causing him to become slightly cooler, blocking out the world for only a second. He doesn’t even hear the small footsteps of children, or the questions and dares that they pass between each other before he feels a small hand tugging at his feather, plucking it from its home.

It stings, the removal of the fur and his head shoots up immediately and he turns to the source. They’re elementary school kids standing around him – should be in school – and they all look at him wide-eyed as one of the children holds a bloody feather in her hand, staring down at the red marks.

She says, “Mister. Halloween isn’t until a long time from now.”

Tom simply eyes the child before looking at the four others, saying, “I know.”

A boy asks, “Then why are you dressed up like an angel then?”

The girl: “No! A demon! He’s got blood on his wings and angels don’t bleed!”

The boy: “Alright then, a demon. Why are you dressed like a demon if isn’t Halloween?”

Tom opens his mouth and it about to speak when an older women, about forty, comes over and grabs all of the children’s wrists in one swoop. She looks down at them in scolding before turning her attention to Tom, and with a tight mouth saying,

“I don’t know who you are but you’re a pig! Talking to children half your age! And dressing like every day’s a party! Grow up!”

Toms stops to get some coffee after he goes to the grocery store.

He gets some looks from the housewives who sit at the tables, clutching their small children at their sides. He doesn’t even look their way, just makes his way to the counter and orders his drink. The barista behind the counter eyes him suspiciously but he pays her no mind, just gives her the correct amount before taking his drink. He decides to sit down and enjoy it, sitting right by the window to people watch, all while people are watching him.

He dozes off into a world of his own, mind gone into his imagination and before he knows it, it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. Carrie’s getting out soon so he decides to pick her up anyway. His mum never did like for her to walk home by herself.

He gets to the school grounds and the children are already out, running around with each other, hopping into their cars. He ignores the looks from the parents that he’s undoubtedly getting, looking out for his sister’s curly head. He doesn’t see her at first, everyone blending in and looking the same, but when he finally spots her, she’s only steps away. He screams for her, since her back is to him, but when she just continues walking, head down as she stands between her friends, Tom calls once more. He’s loud enough to be heard over the screams of everyone – and even when her friends turn around – she doesn’t. Her gaze is fixed on the concrete and her feet are heading towards home.

It doesn’t take Tom long to figure out that she’s ignoring him on purpose, her prejudice still getting the best of her. He has no doubt that her friends are probably encouraging her and it only makes him shake his head to try and dry the tears that are pricking at the corner of his eyes. He doesn’t need to cry over this, no matter how much it hurts.

He decides to take the opposite road home, not wanting to catch any bits or pieces of their conversation that may be about him. He knows that they’re all being cruel with their words. His heads to the ground, taking on the demeanour of his sister, and before he knows it, he’s not walking alone anymore. There’s a group of kids around him, stony looks on their faces as they eye him up and down. He simply stares at each and every one of them before asking,

“What do you guys want?”

“Are you retarded or something?” one of the boys asks, checking out his wings.

Tom shakes his head ‘no’ before one of the other boys scoffs and says, “Sure you are. You wouldn’t be dressed like that if you weren’t.”

Once again, Tom says, “I’m not retarded.”

The first boy laughs, throwing his head back in a menacing manner before he says, “Then take the wings off Mr. I’m-Not-Retarded.”

The boy’s staring him dead in the eyes and before now he doesn’t notice that they aren’t walking anymore. They’re all just standing the middle of the sidewalk, Tom in the middle of a small circle of five or so boys who are waiting for him to take off the assumed costume. He sucks in a breath and says, lowly,

“I can’t.”

He thinks none of them heard but the leader of the pack, he supposes, does. His eyes grow wide before he laughs once, the others taking the cue to do the same. He’s wiping at his eyes, nonexistent tears leaking out as he says,

“I knew we were dealing with a retard.”

And from behind him he hears one boy say, “Let’s just take them off for him, Johnny,” and the leader – Johnny – just shrugs.

“You gonna take them off, retard?”

He feels as if he’s caught in an ultimatum but he really isn’t because there’s nothing that he can do. They’re a part of him. The only other option he has is to run, and when he tries to place one foot in front of the other, about to set off, one of the bigger boys has two hands on his chest and he’s pushing him back.

He says, “You aren’t gong anywhere.”

There’s someone on his back, a small child who’s got his legs wrapped around Tom’s waist as his small hands pull at the base of his wings, fingernails scratching at his skin. It’s embarrassing, the boy’s tearing at his shirt as they finally rip it off of him, the small child continuously trying to pry the wings off, nothing being accomplished except skin and feathers being torn, blood leaking from their open spots.

The boys don’t even seem to notice that nothing’s happening, soon, all their hands are wrapped into the feathers - tugging, twisting, pulling – Tom’ screams being muffled by the leader who places a palm over his lips. He wants to fight back, so badly, but the pain is just too much, unwilling tears streaming down his face as he falls to his knees, pain shooting up and down his back. He’s on the ground and they continue to rip, tear, rip, tear, laughter coming out of their mouths as they continue to injure him.

He can only see red, his blood splattering all across the concrete as he lies there and just accepts the fact that he might not get out of this alive, life literally being held in all of the boys’ hands. He lets his eyes flutter closed, the dizziness overpowering him as he thinks, ‘this is it’. But then the pulling stops; the ongoing pain is ceased and when he opens his eyes all he can see is one face. It’s older, not belonging to any of the boys, and the only thing he hears before he finally gives in is,

“Everything’s going to be all right, mate.”

His eyes snap open when he feels what’s left of his wings being slammed into his mattress, the familiar pain shooting through his veins and he almost feels like crying out, but he can’t. His throat feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls, mind quickly replaying everything that’s happened between the time he left the house to the time he shut his eyes.

He looks up and he wonders why heaven – or hell – looks like the ceiling of his bedroom and he’s just about to ask why he still feels pain when someone standing over him apologizes. He looks up and ignores the oncoming headache, eyes meeting those of the man who must’ve helped him off the ground. He recognizes his voice, faintly, and he’s about to thank him – if he could talk – but he’s more concerned about how he figured out where Tom lives.

The man takes hold of his wrist and pulls him into a seated position, checking the mattress that was scone below him and cringing at the sight.

He says, “It’s blood all right, mate. You can clean it off easily.”

Tom simply nods and wonders just where he’s heard the familiar accent before, knowing it was before this incident, when the man asks, “Do you remember me?” He shakes his head because he can’t put a nail on the head and the man simply says, “It’s all right, mate, didn’t expect you to. I just – we went to school together. Name’s Danny Jones.”

The man – Danny – leaves Tom in his bedroom for a little while, going into his bathroom and rummaging through his cabinet. The name rings a bell and soon he’s being taken back to his high school years when he first saw him the hallway and he wonders why he didn’t recognize the smile, the one he fell for when Harry introduced the two of them. He used to have a slight crush on Danny but he makes no mention of it hen he comes back it he room, gauze and peroxide in hand.

He sits next to Tom and immediately starts talking about school and his new job while he wipes a cotton swab with alcohol and tries to clean his wounds. Tom knows he’s merely trying to distract him from the stinging, almost unbearable pain, and his voice is almost soothing. Almost. The cleaning process still feels like someone tearing through his skin, more so then when the boys were actually tearing through this part of him.

There’s a wave of relief when Danny finally caps the alcohol, the sound of tearing paper ripping through the room as the unopened gauze is finally being used. Tom always kept in the back of his cabinet, just in case. He never actually thought he was going to have to use it. Danny takes it and wraps it around his mid centre, making sure the entirety of what’s left of his wings are pressed close against his back and covered. Once that’s done, Danny pats his shoulder softly and Tom takes that as his cue to fall lifelessly onto his side.

He sinks down into the mattress, back away from Danny as he counts the number of dust specks he can see between the rays of sun. It’s an infinite amount but he doesn’t stop counting; it’s the only thing that keeps his mind off of the numbing pain. He takes him mere seconds to get into the hundreds and Danny makes him lose his count by flopping right next to him and blocking his view, blue eyes boring into his brown ones as he asks,

“How did this happen?”

His voice is coated in all seriousness, a tone totally different from before. Tom shrugs and has no answer for him, not knowing exactly how this happened. He feels like he should be telling this story to his mum, and that he should be in grade school again. But he isn’t.

“It all just happened.”

Danny stays silent for a few moments, studies his face before he says, “They got you pretty bad, mate. Can barely tell they were even there.”

“I just – I just wanted to get some groceries.”

“They got those too. But I’ll deal with them. They’re in my class.”

Tom just nods and can almost see the six of them sitting n the back of the classroom, not paying one ounce of attention as Danny attempts to teach them all about scales. He can see them taunting other kids in the lunchroom and he can see them getting off with nothing but a detention. He knows it isn’t fair and that he should probably call the police or something but he knows just how embarrassing it would be to admit that he – an adult – was assaulted by six grade school kids who tried to tear his wings off. If the sheer hilarity of the situation didn’t get to them, the fact that he couldn’t defend himself would.

“You’re brave Tom,” Danny says, breaking the unknown silence: “to walk out of your house like that.”

He simply shrugs and says, “I’m stupid,” before Danny shakes his head.

“The wings must’ve been cool. Wings are always cool ya know. When you see them in films they are always like – whoa!”

Tom can’t help but a crack a smile at Danny’s apparent enthusiasm about the objects that once were attached at his back and he says, “Yeah. They kind of were.”

Danny smiles as well and Tom remembers him from high school vividly, almost bringing him back to the days when he couldn’t even look at him without blushing.

He says, “When they grow back, you should let me see them,” and Tom’s face almost burns to the touch, nodding as he tries to keep his smile moderate.

He doesn’t plan on telling his mum, hopes that she just won’t notice – or think it’s all a dream – when she spots Danny leaving the house and runs up to his room to ask, “Who was that boy?”

He tries to hide the fact that there’s gauze wrapped around his back and that the wings are indeed gone but she catches sight immediately and runs over to him, bombarding him with questions about what happened. He tells the story and once he’s done his mum has her arms around him and isn’t letting go, no matter how much hurt she’s pressing onto his back.

“I don’t want you leaving this house Tom Fletcher. Not while you have things on your body.”

He protests. He doesn’t know why because he was planning on staying inside anyway. But it’s just the fact that he can wear a shirt now and the wings aren’t even visible unless he’s nude, which he isn’t planning on being in public anytime soon. But his mum continues to plead and she just asks,

“Stay home tomorrow all right, Tom. Just tomorrow,” and he can only comply.

He spends most of the next day lounging around in the living area, making more of a mess for his mum to clean. She tries not to say anything, though, after all, it was her idea for him to be stuck inside all day. So she simply vacuums and sweeps around his feet, knocking them off the coffee table once she’s done because Tom has taken a sort of liking for them to be propped up there. It’s comfortable though and every time his mum walks out of the room, he puts them right back up, only to have her swat at them moments later.

It’s on the eleventh time, when she’s swatting at his feet that his sister bursts into their home an hour earlier than she’s supposed to, tears streaming down her eyes as she makes a beeline for her bedroom. His mum’s alert and standing in her way, gripping her shoulders and trying to get to her to say what’s going on. Why is she home so early? But Carrie isn’t even registering any of her mum’s words, her head immediately tuning to Tom as she screams,

“I HATE YOU!” so loudly and with so much venom that the foundation of the home almost shakes.

Her mum lets her go and she runs out of sight, down the hall, her bedroom door slamming and causing the remaining two in the living area to cringe.

The two of them stand in silence before his mum decides to go after her, leaving Tom to sink a little more into the couch. He sighs as he tries to focus back on the television show, his focus only really ever being there in the first place. It’s hard to play catch up with what’s going on in the game show - he doesn’t really know how one person got in the lead – but once he’s finally back on track, he settles for finishing it.

He can’t hear anything from his sister’s room, turning the sound up on the television just so he wouldn’t have to hear the sobs that he indirectly caused. It isn’t his fault that he’s like this after all and he thinks that everyone should just be okay with it. He is. Of course he doesn’t have to go to school and he knows just how cruel kids can be s he doesn’t’ blame her that much.

He’s actually starting to think about getting up and apologizing to his sister when there’s a small knock at the door.

In the back of his mind he thinks that it could be the kid who chased his sister home from school because that’s the only scenario that he can’t get out of his head. He contemplates possibly getting a knife or another intimidating object but then again, he knows that no matter what, he isn’t going to use it. So he simply gets up and answers it, praying that whoever is on the other side doesn’t mean him – or his sister – any harm.

He’s a little surprised, when he opens the door, to find Danny standing on the other side, hands deep in his pockets as he surveys the “welcome” mat on the doorstep. He looks up as soon as the barrier between the two of them is lifted, smiling shyly as he asks,

“Is Carrie all right?” and Tom shakes his head. The other man sighs before he says, “She ran out of my class after the boys started making jokes about, well – you. And then they started saying a couple of vicious things about your family and everything –“

“So basically this is my fault?”

Danny shakes his head, “No it isn’t. You didn’t do anything mate. The boys are just morons.”

Tom just nods and places his own hands in his pockets, Danny smiling before he kicks the mat a little, shuffling his feet. He clears his throat afterwards, a little restless, and Tom asks,

“You wanna come in or something?”

Danny shakes his head, moving his curls all over his head, and answers, “Can’t. I have to get back to school ya know. I’ve got to run detention today. Just tell Carrie that she can stay home. I won’t write her up or anything,” and Tom nods. “And you. Are you all right?”

Tom really doesn’t know how to answer the question because he never really examined if he’s all right or not. So he just shrugs and says, “Yeah. As much as to be expected anyway.”

Carrie has dinner in her room that night.

Their mum explained the situation to their father earlier in the evening. He had nothing to say about it, simply checked up on his daughter before going into the living room to watch the news. When dinner came around, he said nothing about the fact that Carrie didn’t even want to face Tom. Her brother just shaking his head before sitting down across from his mum and trying not to let that fact get to him.

His dad never reads the paper at dinnertime but he seems adamant on it today, looking over every article that he missed that morning. He comments on some – plays and gas prices – before he gets to a whole article on school bullying, skipping right over it. It doesn’t help that the next thing he eyes is an advertisement for Red Bull energy drink, his father usually taking pleasure in the tag line “it gives you wings” but only finds it quite grim now.

