fictional storytime : "Just Friends"
So i heard that the great fictional story exchange movment was happening. I thought I would jump on the bandwagon and write a story. By the way, i've been watching a lot of Simple Life lately... that might explain some of the peculiarity.
Title: Just Friends
Rating: pg-13? perhaps R for suggestive themes.
Summary: Blake Lewis/Chris Richardson featuring a Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie showdown!
Disclaimer: This story is 100% true and happened yesterday. I was there to report. [ if you believe this, you have retardia ].
read it betch <3
By the way -- I'm the first person to call Chris Richardson a "ninja turtle". So suck it! :]
“This is going to be so hot.” Exclaimed Chris, putting on his Pacsun hoodie.
“Isn’t it though? I heard the urinals there are made of gold.”
Blake loved gold. He was so fascinated by shiny things. His favorite drink was Goldschlager just because of the gold in it. He just loved to watch the sparkly gold flakes swirl around inside the bottle. In fact, when he and Chris stayed in on some nights during American Idol drinking Goldschlager, Blake would absolutely refuse taking a shot unless there was gold in the glass. Just about anything shiny tickled his fancy- well, never like the way Chris tickled his fancy, but sparkles still tickled his fancy rather well. Like the sparkling letters of the “Rich Bitch” shirt he was going to buy for himself. It was more of a joke for Chris, so that one night he could come out of the bathroom wearing only the t-shirt and a pair of socks. Which would of course be followed by him pouncing on an instantly aroused Chris, straddling him, biting his neck, and asking if he loved it.
But more on that later... The important thing is that Blake and Chris were on their way to the hottest club in Hollywood. VIP access only - no paps inside. They were thrilled. The paparazzi had been so worked up about their relationship of late, so it was difficult for them to have some fun. But tonight was their night.
“Uh… Blake?” Chris said as Blake met him out in the hall.
“mHmm?” Blake tried to ask what was wrong, but it was particularly difficult to do that with a mobile device in one hand, car keys to his Mustang in the other, backpack on his arm, shades on the collar of his shirt, one untied shoe, and the key card to their hotel in his mouth.
“We’re not going to the fucking round up rodeo, you know.”
“Yeah…”
“Why do you have all that shit?”
“It’s best to be prepared, ya?”
“I have condoms.”
“Oh.”
Five minutes later came back out of their hotel bearing only the more necessary items.
“No, Blake.”
“What now?”
“I know you love your Mustang, but put your keys back.”
“But Chrissssss…. Whyyyy?”
“Because we’re both going to be shit faced drunk, and we’re not spending the night there.”
“Ohhh Chris…. Pleeaaasee? I’ll do…” Blake wrapped his arms around Chris’ bold shoulders, gazing into his eyes. “…anything.”
“First of all, you definitely won’t be able to limit yourself, and second, you’d do anything for me anyways.”
“I’d do anything to you.” Blake giggled. Chris showed his beautiful teeth.
“Besides, don’t you remember what happened when Brandon and I left that one club, completely plastered? Brandon died! And I was hospitalized for days!” Chris said dramatically.
“You spend way to much time on live journal reading all them hot stories about us.”
“Hey… I’m just trying to get inspiration on new places and/or ways that we can…”
Chris looked up and down the hallway, to find they were alone, before looking humorously back into Blake’s deep eyes, “… Foooooooook!”
Blake burst into a fit of laughter while playfully covering his hand over Chris mouth. He slowly let his hand drop, replacing it with his lips, and unconsciously lifting one leg. Chris deepened the kiss, sliding his arms around Blake’s back. Their worlds became one, spinning around them. They were the only two stars left in the sky. All they needed was each other, and that’s exactly what they had.
Blake pulled away and Chris regained his balance.
“And I love you for it!” Blake proclaimed, sliding the key card to unlock their hotel room again, “Now call a cab, you ninja turtle.”
