fic: awtsbams for dirtyreflection!
Title: And With This Silence Brings A Moral Story
Author: rocknrollchick4
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: we all know these two are completely married, but I'm obligated to say they're not. It's fanFICTION!
Summary: Chris says he'll call. Blake counts the days.
Author's Note: written for dirtyreflection! It's been awhile since I've written, so I really hope that this isn't horrible. :-/ also, songfics are HARD, man! I had never realized that! Well, dirtyreflection, I hope you enjoy, and I hope everyone else does too! ♥∞!
inspired in particular by this verse:
And it's okay if you have go away
Oh just remember the telephone works both ways
And if I never ever hear them ring
If nothing else I'll think the bells inside
Have finally found you someone else and that's okay
Cause I'll remember everything you sang
full lyrics here
“So... I guess I'll see you around?” Blake awkwardly shuffled his feet on the tiled floor of the airport terminal.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Chris replied, not meeting his eyes.
“Call me when you get to Nashville, okay?”
“Yeah, I will,” Chris said over the announcement of his flight.
The men stared at each other before embracing.
“You're gonna knock 'em dead with your songs Chris,” Blake mumbled into his shoulder.
“You too, B, you too.”
**
Blake heaved a sigh as he slouched back into the seat of the town car. Another day, another interview, another photoshoot, another recording. He pulled his Sidekick from his pocket, checking his messages and then scrolling through old text messages, deleting the pointless ones. He happened to come across and old one from the tour:
9/15/07 10:31 AM
From C-rich
yo dude wake up! We gotta go in an hour!
A month and a half ago. Forty-three days to be exact. Forty-three days since Blake had bid Chris goodbye in that airport and forty-three days since he had heard from him. One thousand and thirty two hours. Sixty one thousand nine hundred and twenty minutes.
Blake didn't know how much longer he was going to last.
It wasn't that Chris hadn't called him. Well, it was, but part of Blake knew that the other man had a lot on his plate right now, writing songs and making his album and doing all of the other things that came along with the fame American Idol had brought them. Blake was going through the same thing. Hell, all of them were.
But Phil still emailed him every week. Gina called every couple of days. So did Jordin. Haley left comments on his MySpace. He had spoken to Sligh and Lakisha and Melinda and even Sanjaya a few times since the tour had ended.
Yet he hadn't spoken to Chris, his best friend, his brother from another mother, in forty-three days. Not one call, not one email, not one MySpace comment.
And finally, Blake decided to take the initiative.
11/5/07 3:37 PM
To C-rich
yo dude, where u been? Nashville must be pretty rockin' 2 make u forget about bshorty.
Blake paused for a moment, furrowing his brow in thought. Then he added:
i miss u.
And before he could think twice, he pressed send.
**
Sixty-seven days. Not that Blake was counting, anyways. But it had been sixty-seven days.
And finally, finally, Blake had come to a conclusion.
He was in love with Chris Richardson.
He had thought of every other excuse in the book. But there was no other way to explain the way he instantly smiled when he happened to see Chris on a talk show or in a magazine, no other way to explain the ache in his chest when Phil mentioned him in an email, no other way to explain why Gina had found him crying himself to sleep the day he read that rumor about Chris and that skanky redheaded country singer in Us Weekly.
“Oh, baby,” Gina had said softly, stroking his hair. “You've got it bad.”
**
Seventy days and Blake had come to another conclusion.
He was happy for Chris and that skanky redheaded country singer.
Because if he faced that facts, Blake knew there was no way, not a chance in the world, that he and Chris would ever work like that.
So Chris had found someone else. Blake was okay with that. At least, he would be. Eventually. He had to be.
And in reality, he really wanted nothing more than just for Chris to be happy. If this is what made him happy, good for him.
Being with Chris had really only ever been a pipe dream anyways.
**
Eighty-one days and Blake's cell phone rang, startling him into falling off of his couch.
“Jesus, Gina,” he answered.
“Aw, I'm fine Blake, thanks for asking! How are you?”
“Ha ha.”
“You're in L.A. next week, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“So is almost everyone else. Don't make plans for Wednesday night, you're all coming to our apartment.”