Tom’s cutting into his steak when his mum asks, “How’s your back, hun?” and before he can answer his dad cuts him off with,

“So guess what happened at work today?”

His mum seems a little ticked off that he’s pushing himself between the question but she says nothing about it. She simply cuts her eyes and asks, “What?”

His dad starts telling a story about someone’s computer broke after the spilled coffee on the server and tried to cover it up with their suit jacket, only to have the piece of material catch on fire. It’s not a very long winded story; he breaks it up with bites of his food, but once it’s done his mum simply gives him a weak smile before tuning her attention back to Tom.

“How’s back your, hun?” she restates and his dad, once again, wants to know what she did that day. “I cleaned. I do it every day, nothing ever changes. Now, Tom,” and he looks up from his plate: “how’s your back?”

“It’s fine, Mum.”

“Does it, you know, sting?”

It’s out of the blue, his father throwing his knife and fork on the plate in such a manner that the sound vibrates throughout the entire room, causing all eyes to be on him. He’s completely red in the face, angry, as he glares towards both of the people at the table. It lasts like this for seconds before he pushes himself away from the table, out of his chair and onto his feet. Towering over all of them he says,

“If we can’t be a normal family, talking about normal things, then I’m just going to eat in my room as well!” but as he marches out of the room, he leaves his half eaten plate where it rests.

Tom places his head down and starts focusing on eating his food, finishing his plate, when his father’s footsteps can be heard on the stairs. He doesn’t want to make any noise, just tries to disappear for a while, but it’s quite hard to dismiss everything when right across from him his mum is quietly crying.

“I’m making my whole family miserable,” Tom says as he holds his mobile phone to his ear, pacing around his room.

Danny: “They should just deal with it mate. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal.”

“But they aren’t. I mean – I’m not even supposed to be living at home. I’m supposed to be at uni,” he sighs. “I’m a failure – with wings – I’m a freaking failure.”

Danny gives a small laugh on the other end before he says, “You could always move in with me, mate. Until everything settles down or what not.”

“No, it’s all right. It hasn’t gotten that bad yet. If I try to kill myself, then I’ll think about it.”

Danny clears his throat. “How are they doing anyway?”

“They’re growing back really fast actually. My family doesn’t know though, I try to stay in my room and out of trouble.”

Danny: “I think it’ll all blow over sooner or later.”

Tom: “I hope so.”

It takes only three days for Tom’s wings to grow fully back and he doesn’t even notice until he wakes up late and tries to get out of bed the normal way – one leg over the other. But his large wings are a hindrance and he almost falls flat on his face, not knowing whether to be happy that his wings are back, or distressed.

He decides on the latter, already a little ticked off because he slept in that morning, dreading the fact that in order to ease his grumbling stomach, he would have to face his entire family downstairs in the kitchen. But he supposes that he’s given them enough space as of now. They haven’t seen him for about a week and they may have possibly forgotten. Tom simply hopes.

The steps feel like forever as he takes his time walking down them, sucking in breath after breath and praying that they won’t freak out. He actually closes his eyes as he turns the corner and walks into the kitchen, only opening them when he hears no sound – no sound at all.

He opens them and his entire family is sitting at the table, watching him with wide eyes. They look as if they haven’t seen him in forever, his sister the most stunned as she gets up from the table, grabs her bag, and jets out of the room. It’s almost enough to make him want to go back upstairs, but he doesn’t, not right away at least. He grabs a plate from the cupboard and stacks it with food, about to go upstairs to his room when his mum says,

“Tom, please. Come eat with us.”

He turns to both of his parents, his mum wearing a small and tired smile as his father simply eyes her form over the paper. Tom nods and moves to take his seat across from her when his father eats the rest of his bacon in record speed, scarping it down before pushing his chair back and standing to his feet.

“Got to get to work early. Presentation. Almost forgot,” and he leaves.

Neither of them say anything, Tom just rests his gaze on his food, picking up his fork and eating it slowly. His mum picks up her coffee and starts to sip at it before she place sit back down and starts to weep. It’s surprising and out of nowhere, her voice loud and harsh as she covers her hand with her face, trying to cover the sorrow that she’s been holding in for a while. Tom lets the fork fall to his plate, reaching over to place a hand on her shoulder. This only makes her weep a little more, leaning into the touch as she speaks.

“I’m so sorry this has happened to you Tom. This is all – this is all my fault.”

“Mum,” he says trying to soothe her pain: “nothing is wrong with me.”

“Yes, yes there is – oh, Tom! I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t bother to argue with his mum further, just letting her cry and he gets up from his seat, trying to embrace her form across the table. Her head finds itself in the crook of his fore and upper arm, tears wetting his skin as she begs him to stay inside for the day. And although he’s been inside for almost a week, he can barely stand it; he just nods and says,

“I will, Mum.”

There’s a small tug on his wings, the movement causing him to stir out of his quick slumber on the couch. At first he thinks it’s nothing, about to flutter his eyes closed but when he feels it again, this time more prominent, he moves away from the object causing him pain. Looking around his shoulder he tries to spot what might have caused it – a snag in the couch or something of the sort – but when he spots his mother with scissors he dares not to believe it.

She’s on her knees, crouched behind the couch as she stares at her own son, hiding the sharp object behind her back as if she’s done nothing. But the sheer look of horror on Tom’s face shows her that he’s seen – and felt – everything.

“I’m only – I’m only trying to help, Tom,” she says as she stands to her feet, no longer hiding the weapon but placing it at her side.

“Trying to help what, Mum?” and he stands from the couch, moving away from the furniture, facing his mum. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Yes there is, Tom…You’re a – you’re a freak and…And everyone thinks we – me, your dad, your sister – are a lot of freaks as well!”

He stares at his mum who’s taken on a maniac form, all wide eyed and terrified, as he says, “But why does it matter, Mum? Don’t I matter more than what everyone else thinks?”

Her bottom lip quivers as she says, “Inside this house you do, but out there – out there…They judge us, Tom, and I just can’t-“

He doesn’t let her finish, he just turns on his heels and marches up the stairs to his bedroom ignoring her cries for him to come back. His door slams and before he can contemplate going back downstairs and letting her explain, he locks it, inside and out.

He’s lying on his bed when he hears the front door slam, signalling that Carrie’s home. He’s been waiting for her all day, waiting for her to open the door and waiting for her to find their mum in the living area with her head in her hands. He doesn’t feel bad, doesn’t think he should go down and apologize, so he doesn’t. He simply fishes out his mobile phone from the nightstand next to his bed and calls Danny.

He’s memorized his number by now but he’s the only person he ever calls, making it one click away from his recent calls list. He presses the speaker to his ear and waits for him to pick up. He doesn’t. He calls again, thinking that he’s probably still talking to some students and hoping that he’ll just pick up the phone. It’s sort of an emergency, yeah something like that.

Danny picks up on the third ring and when he says ‘hello’ his voice is coated in laughter. It makes Tom smile but at the same time it makes him want to hang up the phone and forget the offer that Danny made. After all, Tom never liked imposing and that’s clearly what he would be doing. He’s thinking too much and Danny’s constantly calling for an answer on the other end of the line, Tom’s mind only registering his words when he says,

“I’m going to hang up now.”

He then quickly says, “Hey – no. Danny. It’s me, Tom.” And that’s before he tells him everything that happened with his mum.

In the middle of his story Tom thinks that Danny may have just stopped listening, gone back to whatever joke he was laughing at, and gone back to his life pre-Tom. But once he’s done venting about how much he can’t stand his parents – or little sister- right now, Danny’s right there to say,

“You can still live with me for a while Tom.” And he’s glad he offered because Tom doesn’t know how he would ask.

They make arrangements for Tom to come right over, right after he hangs up the phone, and the blond can’t be more thankful. He has to get out of house soon, he feels like he’s been suffocated by his own family.

He hangs up the phone and pushes it deep into his cargo pants, searching around his room for random articles of clothing he can throw into his old high school book bag. It isn’t much, but he really isn’t planning to stay there long, just long enough for his family to wise up and see that whatever grudge they have against him – or his wings – they can just deal with.

Walking down the steps he spots his mum and his sister sitting on the living room couch, Carrie’s hand on their mum’s back as she tries to comfort her. It isn’t working, her movements, and she almost tears right into Tom with her glare as soon as she spots him. But Tom isn’t fazed by it anymore, simply stares back at her before continuing to walk towards the door. His mum pleads, with her head down, for Tom to stay, but he doesn’t listen because she’s only making false promises. Whatever she says won’t hold up later, won’t hold up when his dad comes home or when Carrie starts crying because she’s getting teased.

And Tom’s never felt so heartless in his life, leaving his broken mother to sit there on the couch, virtually lifeless, all because he just won’t stay.

Danny lives in a two bedroom flat in the part of the city that the police frequent because of the ever rising crime rate. Tom’s actually surprised when Danny tells him the address and he knows it simply because the area is alwayshomely and he knows that’s just what he needs right now - some temporary space.

Danny’s got a pot of tea brewing and he’s checking on it while he asks, “How was the trip?”

Tom says it was, “Fine,” as he walks around the small space.

Danny then asks, “Where are..” and he makes a motion with his hands that signals the term ‘wings’ and Tom says,

“They’re pinned back. Your landlord, or whomever, said that I better pin them back. Something about some crazy lady next door.”

Danny laughs, getting exactly what the man was speaking of and he explains, “She thinks the angel of death is coming to get her any day now. I’m sure you would’ve given her a right scare.”

Tom nods and partially understands, flexing his back and realizing just how much his wings hurt, pinned back so much.

Danny removes the kettle from the stove and places it on the table, pouring two cups an offering one to Tom. He graciously doesn’t accept, he isn’t very hungry or thirsty, and Danny simply nods before taking a small sip of his. Placing the cup on the table, he take one step closer to Tom and grabs hold of the book bag strap, tugging on it slightly and signaling for Tom to take it off. And although he’s very capable of removing it himself, he does as he asks.

Danny slings the bag over his shoulder before he explains, “It must be a strain on your wings to have them pinned back and then to have weight pressing on top of them.” And Tom nods, agreeing. “All right then. Let’s get them unpinned, shall we?”

Danny leads Tom to the almost empty, save for a mattress, spare room. It’s even tinier the living area and Tom thinks that he just must lose his mind in a place like this, but when Danny opens the closed blinds everything seems a little brighter and a lot wider. He breathes in, knowing that least he’ll be partially sane.

The younger of the two drops the book bag at the foot of the mattress before landing on it and pulling Tom down as well. The blond follows his silent instructions and faces the wall, his back to Danny, the brunette working up Tom’s shirt and trying to get a view of the wings. Once the shirt is up to his shoulders, Tom lifts his arms and allows Danny to tug it all the way over his head, throwing it to the corner of the room and inspecting the belts that are pinning down the wings. Danny runs his hands over some of the bruised, raised, skin, saying,

“You fastened them so tightly,” and his fingertips burn but Tom simply sucks in the pain.

Danny undoes belt after belt, Tom letting out a sigh of relief with every piece of leather that goes flying across the room with his shirt. Once all of the belts are undone, and his wings are finally free it feels better than anything he’s ever experienced So much so, that he almost forgets Danny’s in the room – almost knocking him over in the process of spanning them.

“They’re so big,” Danny says in awe, fingers threading themselves through the feathers as he sits back and watches them grow steadily.

Tom can only shrug as he feels Danny’s finger tighten around some of the feathers, tugging at them playfully and he cringes, thinking that it’s going to sting but it doesn’t it’s more of a tickling sensation and he can’t help but laugh a little. Danny smiles and tugs at the same feathers again, Tom laughing a little more and he just proceeds to continue his movements, loving the reaction that he’s getting out of the other a. After all, he hasn’t heard him really laugh yet.

His fingers are pulling and tugging and there are almost tears in Tom’s eyes, the weird feeling going all the way down to his spine. He’s never been ticklish and it’s so foreign to him that he finally knows why his sister begged him to stop. He can barely breathe. His lungs ache and he finds himself begging Danny to please stop but he doesn’t. He just moves from feather to feather, tugging and pulling as Tom falls to his side. Danny loves the power he has over him but Tom doesn’t let it get too far.

Soon, he’s grabbing at Danny’s forearms and flipping him over so that he’s on top. The feathers slide easily out of his hand and the brunette can only laugh as well, looking up into Tom’s eyes, his smile slowly fading. Their breathing’s laboured and Danny’s eyes start sparkling in wonder.

“You look like an angel,” he says barely over a whisper: “simply amazing.”

His words hang in the small space between the two of them until Tom nods slowly and leans forward, pressing his lips to Danny’s.

Tom wakes up with his wings curled around himself as well as Danny.

He’s asleep next to him, pressed as close as he can possibly get, head on Tom’s chest as he breathes slowly. His hands are curled inside the feathers as his eyelashes flutter slowly, dreams relaying behind his lids. Tom hasn’t felt this high in a while and he feels absolutely amazing.

He moves, slightly, just to get a little more comfortable Danny’s hands curling tighter into his feathers. He pulls and pulls, twists and tugs until he’s pulling the feathers right out, tears pricking Tom’ eyes as small amounts of blood spill onto the mattress. He jerks up once the red starts to spill onto Danny’s shoulder, his movements waking Danny up as well. He opens his eyes slowly and he doesn’t even register what’s going on until he sees Tom searching for his shirt and stamping the wound with the cotton.

“Tom did I-“ and he looks down at the small amount of feathers in his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he says with a small shake of his head.

Tom simply smiles and shakes his head, saying, “They’ll grow back. No big deal.”

Danny nods slightly, a saddened look still on his face and Tom turns to kiss the corner of his mouth. The brunette smiles and tilts his head so that he can kiss him full on the lips, their mouths connecting for seconds until Danny pulls away. He presses their foreheads together, keeping his eyes closed and sighing contently.

“You know what? I didn’t know that angels bled.”

PROMPT ME.

Thu, 08 May 2008 23:05:44 GMT

WTF?! Prompts.
I started this a whole ago but the only thing that I ever got done was writing the summaries. I suck at getting myself to write pairings so I leave that job up to you!

I started this a whole ago but the only thing that I ever got done was writing the summaries. I suck at getting myself to write pairings so I leave that job up to you! Please keep in mind that Character A and Character B are either in a relationship or will be in ALL of the stories and ALL pairings within the McFly-fandom are accepted unless otherwise stated in the summary. The fics will be written in the form of A Lovely Boy and some will take longer than others but I have absolutely not life and they will get done in the order that they are requested.

