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fellowshippers2004-02-07 08:13 pm
perfect-oasis.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-02-07 08:13 pm
Reincarnation and Postage Stamps, Part 1/9
Title: Reincarnation and Postage Stamps, Part 1/9
Author: The Phantom Writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Pleasepleaseplease?
Disclaimer: Meh. Damn. Don't own 'em.
Notes: Wow. I'm finally posting this story! I've been slaving over this story for almost a month. It's not that long, but... it feels like forever! I've written a few other ficlets, but... This is the story that I've been obsessing over! Hmm.
Yay, thank you toairlia_vega for putting up with my obsession and all the edits I made! I sent this story to her, oh... prob'ly... well... each part at least once, then the entire thing about... 3 or 4 times. Yesh. Quite obsessed.
This story is angst, with little bits o' fluff floating around in there!
Oh, and, not to worry, almost all of the other parts are much longer than this one!
Enjoy!
Part I
Dom hated secrets. They’re like war; all they can do is cause pain and unnecessary suffering. In middle school, he despised hearing his ‘friends’ whispering behind his back, only to later hear through the grapevine that they’d come up with three new inappropriate nicknames for his own bulbous nose. Even though they were only words, they hurt. And when he attempted to nonchalantly reply with the ‘sticks and stones’ schpeal, some of the crueler kids showed him that sticks, stones and brass knuckles really do break bones. The Monaghans moved as soon as Dominic was signed out of the hospital, leaving Berlin, bad memories, and sticks and stones behind them.
Dom learned at a young age that secrets only hurt. Then why, sixteen years after his first broken bone, was he keeping a secret, the mother load of all secrets, from the one he cared about most? Because, he told himself, these kinds of secrets weren’t nose nicknames or ego-bruisers. This secret was a gasp-for-breath, spirit-crushing, life-altering, let-me-die-now secret. The kind where you tell yourself: ‘I haven’t told him yet because I want him to be truly happy and carefree for at least another day.’
Surprised by the sullen look his mirror-image was sending, Dominic sighed in defeat. He couldn’t wait much longer. He had to tell Billy.
Author: The Phantom Writer
silentnumbsmokePairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-13
Feedback: Pleasepleaseplease?
Disclaimer: Meh. Damn. Don't own 'em.
Notes: Wow. I'm finally posting this story! I've been slaving over this story for almost a month. It's not that long, but... it feels like forever! I've written a few other ficlets, but... This is the story that I've been obsessing over! Hmm.
Yay, thank you to
airlia_vega for putting up with my obsession and all the edits I made! I sent this story to her, oh... prob'ly... well... each part at least once, then the entire thing about... 3 or 4 times. Yesh. Quite obsessed.This story is angst, with little bits o' fluff floating around in there!
Oh, and, not to worry, almost all of the other parts are much longer than this one!
Enjoy!
Part I
Dom hated secrets. They’re like war; all they can do is cause pain and unnecessary suffering. In middle school, he despised hearing his ‘friends’ whispering behind his back, only to later hear through the grapevine that they’d come up with three new inappropriate nicknames for his own bulbous nose. Even though they were only words, they hurt. And when he attempted to nonchalantly reply with the ‘sticks and stones’ schpeal, some of the crueler kids showed him that sticks, stones and brass knuckles really do break bones. The Monaghans moved as soon as Dominic was signed out of the hospital, leaving Berlin, bad memories, and sticks and stones behind them.
Dom learned at a young age that secrets only hurt. Then why, sixteen years after his first broken bone, was he keeping a secret, the mother load of all secrets, from the one he cared about most? Because, he told himself, these kinds of secrets weren’t nose nicknames or ego-bruisers. This secret was a gasp-for-breath, spirit-crushing, life-altering, let-me-die-now secret. The kind where you tell yourself: ‘I haven’t told him yet because I want him to be truly happy and carefree for at least another day.’
Surprised by the sullen look his mirror-image was sending, Dominic sighed in defeat. He couldn’t wait much longer. He had to tell Billy.