“Well, I already-”
“Nope, don't want to hear it,” Gina sang.
“Okay, okay,” Blake laughed. “I'll be there.”
“Good. I can't wait to see you. It's been too long.”
“Same here. I'm countin' down the hours, G!”
“You would do that. Bye, Blake.”
“Love you too!”
As he hit the End button, Blake couldn't help but wonder if “almost everyone” included Chris.
**
“Alright, Bshorty is here, the party can start!” Blake hollered as he barreled through the door of Gina and Joe's apartment.
“You always gotta make and entrance, don't you, Blake,” Phil smiled, standing up to embrace the younger man.
“Always, Philip, always,” Blake laughed. “And I see you've brought the lovely Mrs. Stacey with you tonight!” he exclaimed as Kendra stood, shaking her head and smiling.
“Oh, Blake,” she giggled, leaning in to hug him. She shrieked like a teenager when Blake picked her up and spun her around.
“Blake Lewis, stop harassing my guests!” Gina yelled, racing across the room and tackling him onto the couch.
“Oh my God, someone call the cops, there's a rabid Gina Glocksen in my lap!” Blake cried.
“You don't call the police for rabid animals, douchebag,” Gina informed him, choosing to ignore his insult.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should just call your fiancée and tell him you're sexually harassing me. Hey Joe!”
Gina smacked him lightly. “You are a loser, Blake Lewis!” she laughed.
“Thanks Gina, I think you're cool too!” Blake flashed her an overly-bright smile and a thumbs up. “Now please get off my lap!” Gina gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before obliging, leading Blake to make a face and stick his tongue out at her. He got up and made the rounds, picking Sanjaya up and tossing him over his shoulder, leaving Jordin in fits of laughter, getting down on one knee to kiss Melinda's hand, and dancing a quick tango with Haley and shaking hands with Bobby. Lakisha was missing because of her daughters school play, and Sligh had some commitment back home. Chris... well, Blake didn't ask about Chris. He was scared of what might be the answer.
“G, where do you keep the beer in this place?”
“Do you ever think about anything but getting wasted? In the kitchen!”
“I think about plenty of other things,” Blake called over his shoulder indignantly. “Like-” he stopped abruptly.
There, in front of him, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator, was Chris Richardson.
“Hey, B! What's up?” Chris asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.
And Blake couldn't help but think eighty-seven days and all I get is a “Hey, what's up”?
He quickly shook it off and grinned. “C-Rich, my main man, what's the haps?”
They shared a short, utterly platonic and manly hug.
“Jesus, it's been way to long,” Chris was still smiling.
Not my fault, Blake thought.
“I know, man! Come on, grab me a beer, come tell me about Nashville!”
**
Eighty-seven days and six hours later and Blake and Chris were the only two left at Gina and Joe's apartment, both a little more than tipsy and having long overstayed their welcome.
“Alright, you two,” Gina shoved their feet off the coffee table. “I don't care where you go, just get out. Joe and I want to go to bed.” Both Blake and Chris burst out in drunken giggling. “Oh my god, you guys really are twelve.”
“Giiinaaaa,” Blake whined.
“Phil and Kendra left two hours ago! Why couldn't you have gone with them?”
Chris wrapped his arms around Gina's waist and pulled her down. “We just love you and Joe and your apartment-”
“And your free beer,” Blake interjected.
“-soooooo much. We couldn't just leave.”
Shaking her head and rolling her eyes in a mixture of amusement and frustration, Gina wriggled out of Chris's grasp and grabbed both he and Blake by the wrist.
“Go get a hotel room together or something,” she suggested, yanking open the door. “Goodnight.”
And then they were alone, in a hallway, outside of Gina's apartment.
**
Eighty six days and seven and a half hours later, Blake and Chris had checked into a hotel less than five blocks away from Gina's apartment.
After trying a failing to shove the keycard in the slot three times, Chris grabbed it from Blake and got the door open in two tries.
“Man,” Chris sighed, falling back onto the bed (as he fell back next to Chris, Blake vaguely wondered how they had ended up with one bed instead of two). “That was so much fun. I haven't seen anyone in forever.”
There was a silence.