PLEASE PLEASE pick away and read other info at the bottom.
EDIT: 11 more prompts left!

Transformation (Animals)
Character A turns into Character B’s favorite animal in order to get closer to them.

Tentacles
Character A is a compulsive lair and every time he lies to Character B tentacles grow from random parts of his body. This could get interesting….

Supernatural (powers)
Character A wakes up to find that he can manipulate water. He find sit strange and unsettling but when Character B finds himself in the same boat, only with fire, he takes it to his full advantage and stars burning half of everything. Character A has to help him keep his cool but at the same time, try to savor this temporary gift.

Fantasy AU (urban)
If you want this one just come with something, anything, and I’ll roll with it.

Hookers
Character A is a business man who just wants to let out some steam and although eh doesn’t usually do this, he heads down a street notorious for it’s line of working boys. He stops in front of Character B, liking what he sees, and when he rolls down the window he’s more surprised to see that he knows Character B, personally!

You See, I Woke Up Gay
Character A wakes one morning and feels the same until he ventures into the kitchen and finds himself checking out a very gay Character B who’s always had feelings for Character A. He struggles with his inner turmoil before turning to Character B for guidance. However, when he wakes up the next morning Character A has no recollection of ever being gay!

Doppelganger
Character A and Character B (NON-MCFLY MEMBER) have always thought they sort of resembled each other but when they finally meet face to face, it’s almost uncanny…

Twins/Non-Canon Siblings
Character A keeps his hidden twin at home with their mum until they go to Australia and Character B mistakes the twin for Character A! When he doesn’t refuse any advances, what will Character think when he finds out?!

Out of Time
It’s 1000 years in the future and Character A is stuck in intergalactic traffic once again, while Character B waits at home for him.

Forced Union
Character A is fading musician who just wants his career back. His manager posts a contest wherein the winner gets to marry Character A. Character B ends up wining and although it’s fake at first, feeling start forming and fast.

Oops I Forgot_____
This is YOUR chance to pick whatever you want me to write about.

Transformation(Inanimate)
Character A turns into whatever you choose in order to spy on Character B.

Genderswap
Character A frequently transforms into a girl but keeps a well hidden secret until Character B walks in on him one day, changing into more suitable attire.

Slaves
Character A’s family owed Character B a debt and in order to repay it, Character A has to work for Character B.

Wings
Character A has always wanted wings for his entire posses the gift. He has to do multiple tasks in order to obtain them and when he finally does everyone criticizes him for being such a freak. That is, until Character B comes along and he’s completely enthralled with the moving objects attached to his skin.

Aliens
Character A is abducted by aliens and no one, not even Character B, believes him!

M-preg
After a night of drunken partying Character A wakes up in bed with Character B, completely un-fazed by the fact that he’s had yet another one nightstand. However when Character A finds himself pregnant he can only try to convince Character B that he’s not a freak – really.

High school AU
This is the typical high school AU where Character A comes to Character B’s new school and forms a small group of friends before Character B bumps into him in the hallway and the stomach churning teenage sparks end up flying.

Apocalypse Now
The world is ending and Character A is simply trying to save his own skin when he has to go back for Character B because he’s stuck in his home and can’t get out.

Supernatural (creatures)
Character A is a werewolf and it’s hard to deal with the fact that he’s a complete monster on full moons. He’s killed his dearest friends, accidentally of course, when he meets Character B – fairy who has a spell that can break his curse forever. But of course, he’s not going to give it up that easily.

Fantasy AU (traditional)
Character A is a prince who’s been captured and he waits in the tower for his prince to come and save him. Character B mistakenly kills the prince that’s been sent to save Character A and decides to go on the journey as well. He doesn’t expect to get anything out of it but a soon as he sets his eyes on Character A, he’s glad that he doesn’t know how to work a bow and arrow.

Fuck or Die
Character A’s straight and he’s being held under his will by a crazed gunman/fan who only wants to see him get it on with Character B, his other favorite member.

Pornstars
Character A is a porn star, but only being put up for it by Character B and one of his insane bets.

Trading Places
Let’s bring YOUR BAND OF CHOICE into this shall we? They swap members and it gets interested when Character A (from McFly) and Character B (from band of choice) learn some things about themselves that they never knew before.

Time Shift
Character A constantly finds himself falling into the future where he frequently bumps into his and Character B’s children.

Spies and Agents
Character A has worked all of his life to make it to the top of the spy chain, only to be knocked down when he’s asked to rescue a kidnapped Character B.

Now that you may have chosen the prompt that you want me to write, please fill out this form, and place it in comment form below. The * indicate portions of the form that do not have to be filled out. Have a good day (or night….)!

EDIT: Crack fic is defined here. AND I almost forgot! I know that mcflyslash has a beta list, but does anyone know of any really good betas that are currently taking stories?

Life Alter-ing(24/24)

Thu, 10 Apr 2008 09:36:41 GMT

Title:Life Alter-ing
Author:Me.
Part:24/24
Rating:R, for swear words
Pairing:PoynterJudd, FletcherJones, PoynterRushton
Summary:Dougie's in a loving, committed, relationship with rock star boyfriend Steve Rushton and everything's going well, that is until a Mr. Harry Judd decides to pay his friends a visit.
A/N:Let's pretend that McFly doesn't exist, but Son of Dork still does, and that SOD is wildly popular (say, McFly level popular). ALSO, unlike my previous attempt at a chaptered story, this one is already half way finished, so I will most definitely finish this story.
Disclaimer:Don't own never happened.

EPILOUGE

It’s been a year since Danny and Tom’s engagement party, which means that it’s been exactly a year since I’ve seen Harry. The two of us didn’t actually patch things up but I heard from Tom and Danny and that he’s doing quite well for himself. He just got promoted at his advertising agency and he just moved into a bigger flat with his boyfriend, Simon.

The two of them are coming to the wedding apparently, or at least that’s what Danny told me.

And I’m not really phased about it and…Okay, I’m still a liar but I have bigger things to think about, like how to keep Danny’s suit from catch lint.

The two of us, Danny and I, are in a room that’s designated, well, for the two of us. Tom and Danny had decided on having a small wedding, just one person in their party, each of their best men. Tom said that Harry’s his best man, and therefore, I didn’t get to see him because of bad luck, or some other superstition that Danny had told us about although I’m sure that he got it wrong.

There was a knock on the door, previously, from the same woman who planned their engagement party. The knock was to tell us that everyone was seated, that they’re about to start the ceremony and that Tom’s heading to the alter. Of course, there as really no bride in the wedding, but Danny had said that he always wanted to walk down the aisle, even if he was getting married to a woman, so Tom let Danny do what he wanted.

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, clapping and rubbing his hands together, getting even more nervous by the second. It’s such a sight to see, the large grin on his face being overridden by the simple thought that he’s actually getting married in a couple of moments. But I don’t think he understands that with every move that he makes, more lint catches on his black suit and I have to run more circles around him, like a mad man, lint roller in hand as I try to remove every little white speck.

It’s a tiring job, but as soon as I get all the visible imperfections away from his suit, I place the lint roller on the vanity and stand up straight, facing my best friend with a wide, watery, smile. And I can’t help the tears because my best friend’s getting married and I really can’t believe it.

He can’t help getting teary eyed either, the elder enveloping me in a tight hug as he lets his tears fall on my shoulder and I don’t even care that my suit’s probably getting slightly ruined because this whole day isn’t even about me.

“Dougs, I mean,” and he stops for a bit to catch his voice: “I’m getting married to the most amazing person in the world and my best fucking friend…You’re walking me down the aisle. How can life get any better than this?”

I stay in the hug, my face still in his neck as I try to blink away the tears that haven’t fallen, before I tell him, “It’ll get a hell of a lot better when you reach that alter and finally become Mr. Fletcher-Jones.”

He pulls away from the hug and places his hands on my shoulders. He’s looking right in to me. He opens his mouth, about to say something, when there’s a knock on the door. The two of us turn our heads and the wedding coordinator peeks her head in the door, makes sure we’re both decent, before she says,

“They’re ready for the two of you,” and leaves.

Danny, immediately, locks arms with me, taking another deep breath and I really want to tell him that everything’s going to be okay, that he’s making the best decision in his life, but there’s even cotton in my throat and I can’t say a word as I open the door and my best friend breathes in.

*

The wedding ceremony was absolutely amazing and it took everything in me to not cry, which I ended up doing anyway.

Tom and Danny are off with the wedding photographer, getting their pictures taken, and she all but pulled them away as soon as they were out of eye shot. I know she’s probably having a hell of a time trying to get the two of them to pose correctly, but that’s just the humor in those two.

The reception’s gorgeous as well, set just meters away from the alter and outside. I’m so happy that the weather decided to be kind today and it’s just the right amount of hot, with the small gust of wind ever so often.

I sort of want to go find…well…him because word is he can’t make it until late, his plane was delayed because he was coming in from Florida. But I don’t even get a moment to myself because as soon as I reach the champagne table and get myself a glass, James and his girlfriend are pulling me into multiple pictures and I’m pretty sure I look stupid in all of them. The element of surprise, I’m sure, doesn’t look good on me face.

After the multiple flashes, even in the sun, I sip at my glass and I’m almost halfway done when Carrie, Tom’s little sister, comes over to me and takes a picture. I’m blinded by the flash, once again, and that only makes me laugh as she says,

“Come on Dougs, picture time,” and I playfully roll my eyes before I bend down a little so that she can take the picture of the two of us. She then says, after she shows me the surprisingly pleasant picture: “I got this for Tom and Danny’s wedding! How cool is that?”

“Very cool,” I answer before she goes off on a rant about all the other small gifts she’s received.

I’m only half listening to her ranting because I’m pretty sure whatever she’s saying isn’t that important, when she asks,

“Wanna go see one of the big gifts I got? I think you’ll like it as well,” and I just nod, looking down at her weirdly, allowing her to lead the way towards the empty hall.

I start to ask, “What’s the gift an-“ And I have to cut myself off because as soon as we enter the hall, I’m met face to face with Harry.

Carrie’s smiling at the two of us, eyes twinkling as she hops out of the building, leaving the two of us to our own devices.

I half expect Harry to walk out of the room, like he didn’t want this either, but he doesn’t. He’s looking to the floor, hands in his suit pockets like he asked her to do this and I think he did. I want to ask him but he’s walking towards me and I really think that I can’t breathe.

He asks, “How’ve you been?” once he’s gotten close enough, but not close enough to give me heart attack.

I answer, “Good and you?”

There’s casual conversation going back and forth, the two of us locking eyes before we look away and our faces flush. I want to know what this is all about, considering that our last meeting didn’t go well at all. There are so many questions swimming around in my head that I want to ask but they just don’t want to get out. I’m so consumed in my thoughts that I almost miss the small,

“Does that offer still stand?” that comes from Harry’s mouth.

I stop thinking, for only a moment, to glance up at him and ask, “What offer?” because I’m genuinely confused about what he’s talking about.

He clears his throat, swallows, before he says, “You know. The one we made a while ago, sort of unspoken really. At the restaurant, in the bathroom…The confession, that stuff.”

I thought he wanted to forget, forget about me, forget about everything, and I have to bite my lip, hold back a grin when I realize that I’ve probably been on his mind for a while, that, maybe, he didn’t men half the stuff that he said at the party.

He’s waiting for answer, eyes trained intently on me as I hold back a small laugh of relief. But I let it go anyway, and he thinks I’m mocking him, face turning solely in disappointment before I walk towards him and peck him right on the lips.

“Yeah. It still stands.”

End.

<< Previous|
Not happy with the ending, at all, but I have no idea how to really end it so...Thanks for reading guys!

Multiple/Unknown Chaptered

Life Alter-ing(23/24)

Thu, 03 Apr 2008 09:31:40 GMT

Title:Life Alter-ing
Author:Me.
Part:23/24
Rating:R, for swear words
Pairing:PoynterJudd, FletcherJones, PoynterRushton
Summary:Dougie's in a loving, committed, relationship with rock star boyfriend Steve Rushton and everything's going well, that is until a Mr. Harry Judd decides to pay his friends a visit.
A/N:Let's pretend that McFly doesn't exist, but Son of Dork still does, and that SOD is wildly popular (say, McFly level popular). ALSO, unlike my previous attempt at a chaptered story, this one is already half way finished, so I will most definitely finish this story.
Disclaimer:Don't own never happened.

It’s been a month since my engagement party, which means it’s been a month since Danny and Tom have gotten engaged and honestly, the two of them are the sweetest couple ever. Nothing’s actually changed, they still act the same towards each other, towards me, except now when they introduce the other they say, “This is my fiancé,” and both of their faces light up every time.

I love the two them, honestly, and it’s not only because they didn’t kick me out the first chance that they got. I know I’m going to have to move out, sooner or later, because it was Danny’s flat originally, but they haven’t said much about it. They’re giving me time to think it out on my own.

I wanted to do something special for them, which is why I hired a party planner and got her to plan them an engagement party. I know I could’ve done it myself, but I’m terrible when it comes to remembering things and if it was up to me, it would be a complete disaster. But I’m pretty sure it’s going to be amazing because the woman says she’s the best.

She plans it at the hotel where Steve and I had our party, and it looks just as amazing. My jaw almost hits the floor when I walk in see that the gold lining that the room originally had, was completely transformed into silver. She gives me a smile and says that it took a lot of begging, but she finally got it done, and that’s before I envelope her into a large hug.

I invite everyone Tom and Danny know and it seems like the entire list came, the place is so crowded.

I stand at the front of the door, greeting everyone that comes in with a smile and a handshake. Most of Danny’s guests are familiar with me and they have a million questions to ask like, “How’s your life been?” and “How’s the boyfriend?” and even “I heard about what happened at your engagement party. Those two don’t have anything planned do they?” I answer all the questions politely and accordingly, everyone being satisfied with whatever I have to say. After all, my goal is to divert their attention from the drama that happened with me months ago, and focus their minds on the couple at hand.

