Last of the English Romantics
"Last of the English Romantics"
Pairing: Peter/Carl
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Beta: rebecca_star
Word Count: 502
Notes: I'm posting this here now while I think about a title, but it'll be up on a_f on Saturday.
Further Notes: Title decided during a conversation with kattrags. Thanks, hon! <3
Peter just knew today was going to be awful. At first, he'd though a gig on Valentine's Day was the perfect idea - he hadn't wanted to spend the day at home alone for the first time in years, so when the opportunity arose to be surrounded by adoring fans instead, he leapt at the chance. Sitting alone in the back room, chain-smoking as he waited for some stupid bint from the NME to come interview him, though, was giving him second thoughts. It had been their idea - a special Valentine's interview with one of England's last Romantics - and he'd agreed, thinking the more people around him and the more attention he got, the better, but now as his mind turned over what they could possibly ask him, his stomach churned. They'd ask about Kate, of course, and his thoughts on all the pregnancy-and-marriage rumours, and he really didn't feel like dealing with that today. Worse, he worried, they might ask about -
"Pete? Pete Doherty?"
Peter looked up, plastering a smile on his face and waving the girl in. "Sorry," he apologised as he moved the ash tray he'd almost filled. "Er, pre-show nerves, you know?"
"So you still get them, even after all this time and all the shows you've done?" the girl asked, pen already scratching away.
"Of course," Peter replied, stabbing out his cigarette and leaning forward. "Each gig's different, special, yeah? You never know what's going to happen out there, what the audience will be like..."
They talked for a while about gigs and music, and Peter was just starting to really relax when the girl asked, "So, Pete, why a gig on Valentine's Day?"
Peter blinked at her and leaned back slightly. "Well," he said slowly, covering his hesitation by lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag. "Had to do something today."
"But why this? Don't you have anyone special to spend it with?" she pushed.
"I-" Peter started, but he was interrupted by the door banging open. "Who-" he demanded, turning towards the newcomer, but his words were cut off by a pair of lips being pressed to his.
"Hey," Peter murmured when they pulled apart, shifting attentively towards him and completely ignoring the other occupant of the room.
"Hey," a mumbly voice greeted back, blue eyes dancing. "Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day," Peter replied, beaming.
"C'mon," the other urged, tugging Peter up. "We've got half an hour before you're on 'cos I almost didn't make it in time, bloody traffic, so we're not going to spend it just faffing about in here while we could be-"
"Okay," Peter agreed quickly, allowing himself to be pulled out the door. They were almost down the hall when he remembered to call back to the furiously scribbling girl, "Sorry about this! We'll finish up after!"
"And don't print this or I'll-" Carl started, but Peter pressed their mouths together again and suddenly they were too distracted to care what was printed.
Pairing: Peter/Carl
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff
Beta: rebecca_star
Word Count: 502
Notes: I'm posting this here now while I think about a title, but it'll be up on a_f on Saturday.
Further Notes: Title decided during a conversation with kattrags. Thanks, hon! <3
Peter just knew today was going to be awful. At first, he'd though a gig on Valentine's Day was the perfect idea - he hadn't wanted to spend the day at home alone for the first time in years, so when the opportunity arose to be surrounded by adoring fans instead, he leapt at the chance. Sitting alone in the back room, chain-smoking as he waited for some stupid bint from the NME to come interview him, though, was giving him second thoughts. It had been their idea - a special Valentine's interview with one of England's last Romantics - and he'd agreed, thinking the more people around him and the more attention he got, the better, but now as his mind turned over what they could possibly ask him, his stomach churned. They'd ask about Kate, of course, and his thoughts on all the pregnancy-and-marriage rumours, and he really didn't feel like dealing with that today. Worse, he worried, they might ask about -
"Pete? Pete Doherty?"
Peter looked up, plastering a smile on his face and waving the girl in. "Sorry," he apologised as he moved the ash tray he'd almost filled. "Er, pre-show nerves, you know?"
"So you still get them, even after all this time and all the shows you've done?" the girl asked, pen already scratching away.
"Of course," Peter replied, stabbing out his cigarette and leaning forward. "Each gig's different, special, yeah? You never know what's going to happen out there, what the audience will be like..."
They talked for a while about gigs and music, and Peter was just starting to really relax when the girl asked, "So, Pete, why a gig on Valentine's Day?"
Peter blinked at her and leaned back slightly. "Well," he said slowly, covering his hesitation by lighting another cigarette and taking a long drag. "Had to do something today."
"But why this? Don't you have anyone special to spend it with?" she pushed.
"I-" Peter started, but he was interrupted by the door banging open. "Who-" he demanded, turning towards the newcomer, but his words were cut off by a pair of lips being pressed to his.
"Hey," Peter murmured when they pulled apart, shifting attentively towards him and completely ignoring the other occupant of the room.
"Hey," a mumbly voice greeted back, blue eyes dancing. "Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day," Peter replied, beaming.
"C'mon," the other urged, tugging Peter up. "We've got half an hour before you're on 'cos I almost didn't make it in time, bloody traffic, so we're not going to spend it just faffing about in here while we could be-"
"Okay," Peter agreed quickly, allowing himself to be pulled out the door. They were almost down the hall when he remembered to call back to the furiously scribbling girl, "Sorry about this! We'll finish up after!"
"And don't print this or I'll-" Carl started, but Peter pressed their mouths together again and suddenly they were too distracted to care what was printed.