“Maybe if you had called once in awhile...” Blake said, voice barely above a whisper.
Another silence.
“Blake?” Chris turned to him. “I'm sorry for not calling.”
“It's okay.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn't you call?”
Chris just shrugged.
They laid in silence for what could have been three minutes or an eternity.
“Blake?”
“Mmm?”
“That's a lie.”
“What's a lie?”
“I know why I didn't call.”
Blake waited.
“...I was scared.”
“Scared?” Blake turned and propped himself on his elbow so he could look at Chris. “Of what?”
“I dunno, lot's of things. That when you made your album you'd forget about me. That when you got home to all your old friends you'd realize you never liked me anyway. That you'd never call me. That you wouldn't want to talk to me. But mostly I was scared of how scared that all made me. Because fuck, Blake, I shouldn't be that scared. I shouldn't be scared that I'll never hear your laugh again. I shouldn't be scared that I'll never see that adorable face you make when you're concentrating again. I'm scared because you're my best friend and I shouldn't think you're adorable. And I probably shouldn't be saying this right now because you're drunk and I'm drunk and we're probably not going to remember this at all in the morning but fuck, I thought of you every single day.”
Blake's mouth hung open in shock.
And then he kissed Chris.
“Shit, Chris, I thought of you every day too, every minute of every day. Everything reminded me of you. I just missed you so fucking much.”
“Shit,” Chris muttered, before leaning up to kiss Blake again. He rolled over and pinned the smaller man to the bed, prodding at his lips with his tongue. Blake obliged more than willingly, allowing Chris to search and memorize every crevice of his mouth.
“But, wait,” Blake broke away breathlessly. “What about that country singer chick...?”
“Jesus, Blake, you actually read Us Weekly?” Chris chuckled before once again covering Blake's mouth with his.
And yeah, Blake guessed that really was just a rumor.
**
Eighty eight days and Blake woke up in a hotel room in L.A., wrapped in his best friend's... his boyfriend's arms.
And though they both had pounding headaches and would be content to never move ever again, ever, they both remembered every single moment and every single word of the previous night.
Author: rocknrollchick4
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: we all know these two are completely married, but I'm obligated to say they're not. It's fanFICTION!
Summary: Chris says he'll call. Blake counts the days.
Author's Note: written for dirtyreflection! It's been awhile since I've written, so I really hope that this isn't horrible. :-/ also, songfics are HARD, man! I had never realized that! Well, dirtyreflection, I hope you enjoy, and I hope everyone else does too! ♥∞!
inspired in particular by this verse:
And it's okay if you have go away
Oh just remember the telephone works both ways
And if I never ever hear them ring
If nothing else I'll think the bells inside
Have finally found you someone else and that's okay
Cause I'll remember everything you sang
full lyrics here
“So... I guess I'll see you around?” Blake awkwardly shuffled his feet on the tiled floor of the airport terminal.
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Chris replied, not meeting his eyes.
“Call me when you get to Nashville, okay?”
“Yeah, I will,” Chris said over the announcement of his flight.
The men stared at each other before embracing.
“You're gonna knock 'em dead with your songs Chris,” Blake mumbled into his shoulder.
“You too, B, you too.”
**
Blake heaved a sigh as he slouched back into the seat of the town car. Another day, another interview, another photoshoot, another recording. He pulled his Sidekick from his pocket, checking his messages and then scrolling through old text messages, deleting the pointless ones. He happened to come across and old one from the tour:
9/15/07 10:31 AM
From C-rich
yo dude wake up! We gotta go in an hour!
A month and a half ago. Forty-three days to be exact. Forty-three days since Blake had bid Chris goodbye in that airport and forty-three days since he had heard from him. One thousand and thirty two hours. Sixty one thousand nine hundred and twenty minutes.
Blake didn't know how much longer he was going to last.
It wasn't that Chris hadn't called him. Well, it was, but part of Blake knew that the other man had a lot on his plate right now, writing songs and making his album and doing all of the other things that came along with the fame American Idol had brought them. Blake was going through the same thing. Hell, all of them were.
