Marilyn Manson: My Fair Lady
Title: My Fair Lady
Author: nein-blut
Beta: m-artsa
Fandom: Marilyn Manson
Pairing: John 5/Ginger Fish
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: John can't sleep, thanks to thunder.
Prompt: #26: Lullaby
A/N: Yeah, I started 50 prompts thingy in 2008 and I hope I'll be able to complete it during 2009. I've three fics written already - this was the first one. I think.
Disclaimer: John's not mine - if he was, he'd be teaching me to play guitar instead of writing this. Ginger's not mine - if he was, he'd be cleaning my room. Guess they're not mine because I can't see them around.
"Ginger?" John's voice sounded like he was afraid of talking. Frightened that talking out loud would wake up something in the darkness.
Obviously the older man was sound asleep - he didn't react at all. There were times John would be amazed at Ginger's ability fall asleep and then not wake up before morning - one night he had been able to fall asleep in a tour bus in which Marilyn and Twiggy were arguing loudly. John himself hadn't slept at all that night. After everyone else was asleep, he was still awake, because he could sense the fight in the air.
A lightning flashed through the sky, followed instantly by lunatic rumbling. The storm had been mangling the area for a while now. To be specific, it had started instantly after Ginger's breathing had become peaceful and slow. That was when John's breathing had become rapid and his hands had become fists. Now his hands were bleeding. And the storm was only coming over them now, it wasn't going to stop soon. It moved slowly like some kind of a monster in the darkness. A lightning illuminated the room, and John thought the darkness itself was afraid of the thunder.
John had bared with the thunder for a while, decided to wait until it would pass, but now that it was going to be right over them, he couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. He was frightened, afraid, panicking, and he remembered how he had had an anxiety attack in school because of thunder when he was seven years old. Because of that he'd been picked at for the rest of his years in that very school.
"Ginger!" John's voice was desperate, and even though he hadn't meant to shout, he let out a frantic cry.
"What?" All of a sudden Ginger was wide awake and trying to reach John.
"I can't sleep." John closed his eyes so he didn't need to see another lightning illuminating the room. He couldn't close his ears, couldn't stop the rumbling he felt in his body. Most of all he closed his eyes so he wouldn't need to see Ginger when he'd tell him why couldn't sleep. Because he was sure Ginger would demand a reason for staying up.
"Why not?" John had been right. Ginger hated to wake up, and it didn't matter who woke him up. Okay, because of John he would be happy to be awake for the next three years, but still. Waking up was a bitch.
"I'm afraid of the thunder." John's voice was tense, and it told Ginger two things. First of all, it was very, very true, and not just a new way of plotting to get Ginger naked under John (those plots Ginger had seen - sometimes John would jump off the bed and shout for help, and then pull Ginger on top of him on the floor, sometimes John would pretend he was having a sex dream and moan and toss until Ginger would wake up, and after "waking" John up he'd need to make the dream true). And second of all, telling he was afraid of the thunder had obviously taken a lot of courage. Even though John was a baby face and a poor thing, he still wanted everyone to think he was fearless.
Ginger moved his hand to his side. "Come on, baby."
He didn't have to tell twice. John was instantly squeezed against him from tip to toe.
Ginger caressed John's back and hair, he let his fingers cling to John's hair. His breathe was warm and tickling on Ginger's chest, and he wasn't pissed off about waking up. Not anymore. It felt all fine to just lay there. John was warm and being close to him perfect.
"Ginger?" John whispered. Ginger could feel how his lips were moving on his chest.
"Yeah? Are you still frightened?"
"Not that much. But... could you sing?"
"Sing?"
"Yeah."
"I can't."
"Please..."
And, as always, John got what he wanted. Ginger sang old nursery rhymes until the slowness of John's breathing told that he was asleep. Outside the thunder was still crazy, it was trying to wake John up. But Ginger decided that he would not let anything or anyone scare his dear John.
Ginger stayed awake until the storm stopped. It was raining slowly outside, agains the dim light of morning he saw water drops slide down the window. In the gray morning light John's pale skin seemed to glow. He looked like a little child, a little angel, that Ginger had borrowed. But he wasn't going to give him back, no.
Ginger kissed John's forehead. He could sleep again, at least for a while.