I see Steve as well, his hug being the second runner up because when he sees me, he’s absolutely ecstatic. But it isn’t because he finally sees me after months, not per say at least, but it’s because of the gorgeous boy on his arm. It’s his new boyfriend and he isn’t someone famous, Steve just met him at a coffee shop a month ago and the two of them are so unbearably happy with one another, hands all over each other as they smile from ear to ear. I can tell, that Steve and his new boyfriend, are going to be so happy together and I really hope that he doesn’t make a mistake like I did and loose him.

There really isn’t anything more tiring than trying to play the host on an empty stomach, so when I get tired, I head over to the head table where Tom and Danny are sitting, reserved seats for me, Danny’s sister Vicky, Tom’s best friend Giovanna, and even…Harry. It was hard, actually, to invite him, to scribble his name at the top of the list and give him special mention. Hell, I didn’t even know if he was going to come, after all, the invitation did state that the party was being thrown by Dougie Poynter. He may not be ready to see my face and I can’t blame him at all.

Carrie, Tom’s sister, is sitting in the seat behind mine, Tom’s family all occupying the table to the left, Danny’s family to the right. She’s cute and bubbly, almost bouncing up and down in her chair when I turn and give her a smile.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for them. Your one amazing friend Dougie. I mean if-“ and she stops, mid sentence, cheeks rosing over slightly as her grin widens, eyes moving from my face to something just over my shoulder.

She looks completely mental, and there must be something wrong with her. I grip my chair and turn my head around, as far as it can go, neck stretching as I spot the source of her surprise, my reaction being very similar to hers.

Mr. Harry Judd’s walking towards the table, smart tux hanging well off his body as he flashes a smile to everyone that supplies him with one. Most of the smiles are ones of flirtation because he looks absolutely amazing, his hair a little shorter than when he was last here. He’s not even looking towards his destination, my table, but when the two of us lock eyes, my breathing hitches in my throat.

We sort of stare into each other for a moment before he completely looks away, gives Tom’s mum a hug before moving over to Carrie.

The two of them start talking, about how she’s doing in school, about her recently picking up the guitar, and all the while he doesn’t give me a second glance. I know I shouldn’t care, that I shouldn’t expect him to care about me, but I just can’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable about the situation. After all, we did kiss.

I just can’t take it, the whole cold shoulder game, so I move from the table, although my mind is just telling me to stay where I am. I’m walking towards the exit, not really knowing where I’m going, just letting my feet guide me, when I hear Carrie ask,

“What’s wrong with Dougie?”

And Harry answers with, “I don’t know. Maybe he’s having a bad day.” Try year.

I promised myself, before I even left the flat, that if I saw Harry tonight, that I would not cry. I will not cry.

My feet lead me to the courtyard, which is expected of them because, this is where I broke the news to Steve and it’s pretty somber out here, for me at least, despite the bright lights and the colorful flowers, the hotel’s way of being romantic. I sort of just stand in the middle of it all, soaking it all in, soaking the entire night in, before I notice that I’m not alone. Harry followed me, much to my dismay…Or is it?

The two of us don’t say anything for a while, just glancing at each other before we look away, both us probably questioning what we’re doing in the same space. But Harry breaks the silence when he says,

“I cannot believe that you’re still wallowing in your own self pity Dougie,” and his words cut like a knife, right through me: “How do you think I feel? How do you think this whole fucking charade you put on affected me?” And I try to open my mouth, try to explain, but Harry just cuts me off with a raise of his hand. “You did all the talking back then Dougie. Let me speak now,” and I do: “You’re a liar, and I want you to hear it because I’m not sure that you know. You also need help, and lots of it. Maybe not professional but…No, professional help. But besides all of that, I wish that things would’ve worked out between us because I could really see myself with you.”

And his honesty, although brutal, makes my heart break a little more because even though I thought I was considering his feelings, I wasn’t. In the end, I was being blindingly selfish, more so than I was already aware of.

I ask, “Can you…Can you forgive me? Ever?” and Harry starts pacing, feet shuffling against the tiles as he walks the same line back and forth, face construed as he honestly thinks over my question.

At first, he shakes his head “no” and I bite my lip to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall. I can’t let him see me cry, I can’t let him know that “yes, I’m still that pathetic”. So I shake my head as well, my tears, luckily, drying up and when I do so, Harry’s watching me and he simply says,

“Yes,” but he isn’t done: “I forgive you because I’ve moved on.” And he stops, giving me time to soak in the fact that yes, he is in a steady relationship currently. “I found the strength to move on Dougie, and I think that you should to.” I understand where he’s coming from, but not really sure if I’m that ready to move on, but I nod nonetheless.

“So,” he starts after a few moments of even more silence: “Where’s the expensive ring, the wedding bells, the husband?”

I don’t understand how he could’ve not known, but I’m sure he’s been avoiding anything that had to do with me and Steve, including the press.

I simply answer, “Things never would’ve worked out between us,” and he just nods.

<< Previous|Next >>
I hate that I took me forever to write up this part, but this time I promise more soon. Thanks for reading and commenting!
Only one more part to go!

Multiple/Unknown Chaptered

A lovely boy (Standalone)

Sun, 30 Mar 2008 00:30:29 GMT

Title:A lovely boy.
Author:Me.
Part:1/1
Rating:R?
Pairing:PoynterJudd with a side of FletcherJones
Word Count:Roughly 9,100.
Warning: Deathfic.
Summary:Harry's directing a cliche teen movie and he's just about ready to give up when Dougie walks on the set.
Disclaimer:Don't own never happened.

Fic inspired by this song. I highly recommend listening to it whilst reading.
Keane: He Used To Be a Lovely Boy

A lovely boy.

Summerville is completely fake. The people who walk the streets, who work the jobs, have nothing substantial about them. It’s almost sickening to live there, but it’s the most perfect place on Earth and everyone strives to make it there but only a select few do.

Harry Judd is one of these people.

He directs and casts movies, he doesn’t know why but he does, and he makes a decent amount of money doing so. He gets to pick and choose what movies he wants to direct, but most of the time he just places all f the plays in a line picks one at random, without reading the script, without doing anything, and for this movie, it’s nothing different.

He picks it, and after doing so, he reads the synopsis and finds out that it’s about a rebellious teenage boy who pisses off his parents and goes off on a search of his own which lands him into a relationship with an even more rebellious boy. It’s a typical teenage blockbuster and although somewhere, in the back of his mind, Harry promised himself that he would never do another movie of this nature, he goes through with it.

However, the boys that come out the lead role are complete crap and Harry wishes that he picked something with a bit more depth.

&

The people who work in Summerville tell Harry that Tom Fletcher is his partner in crime, however, he just refers to him as his best friend. The two of them moved to Summerville together and every night, after their jobs, they got out for drinks at one of the high end pubs.

Tom works in the entertainment industry as well, however his job entails working with people that have a bit more intelligence than those that Harry is forced to be around for Tom works in the songwriting/screenplay department and the first thing that he says when he sits down at the table is,

“We got a new guy in today, from Hillcrest, he’s simply amazing.”

And Harry knows that look I Tom’s eyes like the back of the hand, the man has crush on this guy and that just makes the brunette laugh behind his glass. Tom, however, finds nothing funny and when he hears Harry’s laugh, he asks,

“I’m fucking serious Judd.”

His teeth are gritted and that only makes Harry laugh a little more as he finishes off his drink and says, “Calm the fuck down Tom. Alright? Tell me more about him, go ahead.”

Tom talks, about the guys look and how Tom was jealous of him, at first, until he found out that he was into blokes so that didn’t faze him much after that. He says how they got along great, how he’s completely the opposite of him, spontaneous and all that, but how he really, really, likes him, and then he says,

“He’s got a friend you know.”

And Harry knows what that means, so he immediately says, “No Tom.”

And the blond just sighs before he says, “Shame. I was thinking you and him might just hit off. You could’ve taken him out or something while I showed Danny around.”

Harry smiles, waves the waitress over and says, “That’s just like you Tom. Showing pretty strangers around.”

&

James Bourne is one of Summerville’s most seasoned actors. He’s a child star that actually managed to rise above the terrible stereotype and make something of himself as an adult. He’s been hired to play the role of the other leading boy, but when he sees that madness of the second day of casting, he simply says,

“We should just higher someone that’s popular right now. You know, to ensure box-office revenue.”

He states in the middle of the day, when Harry doesn’t agree because he was given specific orders from the studio to find someone new, someone fresh. But when the end of the day comes, Harry finds himself turning to James and saying,

“You were right, about earlier. We’ll just find someone famous, maybe Matt Willis or something.”

James smile because he’s good friends with Matt, they’ll have great chemistry on screen, and Harry’s just thinking over how he’s going to tell Fletch as he’s packing up his things. They’ve got the fold up chairs on the table and they’re about to head out when there’s a small knock at the door before the large door opens. There’s a blond head peeking in and Harry’s not paying that much attention, not until James says,

“Casting’s closed.”

Harry turns his head to the boy who actually has the audacity to disobey the casting times and he’s about to tell him off when he gets a good look at him. His blond, floppy, hair and his blue, blue, eyes almost Harry’s breathing hitch in his throat and he knows that he should turn the boy away, James is doing a good job of it, when he simply says,

“Hey, James, it’s alright mate. Come on, audition, it’s fine.”

James looks at Harry confused, not knowing the man to be this nice to anyone other than Tom, but he says nothing as the brunette pulls out a script from his bag, hands it to the blonde and says,

“Go on, read whatever you feel comfortable.”

The boy’s hands are shaking as he flips through the script and stops at the first scene that he can find. James is watching him closely, arms crossed over his chest and Harry wants tot ell him to take his defenses down, that they boy’s nervous enough, but he doesn’t for fear of causing the boy’s nerves to rile up all the more.

So he sits on the edge of the table and watches as the boy stumbles through the lines, sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to read the small font, but soon, his eyes adjust and the boy’s spitting out he lines like a pro, although his eyes never leave the paper. That’s usually when they rule the person as a whole, when they can’t make eye contact, but they’re in sort of a rut, plus Harry just can’t turn this boy away, so he says,

“Stop. It’s okay. You’re good kid, you’ve got the part.”

And James head snaps up, looking over at Harry as if he’s lost his mind, but Harry doesn’t see this because the only thing that he can focus on is the smile that’s spreading across the boy’s face.

&

Harry’s at the bar, drink in his hand as he twirls the cup a little on top of the table. He notices someone out of the corner of his eye, walking towards the table, and he’s about to scold Tom for being late when he sees that it isn’t Tom at all. It’s Izzy. She gives him a smile as she takes a seat next to him, placing her bag on the table top as she explains,

“Tom’s hanging out with that new guy in the writing department. His name’s Danny or something. Anyway, can’t blame him, Danny’s pretty cute.”

Harry laughs because he knew that Tom was very interested in this guy. He gives Izzy another smile before waving the waitress over, allowing for Izzy to order herself a drink. When the waitress finally leaves, Izzy turns back to Harry and simply stares at him for a minute before she says,

“So, James told me about the casting today, how you just gave the part away.”

Harry’s got his drink up to his mouth and the cup masks the smile that he’s wearing, simply at the mention of the boy at the casting. He takes a small sip before he says,

“James’s is exaggerating. He tried out, he was good. Plus, I was tired and just wanted to get it over with.”

Izzy looks at him skeptically as the waitress comes over and places her drink in front of her and she gives her a polite nod before taking a sip of her drink as well. She licks her lips, places the glass back down before she says,

“That’s never stopped you from being a prude before.”

And although Harry knows that Izzy wants to push it, wants to know what’s really going on, Harry’s not going to disclose any of that information just yet. So he dismisses it, finishes off his drink, and says,

“Enough about me. What about your love life?”

Izzy raises an eyebrow, didn’t know that they were talking about love lives, but she shrugs it off as she takes another sip. She says,

“It’s great. The actor I’m dating is the picture of perfection.”

Harry gives her a small smile before he asks, “Who are you dating again?” because he doesn’t care too much for actors.

“Charlie Simpson.”

Harry rolls his eyes because he recognizes the name immediately and every mediocre scene that he’s ever done flashes in his head. Izzy, however, takes this the wrong way and she laughs before she says,

“Don’t be jealous because he got me first Judd. You had your chance.”

Harry starts laughing as well, the two of them falling into hysterics and they don’t if it’s because of the slight alcohol that got them going but they didn’t stop laughing until they left the bar.

&

The next day at the first shooting, James and Harry stand by the door of the studio, James looking at his watch and glaring at Harry when he notices that it’s twenty minutes into the time that they were supposed to get started and the boy still isn’t there yet.

He says, “We wouldn’t have this problem if you wouldn’t have hired someone right off the bat.”

Harry rolls his eyes, doesn’t pay James much attention and that makes the shorter man stalk off onto the set, pushing random people out the way as he went. The brunette shakes his head as he fixes his eyes towards the door, the boy walking in as soon as Harry’s eyes connected with the open space. Immediately, he’s rambling.

“Sorry for being late. My mate that drives doesn’t get here until now and he’s my only way of getting here.”

Harry smiles at the fact that the boy’s flustered and actually worrying about making a good impression on him. He simply says,

“It’s alright.”

The blonde gives Harry a shy smile and asks, “What am I supposed to do now?”

And Harry simply motions with his hand for the boy to follow him to the make-up trailer. It’s empty, luckily, and the boy’s a bit hesitant but he sits in the make-up chair anyway, the artist taking another sip of her soda before turning her attention to the boy in the seat. Harry thinks it’s funny, to watch the boy squirm and scrunch his face when the woman starts to cake the make-up on his face. He wants to tell her to cool off it a little bit, that the boy doesn’t need that much make-up, but he doesn’t want to draw too much attention to his personal life.

When the boy’s done Harry leads him out of the trailer and the two of them walk, slowly, to the set. The elder of the two explains all of the aspects of shooting, how the boy just needs to look and act natural, and they’ll get their shot. The boy’s nodding, he’s trying to soak everything in, but Harry knows that they’ll probably have to do some shots multiple times and he’s just glad that they bought a bunch of film.

Before the boy can step a foot onto the set, Harry stops him and asks the one question that he should’ve asked in the first place:

“Have you ever acted before?”

And the boy shakes his head, which just makes Harry, laugh.

&

Harry finds out that he’s an idiot by the time that they’re into their fourth shot and James has had absolutely enough of,

“This kid’s terrible acting!”