An hour later they got through all the paparazzi outside, and entered the club, happy to see no reporters inside. They also loved that nobody inside the club approached them. The privacy was nice until suddenly, two girls entered the club: Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie.
“Oh God…” Blake whispered to Chris.
Paris and Nicole, being incredibly sexy as usual and scoping the men, laid their eyes on some cake. Paris was checking out Chris Richardson first, who she noticed in the media of late. Then she turned her eyes to Blake Lewis. Scowling, she approached them.
“So Blake,” Paris boldly interrupted anything that Chris was saying, and didn’t introduce herself, “I heard you were saying some stuff about me.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Blake replied smugly.
“Oh I don’t know. Some shit like you’d rather date some skanky hoes and not me. Was it Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears?”
“Oh yeah.” Blake kept his cool. Chris, sensing a fight, backed away, leaning on a bar counter, enjoying the show. Nicole, being used to the spews that Paris had, went to join Chris, introducing herself.
“Uh, Yeah! That definitely doesn’t make sense seeing as those sluts will never be as hot as me.” Paris said, flipping her hair back in a casual and hot way.
“Yep, Paris. You’re right.”
“Don’t use that sarcastic tone with me, bitch!”
“You’re the bitch.”
“No, you’re the bitch!”
“Whatever bitch.”
“You’re such a bitch!”
“Are you done bitch?”
“Not until I smoke your ass bitch.”
“Just try it bitch!”
“Bitch, don’t make me get the Vaseline and straight razors!”
“Is that what you did in jail, bitch?”
“I owned jail, bitch.”
Nicole nonchalantly explained to Chris that Paris does this often and that Blake had nothing to worry about. Chris chuckled and said, “That’s hot.”. Nicole playfully slapped his shoulder and laughed saying, “You bitch.”. They both suffered a fit of giggles.
One week later, Chris was on a radio show. The host asked, “Recent reps tell me that you’re dating Nicole Richie. Is that true?”
“Nah, man. We’re just friends that’s all. Just friends.”
Fin.
P.S.: Is it not the most adorable thing ever the way Chris says “just friends” every time there’s rumors about him and a girl? It kills me.
Title: Just Friends
Rating: pg-13? perhaps R for suggestive themes.
Summary: Blake Lewis/Chris Richardson featuring a Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie showdown!
Disclaimer: This story is 100% true and happened yesterday. I was there to report. [ if you believe this, you have retardia ].
read it betch <3
By the way -- I'm the first person to call Chris Richardson a "ninja turtle". So suck it! :]
“This is going to be so hot.” Exclaimed Chris, putting on his Pacsun hoodie.
“Isn’t it though? I heard the urinals there are made of gold.”
Blake loved gold. He was so fascinated by shiny things. His favorite drink was Goldschlager just because of the gold in it. He just loved to watch the sparkly gold flakes swirl around inside the bottle. In fact, when he and Chris stayed in on some nights during American Idol drinking Goldschlager, Blake would absolutely refuse taking a shot unless there was gold in the glass. Just about anything shiny tickled his fancy- well, never like the way Chris tickled his fancy, but sparkles still tickled his fancy rather well. Like the sparkling letters of the “Rich Bitch” shirt he was going to buy for himself. It was more of a joke for Chris, so that one night he could come out of the bathroom wearing only the t-shirt and a pair of socks. Which would of course be followed by him pouncing on an instantly aroused Chris, straddling him, biting his neck, and asking if he loved it.
But more on that later... The important thing is that Blake and Chris were on their way to the hottest club in Hollywood. VIP access only - no paps inside. They were thrilled. The paparazzi had been so worked up about their relationship of late, so it was difficult for them to have some fun. But tonight was their night.
“Uh… Blake?” Chris said as Blake met him out in the hall.
“mHmm?” Blake tried to ask what was wrong, but it was particularly difficult to do that with a mobile device in one hand, car keys to his Mustang in the other, backpack on his arm, shades on the collar of his shirt, one untied shoe, and the key card to their hotel in his mouth.