But Phil still emailed him every week. Gina called every couple of days. So did Jordin. Haley left comments on his MySpace. He had spoken to Sligh and Lakisha and Melinda and even Sanjaya a few times since the tour had ended.
Yet he hadn't spoken to Chris, his best friend, his brother from another mother, in forty-three days. Not one call, not one email, not one MySpace comment.
And finally, Blake decided to take the initiative.
11/5/07 3:37 PM
To C-rich
yo dude, where u been? Nashville must be pretty rockin' 2 make u forget about bshorty.
Blake paused for a moment, furrowing his brow in thought. Then he added:
i miss u.
And before he could think twice, he pressed send.
**
Sixty-seven days. Not that Blake was counting, anyways. But it had been sixty-seven days.
And finally, finally, Blake had come to a conclusion.
He was in love with Chris Richardson.
He had thought of every other excuse in the book. But there was no other way to explain the way he instantly smiled when he happened to see Chris on a talk show or in a magazine, no other way to explain the ache in his chest when Phil mentioned him in an email, no other way to explain why Gina had found him crying himself to sleep the day he read that rumor about Chris and that skanky redheaded country singer in Us Weekly.
“Oh, baby,” Gina had said softly, stroking his hair. “You've got it bad.”
**
Seventy days and Blake had come to another conclusion.
He was happy for Chris and that skanky redheaded country singer.
Because if he faced that facts, Blake knew there was no way, not a chance in the world, that he and Chris would ever work like that.
So Chris had found someone else. Blake was okay with that. At least, he would be. Eventually. He had to be.
And in reality, he really wanted nothing more than just for Chris to be happy. If this is what made him happy, good for him.
Being with Chris had really only ever been a pipe dream anyways.
**
Eighty-one days and Blake's cell phone rang, startling him into falling off of his couch.
“Jesus, Gina,” he answered.
“Aw, I'm fine Blake, thanks for asking! How are you?”
“Ha ha.”
“You're in L.A. next week, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“So is almost everyone else. Don't make plans for Wednesday night, you're all coming to our apartment.”
“Well, I already-”
“Nope, don't want to hear it,” Gina sang.
“Okay, okay,” Blake laughed. “I'll be there.”
“Good. I can't wait to see you. It's been too long.”
“Same here. I'm countin' down the hours, G!”
“You would do that. Bye, Blake.”
“Love you too!”
As he hit the End button, Blake couldn't help but wonder if “almost everyone” included Chris.
**
“Alright, Bshorty is here, the party can start!” Blake hollered as he barreled through the door of Gina and Joe's apartment.
“You always gotta make and entrance, don't you, Blake,” Phil smiled, standing up to embrace the younger man.
“Always, Philip, always,” Blake laughed. “And I see you've brought the lovely Mrs. Stacey with you tonight!” he exclaimed as Kendra stood, shaking her head and smiling.
“Oh, Blake,” she giggled, leaning in to hug him. She shrieked like a teenager when Blake picked her up and spun her around.
“Blake Lewis, stop harassing my guests!” Gina yelled, racing across the room and tackling him onto the couch.
“Oh my God, someone call the cops, there's a rabid Gina Glocksen in my lap!” Blake cried.
“You don't call the police for rabid animals, douchebag,” Gina informed him, choosing to ignore his insult.
“Oh yeah? Maybe I should just call your fiancée and tell him you're sexually harassing me. Hey Joe!”
Gina smacked him lightly. “You are a loser, Blake Lewis!” she laughed.
“Thanks Gina, I think you're cool too!” Blake flashed her an overly-bright smile and a thumbs up. “Now please get off my lap!” Gina gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before obliging, leading Blake to make a face and stick his tongue out at her. He got up and made the rounds, picking Sanjaya up and tossing him over his shoulder, leaving Jordin in fits of laughter, getting down on one knee to kiss Melinda's hand, and dancing a quick tango with Haley and shaking hands with Bobby. Lakisha was missing because of her daughters school play, and Sligh had some commitment back home. Chris... well, Blake didn't ask about Chris. He was scared of what might be the answer.
“G, where do you keep the beer in this place?”
“Do you ever think about anything but getting wasted? In the kitchen!”