And the blonde, whose face is shaded with red, looks up at James through his hair and says, “Dougie. My name’s Dougie.”

Everyone on the set, somehow, hears the small words come out of his mouth and Harry wants to smack himself because he never thought to ask the boy what his name is.

After that small confrontation, Harry thought that James’s anger had subsided, that they could get through the rest of the day smoothly, but after they have to do the same take sixteen times over, and have no useful film, James is fed up and he throws his prop on the ground before he starts shouting at the younger boy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Can’t you read?! The prompt is right! Over! There! Just fucking look at it you twat!”

Everyone on the set is silent, once again, and you can hear a pen drop as Dougie is visibly cringing in front of James, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes as he just takes the verbal abuse that’s being thrown at him. Harry’s second hand, Dave, looks over at the brunette as he watches the entire scene play out on a small screen and it’s only a matter of seconds before Harry’s out of his chair and storming onto the set. Everyone’s eyes are fixated on the man as he makes a beeline towards James, finger pointing to his face as he starts yelling as well.

“Don’t blame this on him James! It’s not his fault that you’re being very uncooperative! You know he’s inexperienced! The least you could is fucking show some sympathy!”

“I don’t need to show sympathy! I’m the one who’s going to bring revenue in for this damn movie! I can fucking quit if I ever get the feeling that working with talent less scum-“

“Get out!”

James stops yelling. He narrows his eyes and looks at Harry as if he’s completely lost his mind.

“What?”

“Get off my set. You’re fired.”

&

Tom and Harry have drinks that night and as soon as the waitress brings them their usual glasses of scotch, Tom asks,

“Why did you fire James again?”

Harry doesn’t even have to ask how Tom knows about it because word’s probably around the entire town by now. James (or anyone else in the studio) was never one to keep things to himself. But Harry explains the entire situation, again, and when he’s done talking, he’s done his drink.

Tom says, “But James has always been that way.” And Harry just shrugs it off, mentally debating whether or not he should get himself another drink. Tom’s still nursing his glass when he says, “Why don’t you tell me what’s so special about this boy.”

Immediately, Harry says, “This has nothing to do with him.”

Tom scoffs, sips at his drink before he turns his head to the entrance way. Harry thinks it’s just something that he always does but from the corner of his eye he can see that Tom’s vision is trained towards the entrance and there’s a small smile gracing his features. Harry follows Tom’s line of vision and his fingers stop fiddling with his glass as soon as his eyes land on Dougie. The blonde looks at him almost immediately and he gives him a smile. Harry tries to smile back, but for some reason his face just can’t conjure one up and his mind’s swimming when Dougie starts walking right towards his table.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the boy, who isn’t looking at him anymore, but at Tom, the two of them are exchanging greetings and a handshake before the man that Dougie’s with, gives Tom a hug. This must be Danny. The two of them take their seats before Tom introduces Danny to Harry and the brunette sort of gives Harry a nod a smile, the director doing the same.

Harry glances back over to where Dougie’s taken a seat across from him and the blonde bites his bottom lip before he gives him another smile. He’s just as nervous as he is.

Danny says, “I think I’m just going to go up,” and Harry just then notices that he’s been trying to grab the busy waitress’s attention.

He gets up from the table and it’s only a matter of seconds before Tom follows suit and leads the other man to the bar.

As soon as their out of ear shot and Harry turns his attention back to Dougie, the blonde says,

“I’m sorry for being complete crap today.”

Harry waves it off and says, “It isn’t your fault, its James’s for being such an insensitive asshole.”

Dougie laughs and it wasn’t meant to be a joke, Harry’s serious, but he finds the blonde’s laugh to be the cutest sound that he’s ever heard, so he smiles.

“It’s just,” Dougie starts when he’s done laughing: “I can never get it. It’s hard for met be so outside of myself, to be someone else.”

Harry nods, understands on some level and says, “If we don’t get too drunk tonight, we’ll go back to my place and runs lines alright?”

And Dougie smiles and nods.

&

Neither of them gets drunk because Harry’s too used to drinking and Dougie doesn’t want to make an ass of himself in front of Harry. So they enter Harry’s apartment with just two glasses of alcohol in their systems, although the elder pours himself a scotch as soon as the two of them get comfortable in his living area. The coffee table is set up by the window of the penthouse flat and while Harry has his back to Dougie, he says,

“There’s a script on top of the television. Run the scene from today.”

And Harry doesn’t turn around as he sips on his drink slowly; Dougie’s movements just as slow as he grabs the script, flips to the scene and starts to read. He’s stumbling over every word and Harry closes his eyes, breaths in and out before he downs his drink quickly, places the empty glass back on the coffee table, and turns around to face the boy. He’s still talking, still messing up, when Harry just tells him to,

“Stop reading like someone asked to read out loud in class. Just act. Act like this is really happening.”

Dougie nods and he reads his lines again. There’s less stumbling but he’s still reading so Harry tells him to stop and start over again. This goes on for a couple times, Dougie starting, messing up and Harry to tell him to start over again. It happens so much that the younger one starts to get frustrated and there are tears in the corner of his eyes and it makes Harry’s heart break because he’s pushed him to this level.

He tells him to stop once more and when Dougie swallows something in his throat, hoping that Harry isn’t going to ask him to start all over again, he doesn’t. He leaves the blonde alone for a minute, goes to grab a water out of the refrigerator, and comes back to hand it to Dougie. Harry sits down on the couch, motions for Dougie to do the same, and once the boy has the cap unscrewed, Harry says,

“We’re going to take a break from this whole thing. Why don’t you tell me about yourself? How you ended up here.”

Dougie fiddles with the bottled water in his hand and explains, “I just sort of followed Danny here because I wanted to get out of Hillcrest so bad. I mean, it’s only me, my mum, and my sister and she’s smart so she’s going to do something with her life. I didn’t luck out in the brains department and when my mum said that I couldn’t skate all my life, that I would have to work at McDonald’s or something, then I knew that I had to get out and make something out of myself. Prove her wrong.” And the blonde stops, sighs, before he says: “I don’t hate my mum or anything, it’s just….She doesn’t believe that stuff like this happens. She doesn't even believe that I’m going to be in a movie. I told her, but she just told me I need to get my head out of the clouds.”

Harry scoffs, lies back against the couch and says, “My mum said the same thing…And I wish I could say that I don’t hate her.”

Dougie smiles, laughs a little, before he says, “And look at you now.”

Harry smiles at him, shakes his head before he says, “It’s nice, this whole life and everything. But it isn’t what I wanted.”

Dougie tilts his head to the side and asks, “Well, what did you want?”

And Harry just smiles at him before he says, “Let’s run lines again, this time, don’t stress out.”

&

Harry doesn’t know how Tom did it, but he got James back, although the elder of the two obviously didn’t drop the small grudge because ever since he entered the building his eyes have been trained everywhere except towards Harry, and the director’s okay with that. He’s just glad that he doesn’t have to go and try to find someone else to fill James’s shoes because he doesn’t know if he could even take the casting process anymore.

They run the first romantic scene between James and Dougie’s characters because Harry thinks that it’s going to be the easiest, and most natural. He doesn’t why, but from his experience, it’s just been that way. So he gets the set ready and the two of them, James and Dougie, stand in front of the camera. Harry calls action and the film rolls, James’s lines slipping off his tongue with ease, while it takes the youngest blonde seconds to get a simple word out. And Harry can tell that he knows the lines, knows what comes next, but he’s simply just a mess of nerves and that’s causing him to stumble recklessly over his lines. And although Harry wants to desperately stop the scene, make him start over like last night, he doesn’t. He lets it run all the way to the kiss, thinking that they can get something out of this horrendous scene, but he’s sadly mistaken.

Their lips clash together and neither of them is even making an effort to kiss the other one sensually and in the midst, Dougie just gives up and tries to pull away but James has a hold on his waist like he actually thinks this kiss looks good on screen. Before James can completely devour the poor boy with his mouth, Harry calls a loud cut and James pulls away, glaring at the small boy and he’s about to say something, Harry can practically see the venom on his tongue, and the director has to storm the set, once again, to warn James what just happened the day before.

The eldest blonde gets it, doesn’t say anything as Harry moves past him, takes Dougie’s wrist and pulls him off the set. The boy follows, willingly, trying to keep up with Harry’s speed as the entire set watches the two men disappear from the set. Dougie wants to ask where Harry’s taking him but he says nothing when he sees his trailer come into sight and the brunette’s pulling him into it, locking the door behind him. He lets go of Dougie’s wrist and the blonde’s about to apologize when Harry holds up his hand and says,

“Lines. Read them. Me and you, this is happening.”

Dougie immediately starts on his lines, stumbling over the words like he did on the set, and when it comes to James’s lines, Harry spits them out perfectly, staring down Dougie like he should know this. The blond lets out a breath, relaxing a bit, and he says the next line without any jumbled words, although it’s a bit choppy, but its better.

Harry knows all of James’s lines and he says them like he's the actual character himself, which helps Dougie feel even more relaxed and fall into the person that he’s supposed to play. By the end of the short scene, Dougie has the last line before the kiss down perfectly and the mood has shifted so dramatically that neither of them really know where they are anymore. They’re caught between reality and the movie screen and before either of them can stop it, the two of them move into the kiss.

It’s subtle and they don’t even know where its going, when Harry wraps his arms around Dougie’s waist, pulls him close, presses more into the kiss, and somewhere, Dougie’s script drops to the floor. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, trying to keep him close, and the two know that they aren’t in character anymore, they’ve blurred the lines and they’ve let themselves slip without caring.

There’s more pressure on their bodies as Harry moves them both towards the vanity, Dougie's back pressing against the counter and its just enough pressure to sting, although he says nothing, just moves his fingers to tangle themselves in Harry’s hair, pulling at the shorts strands as someone knocks softly on the door.

The two of them pull apart, ignoring the knock, and just stare at one another, out of breath and completely out of reality. They both want to ask if that really just happened but their bruised lips and messy hair tells all.

Dougie says, “Your line,” and Harry can’t believe it, but he’s forgotten and Dougie just smiles and says: “It’s alright. I think I got I now.”

&

That night, when Harry and Tom go out drinking, neither of them say anything when they sit down at the table, or even when they receive their drinks. The only sound being made between the two of them are their slurping at their drinks, eyes darting around the room, ears listening in on others conversations.

When they’re almost done their second drink, almost ready to go home, Tom asks,

“Anything eventful happen today?”

And Harry shakes his head before he asks Tom the same, but he just shakes his head as well.

&

They go through the kissing scene the next day and it only takes Dougie three tries for him to get it down pact and on screen, it looks amazing. It looks real, so clichéd and romantic that Harry might actually puke when he sees this on opening day.

But James is smiling at Dougie, finally, and gives him a small, “Congratulations,” before he walks off the set for an early lunch and everyone else, the entire crew, decides that they’re going to do the same.

Harry steps out of his director’s chair, makes sure that his screen is turned off before he collects the script and places it neatly on the seat of his chair. He’s thinking about lunch, what he’s going to get, when there’s a small tap on his shoulder. He smiles because he’s pretty sure he knows who it is and the blonde hair that he first gets a glimpse of tells him that he right.

“How did I do?” Dougie immediately asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looks at Harry expectantly.

“You did great,” Harry says and he goes back to organizing his things, his microscope, his megaphone, before the blonde gives him one last smile and starts to follow everyone else off the set. Harry then says, “Hey, Dougie?” and the boy turns around: “Want to get lunch, together?” And he nods, with a smile.

There’s a food cart right outside of the set and they just decide to stop there, both of them getting a hotdog, a drink, and Harry buys a bag of crisps that they can share. They then decide that they don’t want to sit outside and eat, no matter how nice the weather was. They decide that the set is nicer place, with its faux concrete, grass, and trees, and Harry sort of hates it, how something so fake can become so real that it’s actually preferred over nature. But Dougie seems to like it, the way he sinks into the grass comfortably.

He’s halfway through his hotdog when he says, “I’m so glad I slept at your place last night. I mean, me and Danny, we share a room and he snores so loudly.” It makes Harry laugh because it’s unexpected but he’s sure that Dougie hasn’t meet anyone else in this town yet and probably can only vent to him, so he lets him continue. “Plus, he talks in his sleep, like talks in sleep. And from what I’ve heard, he and Tom totally had sex in the work room the other day.”

Harry almost spits out his drink but his throat catches it and it throws him into a coughing fit, which Dougie helps him through by patting his back. But once the liquid is done burning his throat, Harry’s laughing and he says, “Wanker fucking lied to me,” and Dougie’s confused: “He told me nothing interesting happened.”

The blonde rolls his eyes, playfully, and says, “I’m sure sex with Danny isn’t interesting.”

Harry laughs, once more, before he waits for his laugh to die down so that he can take a drink. The two of them sat in silence once more, Dougie finishing off his hotdog and Harry finishing off his as well. The blonde reaches for the bag of crisps, opens it, and takes one before he asks, “So you didn’t tell me yesterday, but what did you want to do before all of this?”

The brunette smiles, takes another drink, before he says, “I wanted to travel, nowhere particular though just…Anywhere. And when I found out Tom was coming out here I thought, ‘alright, a small trip, but I’m traveling’. It was certainly not my plan to stay here and make it big but,” and he shrugs: “stuff happens.”

“I want to travel too,” Dougie says in a small voice: “I mean, I still want to travel. To the mountains mainly, the ones in Oxensville. My mum went there for her honeymoon, said it was lovely and all of that.”

Harry nods, takes another drink before he takes the bag of crisps from Dougie and eats one. He says, “That’s a good idea.”

And Dougie shrugs, “It’s just an idea.”

&

Harry and Tom don’t go out drinking that night because Tom calls Harry after work and gives him the excuse that, “I’m just too tried mate,” and although Harry can possibly think of a million and one reason why Tom’s too tired, starting and ending with Danny, he says nothing. He shrugs it off and decides that a night in, just lazing around and watching some television is just what he needs.

There’s a cricket match on and he’s not that into it when his mobile rings. He fishes it out of his pocket, flips it open and says, “Harry Judd.”

“Hey Harry.” It’s Dougie and he sounds like he’s trying to stiffen a giggle: “Do you think I could come over for a bit, maybe run lines or something…Tom’s at me and Danny’s place and uh…How can I put this? He’s…They’re making too much noise.”