Author: nein-blut
Beta: m-artsa
Fandom: Marilyn Manson
Pairing: John 5/Ginger Fish
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Slash, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: John can't sleep, thanks to thunder.
Prompt: #26: Lullaby
A/N: Yeah, I started 50 prompts thingy in 2008 and I hope I'll be able to complete it during 2009. I've three fics written already - this was the first one. I think.
Disclaimer: John's not mine - if he was, he'd be teaching me to play guitar instead of writing this. Ginger's not mine - if he was, he'd be cleaning my room. Guess they're not mine because I can't see them around.
"Ginger?" John's voice sounded like he was afraid of talking. Frightened that talking out loud would wake up something in the darkness.
Obviously the older man was sound asleep - he didn't react at all. There were times John would be amazed at Ginger's ability fall asleep and then not wake up before morning - one night he had been able to fall asleep in a tour bus in which Marilyn and Twiggy were arguing loudly. John himself hadn't slept at all that night. After everyone else was asleep, he was still awake, because he could sense the fight in the air.
A lightning flashed through the sky, followed instantly by lunatic rumbling. The storm had been mangling the area for a while now. To be specific, it had started instantly after Ginger's breathing had become peaceful and slow. That was when John's breathing had become rapid and his hands had become fists. Now his hands were bleeding. And the storm was only coming over them now, it wasn't going to stop soon. It moved slowly like some kind of a monster in the darkness. A lightning illuminated the room, and John thought the darkness itself was afraid of the thunder.
John had bared with the thunder for a while, decided to wait until it would pass, but now that it was going to be right over them, he couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't. He was frightened, afraid, panicking, and he remembered how he had had an anxiety attack in school because of thunder when he was seven years old. Because of that he'd been picked at for the rest of his years in that very school.
"Ginger!" John's voice was desperate, and even though he hadn't meant to shout, he let out a frantic cry.
"What?" All of a sudden Ginger was wide awake and trying to reach John.
"I can't sleep." John closed his eyes so he didn't need to see another lightning illuminating the room. He couldn't close his ears, couldn't stop the rumbling he felt in his body. Most of all he closed his eyes so he wouldn't need to see Ginger when he'd tell him why couldn't sleep. Because he was sure Ginger would demand a reason for staying up.
"Why not?" John had been right. Ginger hated to wake up, and it didn't matter who woke him up. Okay, because of John he would be happy to be awake for the next three years, but still. Waking up was a bitch.
"I'm afraid of the thunder." John's voice was tense, and it told Ginger two things. First of all, it was very, very true, and not just a new way of plotting to get Ginger naked under John (those plots Ginger had seen - sometimes John would jump off the bed and shout for help, and then pull Ginger on top of him on the floor, sometimes John would pretend he was having a sex dream and moan and toss until Ginger would wake up, and after "waking" John up he'd need to make the dream true). And second of all, telling he was afraid of the thunder had obviously taken a lot of courage. Even though John was a baby face and a poor thing, he still wanted everyone to think he was fearless.
Ginger moved his hand to his side. "Come on, baby."
He didn't have to tell twice. John was instantly squeezed against him from tip to toe.
Ginger caressed John's back and hair, he let his fingers cling to John's hair. His breathe was warm and tickling on Ginger's chest, and he wasn't pissed off about waking up. Not anymore. It felt all fine to just lay there. John was warm and being close to him perfect.
"Ginger?" John whispered. Ginger could feel how his lips were moving on his chest.
"Yeah? Are you still frightened?"
"Not that much. But... could you sing?"
"Sing?"
"Yeah."
"I can't."
"Please..."
And, as always, John got what he wanted. Ginger sang old nursery rhymes until the slowness of John's breathing told that he was asleep. Outside the thunder was still crazy, it was trying to wake John up. But Ginger decided that he would not let anything or anyone scare his dear John.
Ginger stayed awake until the storm stopped. It was raining slowly outside, agains the dim light of morning he saw water drops slide down the window. In the gray morning light John's pale skin seemed to glow. He looked like a little child, a little angel, that Ginger had borrowed. But he wasn't going to give him back, no.
Ginger kissed John's forehead. He could sleep again, at least for a while.