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thisisheaven.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-02-05 01:00 am
thisisheaven.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-05 01:00 am
Fic: BB/DM
Title: "If you love enough, you'll lie a lot." (1/?)
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: eventually NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, wish I did. If this actually was true, we wouldn't be writing about it, the papers would.
Summary: Trouble in paradise. (HATES summaries)
AN: In a fit of depression I thought I'd start an angsty fic dedicated to the reason I even know what slash is...my roommate, favorite drunk of all time, lover of all that is angsty...my p-resh.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pre_expansion
You knew when he walked out the door that day he wasn't coming back. It was a Monday and you remember thinking that whoever said more suicides occurred on Mondays may be the only person who knew how you felt. You watched the door slam, heard the car skid out of the driveway, and just knew deep in your gut he wasn’t going to turn around and walk through it ever again.
But you told him to go. First with the subtle, less painful hints, acting like you were some kind of adolescent girl going through PMS mood swings. This would lead to fighting of course, and then afterwards, you would lie wrapped in his arms at night thinking you were some kind of coward because rather than pushing him away you pulled him closer and that really wasn’t what you were trying to do...really.
And then there was the fight, the painful knowledge that deep down, you weren't right for him. Just why the hell he hadn't figured it out yet you don't know. He usually knows these things before you do.
So you said, "Maybe this wasn't meant to be, and maybe if you walk away now you can find some really nice girl and settle down with her. I mean, you know, this whole bloke thing isn't really for you."
He stared at you, as if you had just called Orlando, asked to borrow his bow and arrow, and then shot him through the heart, twice. No, staring wasn’t an adequate description, his eyes were throwing daggers at you. Words are easily deflected, you can fight back or pretend not to hear them, but when you’re under his intense green gaze, how can you hide when you can't look away, especially from those eyes. Eyes that once showed you that the color of the truest emerald really could be liquefied and turned into an eye color, one you fell into every night. Now they were rapidly becoming dark and misty, near-black replacing green, as he hid his heart from you.
"Hey Dommie, you know what this means?"
"Ummm...Bills, sorry, but I'm not proposing anytime soon."
"No you wanker, after we get a cuddly little puppy named Twinkles, THEN you're supposed to propose, right now you're just supposed to kiss me."
"Oh, why is that again?"
"Because I made real coffee and a real breakfast in your pitiful excuse of a kitchen and brought it to you IN BED and I should get something in return."
"Will you look at that? You know even blokes would like to get nice things without having to put out for them."
"DOMMIE! You are such..."
And then you kissed him, passionate, loving, and distracting, your specialty. And he moaned something about you tasting like sweet syrup as you pulled him on top of you.
Now the memory makes you cry. Great, now you can’t even get a good wet dream, you have to cry at the same time. Damn Billy for ruining all forms of sex by giving you the best and then taking it all away. No, he didn’t take it away, you made him leave. But hey, it’s all in the wording, right? He’s gone, and that’s all that matters.
AN: Song line credit: Tori Amos, Jackie's Strength
Because my biggest link to the slash world is also the person I'm writing this for, I don't have a beta. I posted this hoping someone would decide they wanted to rip it apart. PLEASE HELP!
Pairing: Monaboyd
Rating: eventually NC-17
Disclaimer: Don't know 'em, wish I did. If this actually was true, we wouldn't be writing about it, the papers would.
Summary: Trouble in paradise. (HATES summaries)
AN: In a fit of depression I thought I'd start an angsty fic dedicated to the reason I even know what slash is...my roommate, favorite drunk of all time, lover of all that is angsty...my p-resh.
pre_expansion You knew when he walked out the door that day he wasn't coming back. It was a Monday and you remember thinking that whoever said more suicides occurred on Mondays may be the only person who knew how you felt. You watched the door slam, heard the car skid out of the driveway, and just knew deep in your gut he wasn’t going to turn around and walk through it ever again.
But you told him to go. First with the subtle, less painful hints, acting like you were some kind of adolescent girl going through PMS mood swings. This would lead to fighting of course, and then afterwards, you would lie wrapped in his arms at night thinking you were some kind of coward because rather than pushing him away you pulled him closer and that really wasn’t what you were trying to do...really.
And then there was the fight, the painful knowledge that deep down, you weren't right for him. Just why the hell he hadn't figured it out yet you don't know. He usually knows these things before you do.
So you said, "Maybe this wasn't meant to be, and maybe if you walk away now you can find some really nice girl and settle down with her. I mean, you know, this whole bloke thing isn't really for you."
He stared at you, as if you had just called Orlando, asked to borrow his bow and arrow, and then shot him through the heart, twice. No, staring wasn’t an adequate description, his eyes were throwing daggers at you. Words are easily deflected, you can fight back or pretend not to hear them, but when you’re under his intense green gaze, how can you hide when you can't look away, especially from those eyes. Eyes that once showed you that the color of the truest emerald really could be liquefied and turned into an eye color, one you fell into every night. Now they were rapidly becoming dark and misty, near-black replacing green, as he hid his heart from you.
"Hey Dommie, you know what this means?"
"Ummm...Bills, sorry, but I'm not proposing anytime soon."
"No you wanker, after we get a cuddly little puppy named Twinkles, THEN you're supposed to propose, right now you're just supposed to kiss me."
"Oh, why is that again?"
"Because I made real coffee and a real breakfast in your pitiful excuse of a kitchen and brought it to you IN BED and I should get something in return."
"Will you look at that? You know even blokes would like to get nice things without having to put out for them."
"DOMMIE! You are such..."
And then you kissed him, passionate, loving, and distracting, your specialty. And he moaned something about you tasting like sweet syrup as you pulled him on top of you.
Now the memory makes you cry. Great, now you can’t even get a good wet dream, you have to cry at the same time. Damn Billy for ruining all forms of sex by giving you the best and then taking it all away. No, he didn’t take it away, you made him leave. But hey, it’s all in the wording, right? He’s gone, and that’s all that matters.
AN: Song line credit: Tori Amos, Jackie's Strength
Because my biggest link to the slash world is also the person I'm writing this for, I don't have a beta. I posted this hoping someone would decide they wanted to rip it apart. PLEASE HELP!