Harry laughs, gets what Dougie’s trying to say and he says, “Yeah. It’s fine with me.”

Dougie hangs up the phone and Harry laughs again, to himself, just at the mere thought of the blonde being trapped in his own house with the other two “loud” men. And then he gets a mental picture and sort of wants to scrub his brain clean.

It doesn’t take long for the boy to get to Harry’s flat, in fact, the brunette sort of wants to ask where Dougie lives but as soon as he opens the flat door, Dougie’s walking straight to the living area and flopping down on his couch. Harry’s lucky that he already has two glasses of scotch ready.

Dougie’s never had scotch but he can’t seem to shake the mental picture that’s imprinted in his mind or the sounds that he’s heard. So he downs the drink in a heartbeat and although he doesn’t like it, thinks it’s just a bit too rusty, he stomachs it anyway.

And the two of them sit on the couch, watching the cricket match in silence, until Harry says,

“Tom’s a screamer? Never knew.”

&

Harry wakes up the next morning and he’s thinks something’s seriously wrong when he’s still in his clothes from the night before and there’s a great weight on his chest. He’s had nights like this before, drunken nights when he had just started out drinking, and he thinks that it couldn’t have happened again, not at his age at least.

But he smiles when he sees that the weight is none other than Dougie’s head on his chest, his body curled next to Harry’s on the couch as he sleeps soundly. The brunette looks to the clock, wondering just how long they slept in, and when he sees that they’re two hours behind schedule, he shrugs the movie off for the day. He fishes through his pocket, pulls out his mobile and dials Fletch’s number, the other man picking up on the third ring.

He asks, “Where the hell are you Judd?”

And Harry smiles before he says, “Good morning to you too Fletch,” and the man on the other end can only sigh: “Look. I’m not coming in today. It’s too late and I just don’t feel up to it.”

The elder’s quiet for a little while and Harry’s not sure whether he got the message or not, but when he’s just about to close his phone, Fletch says,

“Harry we’ve already set up for the day and we’ve all been waiting for over an hour for you and that-Wait, this doesn’t have anything to do with…Where’s Poynter? Is he there with you?” and Harry smirks before he simply ends the call and turns off his mobile.

He tries to place the device back in his pocket, without waking the blonde, but it’s absolutely no use because a soon as he shifts, Dougie’s eyes are blinking open and the boys moves from Harry’s chest, eyes wild as he looks around his surroundings completely confused. His hair’s flat on one side and completely standing on ends on the other and it takes everything Harry has not to laugh at the sight. But no matter how hilarious Harry finds the sight he wouldn’t mind waking up to it every morning.

“Hey, morning.” Harry says and Dougie looks at him as if he’s trying to figure out his identity before he says,

“Yeah. Morning,” and it takes Dougie a while but he soon nods, mind un-boggled as he says: “Yeah, right, Danny and Tom.”

He moves from the couch, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulder for support as he stands on his feet and starts to stretch, the brunette watching all of his movements closely. He notices this, Dougie, and he gives the elder a shy smile before he asks,

“Bathroom?” and Harry nods, pointing down the hall where the guest bathroom is situated.

As soon as Dougie leaves the room, Harry follows suit and enters his own bathroom to get ready for the day and when he’s done, he comes back out into the living area where Dougie’s leaning against the arm of the couch. He smiles at Harry when he walks in the room before he says,

“I better be going then,” and he stands up straight, moving towards the door: “Danny might actually be worried.” And then he says, “But, I doubt it.”

It makes the both of them laugh, slightly, and Harry says,

“See you tomorrow?” and Dougie nods.

The blonde’s got his hand on the door knob and he’s twisting it, opening the door slightly when Harry says,

“Hey. I think you left something.”

And Dougie’s confused so he turns around and before he can ask exactly what he left, his lips are touching Harry’s. His thoughts are swimming and he can do nothing but smile when the brunette pulls away.

“Oh yeah,” he says with a slight flush to his cheeks: “How could I have forgotten that?”

&

The shooting goes on for two exhaustive months although the time seems shorter in between the small moments that Dougie and Harry share on the set during their lunch time, locking each other in their trailers and making out until someone has to come and get them. And it’s surprising to the both of them that no one suspects anything, in fact, Dougie's been getting questioned more and more about when’s he’s going to start dating someone famous, and although the blonde can only flush and giggle, Harry doesn’t want to say anything. Not yet anyway.

Besides, Dougie’s too worried about his acting skills, which have gotten much better. He and Harry, in between their heated sessions, run lines constantly, just to make sure that everything’s up to par or, rather, James’s standards.

Danny and Tom are dating, which isn’t as weird as Harry thought it would be, the only set back being that he and Tom’s bar nights are becoming lesser and lesser, and when the blonde actually finds time away from his boyfriend, he’s constantly checking his phone, wondering if Danny called or messaged him. And Harry never says anything until one night, before they can even get started with the drinks, Tom walks in, staring at his phone. He sits down at the table, reluctantly, and Harry says

“Go ahead Tom. I’ve got a big week ahead of me anyway. Go see Danny.”

The blonde looks taken a back, like he’s surprised that Harry even noticed his new dependency on his phone, but he says nothing but,

“You sure?”

And Harry gives him a weak nod and an even weaker smile. The two of them know that this change is inevitable, that Tom’s best friend, his partner in crime, is Danny now and although neither of them want to recognize it, it’s staring the two of them in the face. But they could change it, if they want to, and if they try, but it seems pretty useless when Tom doesn’t even try to fight it. When he doesn’t stay.

&

James breaks his leg when they’re filming the last scene.

There’s some faulty scenery, and Harry doesn’t know why because his crew paid top dollar for everything that decorates the set. But there’s some screws loose on one of the lamp posts and the top off it completely fell off while James was lying on the concrete, trying to recite his lines, and the hard metal completely shattered his bone. And although James was trying to say that he was okay through the tears that were successfully falling down his cheeks, they all knew that they had to get him to the hospital and fast.

The doctor says that it’ll be two months before he could even think about standing and although no one wants to postpone shooting, they all just want to get this done, there’s really nothing that they can do. So they all get a two month vacation and everyone gets over the fact that their work period is sort of extended, rather quickly when they realize they have two completely free months.

But Harry, he’s a little stressed about it because he hates directing movies, truthfully, and he just wants to get the project done. And he mopes around the set for a little bit before a light bulb goes off in his head, the mere idea making a grin spread across his face.

Then Dougie turns around, because he’s sure that Harry was behind him and he wants to tell him just how weird he thinks that this whole situation is, but the brunette’s no where to be seen.

&

Dougie’s in his boxers and one of Danny’s old t-shirts when there’s a knock at their flat door.

He’s closest to it, so he gets up from the couch, stops watching television, and walks to answer it, despite Danny’s desperate callings that he has it. But the blonde doesn't listen because he knows that Danny’s expecting Tom, and he knows that Danny especially likes to greet Tom at the doorway and share their affection for one another for an extended period of time while their neighbors are going in and out of their flats. And although Dougie certainly doesn’t care what they think, he still thinks that it’s a bit…tactless.

So he opens the door and there’s a large smile on his face when he gets to tell Danny, “It’s not Tom you idiot!” and there’s a loud, disappointing, groan coming from his bedroom. The two of them laugh before Dougie pulls Harry in for a hug and a soft kiss before he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Harry smiles and asks, “So a guy can’t come and see his boyfriend?” and Dougie’s eyes light up at the question because, they never gave their relationship a title before and he’s been waiting for Harry to make it official.

“You can come see me whenever you want. You know that.”

The brunette nods and smiles a little more before he asks, “What have you got planned for the next two months?” and Dougie says nothing, which is exactly what Harry wants to hear.

The elder of the two pulls out two tickets from his pocket and at first, the blonde’s completely confused. But he takes the tickets from the man nonetheless and he looks over them, for any indication of what they’re for and he almost squeals in delight when he sees that they’re train tickets to the mountains in Oxensville.

He can almost cry.

But he doesn’t. He just does the next best thing that he can think of and that’s jumping on Harry, almost tackling him to the ground as he covers his face in kisses.

&

Harry hasn’t been getting much sleep lately, with the movie and all, so he takes the majority of the train to catch up on all the dreaming he’s missed and although Harry apologizes, every time he wakes up, Dougie doesn’t mind because Harry’s sleeping gives him a chance to day dream and see all the sights they pass on their way to their destination. However, Dougie doesn’t know that Harry’s an extremely heavy sleeper and when the train stops he almost has to push the man out of his seat to wake him from his slumber, but as soon as he gets him stirring, Harry forces himself to get up because he can see the excitement in Dougie’s eyes, although his own are practically closed.

The blonde’s the first one out of the two to exit the train and soon as he gets onto the platform he proclaims, “The air is so much fresher out here.”

And Harry’s so used to smoky bars and smoggy atmosphere of Summerville that he almost chokes on the clean air in the mountains.

After the brunette’s small coughing it, the two of them catch a taxi to their hotel and Dougie’s practically bouncing in his seat when they pass the shops and the ski slopes of the small town. In fact, he’s so excited that he leaves Harry with the bags, the younger one jetting to the front desk to sign in, get the room key, and see just how lovely the rooms in Oxensville actually are.

Dougie used to think that his mum was exaggerating, about the style of the hotel that she stayed in, but as soon as he walks into the, “Best room we’ve got in Oxensville,” as said by the woman at the front desk, Dougie knows that his mother was most certainly not lying.

It’s magnificent and everything in the large place has to be more worth more pounds than Dougie's ever seen in his life. But he only basks in the glory of the room for a bit, before turning to Harry and proclaiming,

“I want to walk around for a while.”

&

The two of them get back to the hotel late and after a trip to the many shops, the top of the mountain, and the local pub, their alcohol intake mixes perfectly with the weight of their muscles and the overpowering need for sleep, causing everything around them to be just a tad misty.

They’re hanging off of each other, but not because of the natural high that they’re on, but simply because they want to. And the two of them fall on the bed with Harry on top of Dougie as the blonde chuckles and slurs,

“I want to live here forever, cos, Haz, cos…because this place is too amazing!”

Harry smiles down at the boy and says, “You’ll…Your gonna-have to write sometime Dougs.”

And the blonde smiles cheekily before he says, “Maybe to Danny but, he doesn’t read so…Not to you though, cos, you’re living with me.”

Harry doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just kisses him and Dougie’s doesn’t miss a beat, just kisses him back and the two of them become wrapped up in each other, forgetting about everything, if only for a little while.

&

They’re there for a month when Fletch calls and says,

“It’s a miracle Judd, but James can stand on his leg. Don’t ask me how, but he can stand and he can even walk a little. You know what this means? We can finish the last scene and wrap this whole project up.”

And Fletch doesn’t give Harry a chance to argue that he and Dougie are on vacation and having a very lovely time because he promptly, hangs up the phone.

The brunette sighs, sadly, as he watches Dougie rush around the snow board shop, picking up a board before putting it back, only to pick it up again before falling in love with another style. He thinks it’s adorable, how Dougie’s sort of like a woman when it comes to his shopping and he really doesn’t want to interrupt but he knows that if he doesn’t get back to Summerville than Fletch is going to have his head on a stick.

So Harry wraps his arms around Dougie’s waist when the blonde’s staring at two boards, trying desperately to make a decision, and he says,

“James is walking. Fletch says we have to come back and film the rest of the scene.”

Dougie turns around in his arms and he’s frowning a little, which makes Harry feel like complete shit and he’s ready to get on his mobile and tell Fletch to shove it up his ass, they’re staying, but all the blonde asks is,

“Can we finish this trip sometime?”

Harry smiles, nods, and says, “As soon as they movie’s all wrapped up, after the premiere, we’ll come back.”

Dougie smiles and leans up to kiss him quickly before he says, “We better get going then. The faster we wrap things up, the faster we get back.”

&

James can’t actually walk, he can wobble, stumble, and try not to fall if someone’s there to catch him and Harry’s shooting daggers to the side of Fletch’s head when it takes the man twenty minutes to stagger onto the set. When he takes his position, Dougie has to place the palm of his hand on the small of James’s back, steadying him just so he doesn’t fall, but the act doesn’t look right because in this scene they’re supposed to be fighting. They’re supposed to yell, scream, and flail at each other and the first time that James actually tries to flail, he falls right onto his ass.

So it takes six takes. Five more than it would’ve taken James if he was fully healed and Harry’s sort of hoping that they all came back for nothing so that he could possibly get Fletch fired for ruining his goddamn vacation, but James is just too proud to go out like that, so he gets it on the sixth take, perfectly.

The movie’s over, it’s finally over and Harry smiles in relief as the entire set claps and start talking about what they’re going to wear to the premiere, and who they heard is already excited for the release. The director watches, through the screen as Dougie and James smile at each other, the older blonde reaching out to give the younger blonde a hug but ends up falling right into his arms and the only thing Dougie can do is laugh because it’s funny and Harry has stifle one behind his hand as well because Fletch is tapping him on the shoulder, needing to tell him something urgent.

The extras help James off the set because he really needs to sit down, can’t hold his balance anymore, and Dougie feels bad for him because there’s indescribable pain in his eyes as he attempts to walk on it. He thinks that he should’ve given his leg more time to heal but the relief that the weight of the movie is off his shoulders makes him see just why James wanted to just get this done.

And Harry is talking to Fletch, and although Dougie wants to go out, celebrate with Tom and Danny, he knows that they’re probably chatting about something important so he busies himself with playing in the faux snow that decorates the entire set. He’s having a small amount of fun, prancing over to the lamp post and drawing a line through the “snow” right before he writes “Dougie hearts Harry” next to it. He’s smiling, brightly, before he turns to Harry and immediately, he catches the brunette’s eyes. He merely gives him a small wave before going back to the lamp post, drawing a heart around the words.

The elder of the two wants to know what’s going, what exactly the blonde is doing over there, but he can’t pay him much attention because Fletch keeps going on and on about what needs to be done before the deadline and Harry’s only half listening, staring at the man, when something shatters, falls, and someone’s screaming.