“I think about plenty of other things,” Blake called over his shoulder indignantly. “Like-” he stopped abruptly.
There, in front of him, pulling a beer out of the refrigerator, was Chris Richardson.
“Hey, B! What's up?” Chris asked, a wide smile spreading across his face.
And Blake couldn't help but think eighty-seven days and all I get is a “Hey, what's up”?
He quickly shook it off and grinned. “C-Rich, my main man, what's the haps?”
They shared a short, utterly platonic and manly hug.
“Jesus, it's been way to long,” Chris was still smiling.
Not my fault, Blake thought.
“I know, man! Come on, grab me a beer, come tell me about Nashville!”
**
Eighty-seven days and six hours later and Blake and Chris were the only two left at Gina and Joe's apartment, both a little more than tipsy and having long overstayed their welcome.
“Alright, you two,” Gina shoved their feet off the coffee table. “I don't care where you go, just get out. Joe and I want to go to bed.” Both Blake and Chris burst out in drunken giggling. “Oh my god, you guys really are twelve.”
“Giiinaaaa,” Blake whined.
“Phil and Kendra left two hours ago! Why couldn't you have gone with them?”
Chris wrapped his arms around Gina's waist and pulled her down. “We just love you and Joe and your apartment-”
“And your free beer,” Blake interjected.
“-soooooo much. We couldn't just leave.”
Shaking her head and rolling her eyes in a mixture of amusement and frustration, Gina wriggled out of Chris's grasp and grabbed both he and Blake by the wrist.
“Go get a hotel room together or something,” she suggested, yanking open the door. “Goodnight.”
And then they were alone, in a hallway, outside of Gina's apartment.
**
Eighty six days and seven and a half hours later, Blake and Chris had checked into a hotel less than five blocks away from Gina's apartment.
After trying a failing to shove the keycard in the slot three times, Chris grabbed it from Blake and got the door open in two tries.
“Man,” Chris sighed, falling back onto the bed (as he fell back next to Chris, Blake vaguely wondered how they had ended up with one bed instead of two). “That was so much fun. I haven't seen anyone in forever.”
There was a silence.
“Maybe if you had called once in awhile...” Blake said, voice barely above a whisper.
Another silence.
“Blake?” Chris turned to him. “I'm sorry for not calling.”
“It's okay.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn't you call?”
Chris just shrugged.
They laid in silence for what could have been three minutes or an eternity.
“Blake?”
“Mmm?”
“That's a lie.”
“What's a lie?”
“I know why I didn't call.”
Blake waited.
“...I was scared.”
“Scared?” Blake turned and propped himself on his elbow so he could look at Chris. “Of what?”
“I dunno, lot's of things. That when you made your album you'd forget about me. That when you got home to all your old friends you'd realize you never liked me anyway. That you'd never call me. That you wouldn't want to talk to me. But mostly I was scared of how scared that all made me. Because fuck, Blake, I shouldn't be that scared. I shouldn't be scared that I'll never hear your laugh again. I shouldn't be scared that I'll never see that adorable face you make when you're concentrating again. I'm scared because you're my best friend and I shouldn't think you're adorable. And I probably shouldn't be saying this right now because you're drunk and I'm drunk and we're probably not going to remember this at all in the morning but fuck, I thought of you every single day.”
Blake's mouth hung open in shock.
And then he kissed Chris.
“Shit, Chris, I thought of you every day too, every minute of every day. Everything reminded me of you. I just missed you so fucking much.”
“Shit,” Chris muttered, before leaning up to kiss Blake again. He rolled over and pinned the smaller man to the bed, prodding at his lips with his tongue. Blake obliged more than willingly, allowing Chris to search and memorize every crevice of his mouth.
“But, wait,” Blake broke away breathlessly. “What about that country singer chick...?”
“Jesus, Blake, you actually read Us Weekly?” Chris chuckled before once again covering Blake's mouth with his.
And yeah, Blake guessed that really was just a rumor.
**
Eighty eight days and Blake woke up in a hotel room in L.A., wrapped in his best friend's... his boyfriend's arms.
And though they both had pounding headaches and would be content to never move ever again, ever, they both remembered every single moment and every single word of the previous night.