“We’re not going to the fucking round up rodeo, you know.”
“Yeah…”
“Why do you have all that shit?”
“It’s best to be prepared, ya?”
“I have condoms.”
“Oh.”
Five minutes later came back out of their hotel bearing only the more necessary items.
“No, Blake.”
“What now?”
“I know you love your Mustang, but put your keys back.”
“But Chrissssss…. Whyyyy?”
“Because we’re both going to be shit faced drunk, and we’re not spending the night there.”
“Ohhh Chris…. Pleeaaasee? I’ll do…” Blake wrapped his arms around Chris’ bold shoulders, gazing into his eyes. “…anything.”
“First of all, you definitely won’t be able to limit yourself, and second, you’d do anything for me anyways.”
“I’d do anything to you.” Blake giggled. Chris showed his beautiful teeth.
“Besides, don’t you remember what happened when Brandon and I left that one club, completely plastered? Brandon died! And I was hospitalized for days!” Chris said dramatically.
“You spend way to much time on live journal reading all them hot stories about us.”
“Hey… I’m just trying to get inspiration on new places and/or ways that we can…”
Chris looked up and down the hallway, to find they were alone, before looking humorously back into Blake’s deep eyes, “… Foooooooook!”
Blake burst into a fit of laughter while playfully covering his hand over Chris mouth. He slowly let his hand drop, replacing it with his lips, and unconsciously lifting one leg. Chris deepened the kiss, sliding his arms around Blake’s back. Their worlds became one, spinning around them. They were the only two stars left in the sky. All they needed was each other, and that’s exactly what they had.
Blake pulled away and Chris regained his balance.
“And I love you for it!” Blake proclaimed, sliding the key card to unlock their hotel room again, “Now call a cab, you ninja turtle.”
An hour later they got through all the paparazzi outside, and entered the club, happy to see no reporters inside. They also loved that nobody inside the club approached them. The privacy was nice until suddenly, two girls entered the club: Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie.
“Oh God…” Blake whispered to Chris.
Paris and Nicole, being incredibly sexy as usual and scoping the men, laid their eyes on some cake. Paris was checking out Chris Richardson first, who she noticed in the media of late. Then she turned her eyes to Blake Lewis. Scowling, she approached them.
“So Blake,” Paris boldly interrupted anything that Chris was saying, and didn’t introduce herself, “I heard you were saying some stuff about me.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Blake replied smugly.
“Oh I don’t know. Some shit like you’d rather date some skanky hoes and not me. Was it Lindsay Lohan and Britney Spears?”
“Oh yeah.” Blake kept his cool. Chris, sensing a fight, backed away, leaning on a bar counter, enjoying the show. Nicole, being used to the spews that Paris had, went to join Chris, introducing herself.
“Uh, Yeah! That definitely doesn’t make sense seeing as those sluts will never be as hot as me.” Paris said, flipping her hair back in a casual and hot way.
“Yep, Paris. You’re right.”
“Don’t use that sarcastic tone with me, bitch!”
“You’re the bitch.”
“No, you’re the bitch!”
“Whatever bitch.”
“You’re such a bitch!”
“Are you done bitch?”
“Not until I smoke your ass bitch.”
“Just try it bitch!”
“Bitch, don’t make me get the Vaseline and straight razors!”
“Is that what you did in jail, bitch?”
“I owned jail, bitch.”
Nicole nonchalantly explained to Chris that Paris does this often and that Blake had nothing to worry about. Chris chuckled and said, “That’s hot.”. Nicole playfully slapped his shoulder and laughed saying, “You bitch.”. They both suffered a fit of giggles.
One week later, Chris was on a radio show. The host asked, “Recent reps tell me that you’re dating Nicole Richie. Is that true?”
“Nah, man. We’re just friends that’s all. Just friends.”
Fin.
P.S.: Is it not the most adorable thing ever the way Chris says “just friends” every time there’s rumors about him and a girl? It kills me.