It’s a shrill scream and it causes both Harry and Fletch to cover their ears, both men looking around for the source and immediately, Harry’s eyes catch the growing crowd of people that are gathered around the lamp post, where Dougie once he stood. And Harry’s panicking because he can’t see Dougie, he doesn’t know where he is, and he’s prone to thinking the worst so he immediately heads over to the crowd. He walks quickly and although there are people in the crowd telling him to stay back, he doesn’t listen. He has to know what happen and he pushes past everyone, falling to his knees when he sees the sight that he was hoping he would not see.

It’s Dougie, lying virtually lifeless on the ground, a large cut on his skull and blood quickly spilling out of it covering the floor. The crew doesn’t even seem to mind, one member avidly checking his pulse over and over again. The director looks to them, wants to know he’s still alive but the hope that was once in their eyes is completely gone when they place his wrist back to the ground and merely glance Harry’s way.

But he won’t believe it, can’t believe that this is actually happening, so he scoops the boy up in his arms and rocks him back and forth, ignoring the cool touch of his paling skin against his own. He knows he’s not dead, knows that he’s just gotten this good at acting and Harry wishes that he would stop because he just really wants to tell him that it’s okay, that he’s done well, he proved that he can be just as good as an actor as James.

The reassurance, however, never comes. His body stays motionless in Harry’s arms as the man keeps his tears to himself, eyes searching the room for the culprit of this disaster, yet he can’t find anything sufficient enough to cause the cut. However, his eyes scan the lamppost and land on the sloppy handwriting of the boy in his arms and although it causes a large lump to form in his throat, Harry will not cry. Because crying means that he’s…And Dougie just can’t be.

And while one of the crew members ends the call with the hospital, he says nothing to anyone, the lifeless body still lying in his arms as the shattered glass from the top of the lamppost, almost cuts his skin as he sits.

&

He knows he was dead before he even got to his body. Harry doesn’t want to believe it, but he does.

&

The glass of scotch is completely empty and Harry’s getting tired of staring at the nothingness, but his bloodshot eyes just can’t seem to drag themselves away. They’re tired, and he’s afraid that if he looks anywhere else they might just start falling out of his sockets.

Tom comes in and he isn’t checking his phone this time, in fact, he slips right into the chair next to Harry and places a small hand on his shoulder as his friend musters up a small smile, just for him. And Harry’s about to wave the waitress over when Tom stops him.

“I’m not here to drink Harry. I wanted to see if you were alright.”

Harry shrugs and says, “Everything’s how it’s supposed to be Tom.” And he doesn’t look at the blonde as he speaks, he just slides his chair back from the table and stands because, his drink is done. Tom’s watching him, confused, and the brunette just envelopes him in a small hug, Tom barely being to hug back when Harry pulls away and simply says: “Good bye Tom.”

&

It isn’t hard, to sell all of his things, to sell his flat, to walk away from Summerville. He never liked it here much anyway.

He gets into his car and he drives, without calling anyone, without leaving a note. He turns off his mobile, places it at the bottom of his suitcase. He’ll forget about it in time. He just drives, the only thing on his mind is reaching Oxensville.

He’ll buy a house up there and he’ll live off the money he’s made during his years of directing. He doesn’t need his job, he doesn’t need anything except to fulfill his promise.

End

Play Store Series.

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 22:54:10 GMT

Title:Play Store.
Author:Me.
Part:1/1
Rating:PG-13
Pairing:JayBourne, PoynterJones
Summary:Matt owns a comic store, James, Dougie, and Tom simply work in it.
Disclaimer:Don't own never happened.

Play store.

Series 1.

Matt owns the store, and he doesn’t really now why, but one day he was walking along and he saw that his favorite video game/comic book store was going out of business and he couldn’t just let happen. So he waltzed in, demanded that the blonde kid at the front desk let him to speak the owner, and when they boy just rolled his eyes, picked up the phone, dialed a number and handed it over to him, Matt said, “Hi my name’s Matt Willis and sort of want to buy your shop.”

It’s really as simple as that.

&

Dougie works at the front desk of the store and he’s only working there because he got fired from his last job, at the skate shop, for giving away too many free boards. And although he explained to his manager, his female teenage manager, “I can’t resist, these boys are just too fucking pretty!” she didn’t understand and he flipped her off before storming out of the shop.

He reads magazines all day, mostly Blender and Playboy (because he still likes looking at naked girls), and occasionally, he answers the phone. His voice is lacks excitement as he recites, “Hello. Welcome Bebo’s games and comics how may I help you?” over and over again.

He only half listens to the customer on the other end, ranting on and on about the back issues of Conan, ears picking up only the questions, and even then, he transfers the call to the comic book section. And although it’s only steps away, he doesn’t feel like yelling.

&

Tom works in the comic book section and although he doesn’t hate it as much as he did in the beginning, he still can’t stand it. There’s nothing about comic books that interests him, he’s more of a video game and movie guy, but Dougie handles the video games and much to Tom’s dismay, they don’t sell movies.

He voices his opinion on this, three days after Matt buys the shop. He corners him by the Rainbow Six: Vegas 2 display and says, “Look we need movies, seriously. Movies bring in revenue. I mean, have you seen our profits lately?” And Matt hasn’t so when he just shakes his head, Tom pats him on the shoulder and says, “Exactly. Think about it.”

&

There’s an old computer in the back of the store where Matt’s office is. It’s the only device that the previous owner didn’t take with him and Matt can see why not. It’s an old Dell and it runs agonizingly slow, fifteen minutes passing before he can even click on the icon that leads him to the store’s financial program. He double clicks, waits another fifteen minutes, before a notice pops up that says: “Welcome to Financial Assistant 1999. Click yes to set up your account or no to exit the program”.

He clicks “no” and heads out to the front desk where Dougie’s drinking a Big Gulp and flipping through a Maxim.

The computer at the front desk is newer, 2006 Dell model, and he says nothing to the teen as he logs onto the owner’s account and starts up, Financial Assistant 2003. He immediately notices that Tom has a point, their sells are rapidly low and when Dougie’s finished slurping out the remainder of his drink, he looks over Matt’s shoulder and says,

“It’s an eyesore isn’t it? Makes you want to pinch your pocket and make sure that there’s actually money in there.”

&

The next day, Matt walks up Tom when he’s putting up posters for Super Smash Brothers: Brawl in the window and he says, “You were right, we need revenue. Getting some movies is a good thing. The only problem is, I don’t know how any of this works.”

Tom puts the poster on the window, makes sure it sticks before stepping back and making sure that it’s straight. When it’s fine, he looks at Matt, hands on his hips and asks, “So you haven’t run a store before?” Matt shakes his head before shrugging and Tom just squints in the sun before saying, “I’ve got some books at home. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”

&

He forgets to them bring them in, “But it’s alright, it’s alright. I just called my girlfriend and she’s coming, right now with the books and donuts.”

Tom’s girlfriend, Giovanna, is nothing like Matt excepted her to be (nerdy and the like). She’s actually quite lovely, doesn’t ramble on about video games, movies, or Star Wars and kisses Tom with a smile on her lips when he thanks her with a tight hug.

She drops the box of donuts on the front desk, Dougie immediately taking one before giving her a wave and she smiles back. She asks how school’s going and Dougie just rolls his eyes, going back to his Rolling Stone.

She turns to Matt and Tom next, the blonde explaining what each book has inside in intricate detail and really, Matt’s more interested in what kind of donuts Giovanna bought. Luckily, she picks up on this, grabs a chocolate glaze, and hands it over to him. He nods, a quick thank you, before biting into the sweet, Giovanna smiling when Tom just keeps talking and talking.

“Come on babe, just give the books to…Matt is it? I’m sure he can read. I’m sure he can find out for himself.”

And her voice projects perfectly in the room, Tom blushing, nodding, and handing the books over to Matt without another word about them. Giovanna smiles a little more, wraps her arms around his waist and says, “Walk me to my car. After all, I did leave my show just to bring you the books.”

And Tom, doesn’t protest, he’s happy to do anything that she says.

&

Matt can’t do this. He’s literally been up for sixteen hours straight, trying to figure out heads or tails in the text. He thinks that he should’ve overridden Giovanna and just let Tom talk.

He feels as if he’s just going to keel over and die at any moment, so he blindly grabs his coat, keys, and heads for the nearest coffee shop, which just so happens to not be a Starbuck’s.

It’s nearly empty when he gets inside, the only occupants being those of college students, and when he stumbles up to the register, he has to hold onto the counter because his legs are about to give out, his body begging for some sort of sleep. The man at the counter takes his order and when Matt just wants, “Coffee. Straight. Black,” he comes back with the large drink in seconds. Matt stares at the cup before he says, “Small. Meant small. I’ve got like, two pounds.”

The man smiles at him, pushes the cup towards him and says, “You look like you need a large. I think you’re going to pass out any minute now.”

Matt just nods, downs the drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the man behind the counter watching it all in amazement. It doesn’t do much, but the caffeine shooting through his veins at least allows him to stand up straight and not wobble from side to side.

There are blue eyes staring back at him and when Matt looks at the man, questioning his stare, he just flushes and says, “I was just wondering what the hell your doing up so late.”

“I’ve got a business to run, and I don’t what the fuck I’m doing.”

The man smiles (at the word “fuck”) before he says, “Too bad you didn’t go to college for business. I did. But look where that got me, working at a fucking coffee shop.”

And Matt’s eyes light up, dimly, before he asks, “Did they teach how to run a business in business school?”

&

James starts his position as financial advisor that Friday. He’s excited because he actually hated his job at the coffee shop because he couldn’t stand coffee and he couldn’t stand his clothes smelling like the drink.

It was a leap of faith, trusting a stranger, especially when he didn’t even look at the financial status that the store was in. He almost chokes on his drink when he analyzes the digital files, asking, “Do you guys even pay the bills? You can’t be because you’d all be in debt right down to your own pockets.”

And Matt, who was looking over his shoulder asks, “What? What are you talking about?”

“I mean. If you were paying the rental fees and-“

“Rental fees?”

Matt sort of interrupts James’s getting ready to rant, and the blonde looks at him as if he’s completely lost his mind. Then he says, “Don’t. Tell. Me-“

“I didn’t know we had rental fees!”

James, sighs, because Matt really wasn’t lying when he told him that he had no idea what he was doing. Then, James pushes past both Matt and Dougie (who’s currently occupied with a Penthouse), and walks outside of the store. Matt thinks he’s leaving, thinks he’s giving up on his pathetic attempt to run a business, but when James returns with arms full of mail, Matt’s a bit relieved.

Well he’s relieved until he sees the big red notice on the top of the mail that says, “Don’t want to face EVTICTION? Then get your rental fees in today!”

&

Everyone has to pay out their pocket, 40 pounds each, to pay for the rent, and although Matt feels like he’s stealing the money away from his employees none of them actually mind. They all, sort of, like working there and Dougie says, “It’s better than working at fucking Starbuck’s or some shit like that.”

&

They didn’t have the budget to get a movie section, but James thought it was a good idea so he went to the bank and got them a business loan, in his name. “I’ve got good credit, no big deal,” he says when Matt looks at him as if he’s insane, but really, he felt like he was going to be sick because that’s James’s ass on the line if this whole movie thing doesn’t work out,

Luckily, it does.

They’ve got every single genre, even Adult (which Dougie suggested) and Tom’s absolutely enthralled when he sees the large collection. Matt smiles when he sees him employees face, Tom planting himself in front of the Sci-Fi section. He asks, “You wanna run this part of the store?” and immediately, Tom nods generously, eyes as large as plates as he stares down all the movies, he no doubt, has seen multiple times.

The movies bring in a slew of new people, which ticks off a little bit because he can’t read his “dirty” magazines anymore because, “Children are coming in here now,” as James explains it.

And, Dougie, he says, “Screw kids. Screw these new customers. I should be able to read whatever I want!”

That was before noon. That was before Dougie changed his mind completely.

&

Danny Jones comes in everyday at noon, when he’s on his lunch break, and he walks around the store, hands in his deep pockets as his eyes scan all the movies, video games, and occasionally, the comics.

Dougie watches his every move and sometimes, Danny catches him looking and throws him a smile. This only makes Dougie flush as he buries his head in his Rolling Stone. He doesn’t want Danny to buy anything because he’s pretty sure his head might explode if he has to talk to him, and everyday, he doesn’t buy a thing. He simply looks around, gives the store a nod of approval and walks out.

One day, though, Danny walks in and heads straight for the counter, Dougie being taken by surprise when he wasn’t really paying attention and he was met with the gaze of the man he’s been admiring from afar. He’s sure it isn’t working, but he tries to undermine his blush when Danny asks, “Have ya got Superbad in yet?” And Dougie thinks he’s going to melt, his accent is just too amazing.

The blonde can’t form words and he starts keying away at his computer, looking to see if the movie’s even in and yes, it is. He turns to tell the brunette that they have it, but there’s just not a voice in his throat and he feels like smacking himself brutally.

Danny stands there and waits patiently, grinning at the boy when he seems incapable of forming sentences. It isn’t until Matt, who was watching the whole tragic ordeal with James, comes over and says, “It’s against the back wall. New Releases.” And Danny smiles at Dougie, nods at Matt before heading towards the back.

Matt stays at the front desk, eyeing Dougie suspiciously as he goes back to his magazine, only looking up when Matt’s still there. Still eyeing him.

“What?” he asks, trying to shrug everything that just happened, off. But it isn’t working and Matt isn’t buying Dougie’s nonchalant appeal and when the owner starts grinning the younger man’s way, the blonde slams the magazine close and exits the front desk muttering a, “Going to lunch,” as he exits the store.

&

On Saturday, Matt invites James over to his place so that he could explain what in the world is going on with the store. James smiles when he enters the flat, making himself comfortable on the couch as he sets up his laptop.

From what he explains, everything’s going good, but they’re spending way too much money on comics, the one thing that isn’t making them that much money.

Matt’s sort of torn when James asks him to get rid of the section because, secretly, he’s a comic book fan himself. But he doesn’t say anything, he tells James what the loyal customers buy and James says that they’ll keep ordering those and the next thing Matt knows, he’s canceling the rest of the orders.

Dinner’s ready by then, and although Matt didn’t tell James that they’re having dinner together, the blonde appreciates the gesture nonetheless. It’s microwaveable pizza and neither of them mind that it’s a little too burnt on the bottom and the cheese isn’t melt all the way at the top. The two of them don’t mind because they don’t get to talk too much at the shop.

So they talk, about everything, and when James looks at his watch and sees that it’s 1 am, he smiles Matt’s way and says, “I think I should be going now.”

He gets up from the couch, collects his things, and heads for the door when Matt stops him and says, “It’s late. You should stay.”

James grins and shakes his head before he says, “No sleepovers on the first date.” And he leans in, kisses him, before heading down the hall.

&

On Monday, 7:00, Matt catches a cold and decides to stay in.

8:00 he gets a call from James and he sounds on frantic on the other end when he says, “Matt. Get to the store, and fast.”

&

There’s glass all over the place, the office door is off the hinges, and every single shelf has been turned over. The store’s a complete wreck and Matt’s standing in the middle of all the chaos, hands in his hair as he pulls on the strands violently.

James is standing with a policeman, Harry Judd, who is just trying to get enough information out of him as possible, “If we want to get to the bottom of this.”

Tom’s in the movie section, checking the boxes and making sure that every movie he loves is still there. It’s the scene of the crime and he’s really not supposed to be touching stuff, but they haven’t told him to stop, not yet.

Dougie’s sitting on the front desk counter, eyeing the entire mess when he realizes that he always leaves something in the shop. He leans over and checks the drawer behind the desk before he yells, “Fucking bloody hell!” when he realizes that whomever did this, stole his magazines.

&

It’s half past noon when Danny walks to the shop, eyes wide when he realizes that the window’s busted in. He voices this to everyone in the store, the employees and Harry, and they all just sort of glance back at him as if he's completely lost his mind.

Dougie gives him a shy smile from his spot on the counter and Danny goes over, leaning next to him and asks, “How did all of this happen?”

The blonde shrugs, kicks his legs, and says, “It was like this when I came in this morning. I wonder who could’ve done it.”

Danny shrugs and sighs, continuing to lean against the desk before looking up at Dougie. The blonde’s watching James and Harry talk and when he feels Danny’s gaze on him, he blushes furiously. Danny grins at this and Dougie has to hide his face in his hands.

The brunette laughs, quietly, before he says, “I actually remember some guy coming up to Tom last night when he was closing.”

And before Dougie could ask exactly why Danny was coming around at that time, Tom steps into the conversation and says, “That was Charlie. Remember him Dougs? He used to run this place.”

Harry hears this, turns away form James, and calls Tom over, the blond heading towards him before Dougie could ask exactly why he was listening in on their conversation.

&

The police search the address to Charlie’s home and they’ve got no luck. Everything’s cleared out and they’re pretty sure that they won’t be hearing from him again, unless he’s completely stupid and hasn’t left town yet.

&

Matt’s completely bothered by the situation, the fact that they can’t find Charlie and the fact that the previous owner would break into the shop after willingly giving it up. He voices his opinion on this every night over the phone, and it isn’t until James decides that he’s just going to come over, that Matt relaxes.

James gives the best massages out of anyone Matt’s ever known and he’s completely relaxed, almost forgetting about the shop until James says, “He probably didn’t have a choice. They weren’t making any money, he probably had no clue as to what he was doing.” Matt sort of looks over at his shoulder at him, quietly thanking him for disturbing his peace, and James grins before he says, “Oh sorry.”

The two of them decide that they’re going to watch movies, because that usually calms everyone down. James makes popcorn while Matt decides on Old School because it was either that or A Walk To Remember. They’re halfway through the movie when it reaches 1 am, and both Matt and James know what time it is. The brunette shuffles and moves, so that James can move out his arms (they sort of just fell that way) but he doesn’t budge. He just tugs on Matt’s arms, places them back around him and says,

“I hope it’s not a problem but, I’m staying the night.”

&

James decides that they can afford to fix the window, and they’re going over budget to fix the door, but it needs to happen anyway. They don’t have enough to fix all the movies, comics, and video games that were smashed, and it wasn’t a lot. But some of them were essential to profit.

They suck it up though because a loss sale is better than debt.

&

9.00 pm is the time that the store closes when Dougie has to lock up, due to the fact that the youngest member of the staff has to be home at a certain time. So Dougie places the key in the lock, turns it, makes sure the door is closed before he turns on his heels, about to start his walk home, when he bumps right into Charlie.

At first, he’s startled, but when he sees that it’s just Charlie, he says, “I should call the cops on you, wanker.”

Charlie simply eyes the shorter boy before laughing and saying, “Yeah? You wouldn’t dare.”

The boy smirks and reaches towards his pocket where his mobile sits comfortably, slipping his hand in. Before his fingertips can graze the shell, Charlie’s got a large hand locked around his wrist. He forcefully pulls it out of his pocket and twists it, teeth gritting as he stares at the blonde’s face, construed in pain. He continues to twist and something’s bound to pop when Charlie stumbles, stumbles, and stumbles, all before falling right to the ground.

Dougie places his wrist in his hand and stares at the purple bruise that’s forming; all before staring in shock at Charlie’s completely knocked out form. He thinks it was an act of a higher being, but that’s before he looks to the side and sees Danny standing there, fist balled and eyes wide as he asks, “Are you alright?”

And Dougie doesn’t give him an answer; he just ignores the dull pain in his wrist, grabs the side of Danny’s face, and kisses him, long and hard.

&

Matt’s phone rings while he and James are in the middle of a make out session, laying parallel on his bed, and he contemplates not picking it up, but when someone keeps ringing him, he picks it up in anger and almost falls off the bed entirely when all Tom says is, “The cops are at the store again,” and hangs up.

The two of them, Matt and James, think the worst and when they get there, Matt almost wants to smack Tom in the face for the way he’s sitting comfortably on the hood of his mini, Giovanna at his side, as the couple simply watch the police survey the scene.

Tom looks at the two of them weird, they did show up in the same car, and James just gives him a small smile before he notices that there’s someone in the cops custody.

He’s about to point it out to Matt when Tom says, “It’s Charlie. He tried to break Dougie’s wrist and Danny was here to save him. Punched him clean.”

Charlie overhears this and he sneers at Tom before he looks towards Matt and says, “And I would’ve got away with ruining your little store. My dream! If it wasn’t for those pesky kids!”

And this should’ve been the part when Dougie and Danny had some witty comment about how Charlie was going to have a lot of time to think about his dreams, in jail, but it doesn’t come because the two of them are two busy pressing each other up against the wall of the building and sucking each other’s faces off.

&

It’s six months later when they actually get the chance to replace the merchandise that they lost. And they actually find it a good thing that Charlie decided to rob the store because they got a slew of new customers, asking what happened and if Charlie was some sort of evil mastermind (it was a store, originally, for geeks).

The store’s financial state is better than ever, which means bigger paychecks, which means that Tom can afford the big wedding that Giovanna secretly wants (he proposed to her a couple months ago).

Dougie would be excited about his paycheck as well, if he didn’t have Danny constantly by his side, who promised to be the best boyfriend in the world and, in turn, buys anything that Dougie even sets his eyes on. But it’s a good thing that Danny’s job doesn’t give paychecks for not being work at because Dougie’s certainly does, and since he spends all of his time in the storeroom with Danny, he’s not happy about most of the balances on his paychecks.

And then there’s Matt and James, the happy couple who just watch the chaos in the store, day by day, and simply smile. James constantly asks if Matt wants to open up another store and the brunette just laughs, but then James says, “Seriously. Come on. Coffee shop.”

And Matt stops laughing because he thought James hated coffee.

Comments show serious love :)

Multiple Standalone

Life Alter-ing(22/24)

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 08:53:45 GMT

Title:Life Alter-ing
Author:Me.
Part:22/24
Rating:R, for swear words
Pairing:PoynterJudd, FletcherJones, PoynterRushton
Summary:Dougie's in a loving, committed, relationship with rock star boyfriend Steve Rushton and everything's going well, that is until a Mr. Harry Judd decides to pay his friends a visit.
A/N:Let's pretend that McFly doesn't exist, but Son of Dork still does, and that SOD is wildly popular (say, McFly level popular). ALSO, unlike my previous attempt at a chaptered story, this one is already half way finished, so I will most definitely finish this story.
Disclaimer:Don't own never happened.

The two of us walk back into the room where our party is being held, hand in hand, our ears listening intently to all the restlessness that can be heard from just outside the doors. Our guests our loud and I suspect that it’s because they’re just all utterly confused. I can even hear a cameraman say something about how this is going to be a headline on some talk show and I think, What have I done?. But Steve hears it to and he gives my hand a soft squeeze of reassurance before he asks,

“Are you ready?”

I shake my head, my eyes wide, and that only makes him smile as he squeezes my hand once more, the small gesture actually making me feel a lot of better. I change my mind, and nod, kissing him softly on the cheek before he opens the door that I ran through and immediately, we’re bombarded with camera flashes and….questions? I didn’t know that there were actually reporters at our party, either that or our family and friends are quiet vicious when it comes to wanting to know information. Either way, we say nothing as we push our way through the crowd and back to our table.

We’re both smiling, because being mobbed by the paparazzi is kind of exciting and hilarious at the same time. We grin at each other and it’s then that we realize that we just can’t lead our guests on. We’re going to have to tell them. We’re going to have to break the news. Steve and I are still standing and we sort of give each other nod before he picks up the glass once more and hits it with the side of the fork, demanding the attention of everyone in the room.

It’s sort of daunting, standing up there with all my eyes on me and Steve, and I’m so lucky that he’s much better with words than I am. He can do all the talking.

“Me and Dougie here have come to a mutual agreement that neither of us are ready to be married yet.” And there’s actually gasp out in the audience, I’m sure that came from either my mother or Steve’s. “We’ve decided to take some time off and see what else, and who else is out there.” And then there’s another gasp, coming from the table at our right and I know that, that was my mother. “If we’re really meant to be together than, we will be.”

Everyone in the audience looks completely shocked, some of them just staring at us with their mouths wide, like they can’t believe that we dared to come to such a conclusion. I don’t even bother to look at my mother, or Steve’s, knowing that they’re expression will have a thousand things to say and I don’t think I can handle that. Not right now at least.

Steve turns to me and envelopes me in a hug, a tighter one than the one he gave me outside, and immediately, I hold him just as tight. There’s clapping and I think it’s a little weird. We just announced that the engagements off and people are actually happy about it. I actually start laughing, right in Steve’s ear and against my cheeks I can feel his smile grow. He then shifts a little, lips against my ear as he says,

“Whoever he is, and I hope he makes you as happy as you’ve made me.”

I bite my bottom lip because, how did he know? Why is he not throwing things? I pull away from him, search his eyes for something hidden, some hidden rage that will come back to haunt me. But there’s nothing of the sort. There’s undoubtedly sadness, but that’s to be expected and suddenly, I feel a slight wave of guilt wash over me. So I press my forehead to his and say,

“I hope he makes me as happy as you’ve made me.”

I’m expecting waterworks, for him to be upset that I actually admitted to the fact that there’s someone else. But, I actually get the opposite. He’s smiling like mad and the realization makes me smile as well, before our lips magnetically find each other and we kiss each other, heavily, because this is the last time. There’s more clapping and I can’t help myself from laughing this time either, the kiss being broken by our smiles.

Everyone thinks that we still have a chance and honestly, I don’t know.

I pull away from him, the smile never leave our faces. With one last kiss to the cheek, I sit back down in my chair and ignore the looks that I’m getting from everyone around me, well everyone but Danny that is. I can’t help but look up at my best friend and wonder if he thinks what I’ve done was wise, or foolish. And the way that he’s grinning at me, giving me the thumbs up, I’m thinking that I most definitely did the right thing.

I look towards Tom fro approval as well, after all, he’s the one that’s angry with me, but he’s not even meeting my eyes. He’s looking to the floor and looks a bit unsettled. But I don’t wonder what’s going on with him because all my attention’s towards Steve, who’s still standing.

“So, I guess I should apologize for the fact that no one can present their well though out speeches.” And everyone laughs because, I guess it’s a joke that older people laugh at. I didn’t get it. He waits until the laughter dies down to say, “But there is someone you has a little something he’s like to do.”

He motions, with his hand, towards Tom before he sits down in his chair, all the attention in the room shifting from him to the blonde who seems increasingly nervous. I wasn’t expecting this, knew nothing about this, and I’m eager to find out what exactly is going on.

Tom seems to take a deep breath before he shifts, pushing the chair out and making the legs scratch across the floor. It makes an awful noise, and he winces, but I’m sure he’s the only one who’s fazed, everyone else is mesmerized by what’s going to happen next. There’s no sound, just the occasional cough or clearing of throat as Tom wipes his hands on his thighs and shifts so that he’s kneeling on one knee, right in front of Danny. My breathing, as well as everyone else’s, hitches. Danny’s staring down at his boyfriend with wide eyes, expecting something else other than, well, Tom tying his shoe.

Everyone in the room is completely thrown off, some even roll their eyes, as they start to go back to their business. I start to do the same, fiddling with my silverware when out of the corner of my eye I see Tom shift once more. He reaches in his pocket, pulls out a silver band, and slips it onto Danny’s unexpected finger.

He lets out a loud, “Wha-?! No way!!” this turns all the attention in the room, back to the couple.

He’s staring at the ring in wonder when Tom gets to his feet, brushing off all the invisible dirt from his pants and even his shirt. He grins as he says,

“Daniel David Alan Jones, you’ve made me, Thomas Michael Fletcher, the happiest man in the entire world and I’m asking you to marry me. Now, if you don’t want to marry me, that’s okay because, I’ll still be here in the morning.”

It’s the cheesiest engagement speech that I’ve ever heard, and trust me, I’ve heard many. But if it wasn’t cheesy than it wouldn’t be Tom and that’s what makes it completely romantic and awesome at the same time.

Danny’s grinning like a mad man, but he stills says, “I don’t know what to say,” before looking over at me as if I’m the key to all his answers.

I, playfully, roll my eyes before letting out a, “Say yes you idiot!” which makes the crowd laugh and yes, I get that laughter.

Danny nods before he gets up and embraces Tom in a tight hug, all before pulling away and kissing him like his life depended on it. There’s roaring clapping and I look over at Steve, who’s grinning at the newly engaged couple as well. He looks over at me and smiles before, turning his attention back to them.

And I guess this is it. We gave it a good run, but at least something good came out of it.

<< Previous|Next >>
More soon. Thanks for reading and commenting!Two more parts!

Multiple/Unknown Chaptered