My First Music Meme
Title: My First Music Meme
Fandom/Series: Red vs. Blue
Characters: Simmons, Grif, Tucker, Caboose, Donut, Wash, Doc, Sarge
Pairings: Simmons/Grif, Tucker/Caboose, Wash/Church/Doc, Wash/Church, Church/Wash (There's a reason I list the names in certain orders)
Summary: Ten short fics involving angsty-possibly-one-sided-but-requainted-love, men in thongs, a unicorn, partial song fic, liberal use of gay, first time sex (sort of, it's a new body), a near-death experience, a shower of angst, and of course, loving use of the F-word when deemed necessary. :)
Rating: PG-13. See summary for reasons.
Genre: General/Romance/Comedy/Angst.
Length: 2,415 words.
Status: Complete.
Warning: Lots of cursing, some sort of sex, and slashy men-loving-other-men-ness.
Notes: One is a sequel to "Down Down the Seventeenth Rabbit Hole," and another is a prequel.
21 Guns - Green Day - General
--
It was depressing, seeing all those bodies. A desolate battlefield of needless murder was littered with corpses of soldiers. Laying on the ground, armor singed and bloody and filled with holes, limbs akimbo. Helmets dark, spread with a lethal spider web of cracks that meant some of them died from loss of oyxgen. Weapons abandoned, left just inches away from lifeless fingertips.
The stillness of death brought a thick silence, amplifying unspoken thoughts.
The Blues looked to the Reds, and the Reds looked to the Blues. Tensions slipped away and were replaced with a feeling of camaraderie. They were still alive, they were together… Their continued existence made them question many things: their existence, luck, relationships, purpose in life, mission.
“Fuck….” Tucker said in reverence.
Nobody else said a word. As the moments passed through, they no longer felt like pursuing each other across the field of the fallen. They no longer felt like fighting.
At the moment, both sides had given up the fight in honor of those who lost their lives in a meaningless war.
They no longer harbored feelings consisting of shooting each other and winning. All that mattered was peace, allowing for the water to pass solemnly under the brige… because deep down, it didn’t matter the color of their armor; all were men beneath.
* * *
Gotta Be Somebody - Nickelback - Simmons/Grif
--
Simmons cursed himself for thinking too much when he was alone. This time, his thoughts were considerably serious. He was thinking too hard about being alone, being in love, and being a soldier: that combination made life suck a lot harder than it needed to.
What was worse, Simmons was around the one he loved, and yet he never felt more alone standing next to him. Especially now, during a conversation like this.
“It sucks putting your life on the line,” Grif said. “Especially when nobody cares if you die.”
“That’s not true,” Simmons said. “I’d care if you died.”
“Yeah, only because that’d give Sarge a reason to promote you because he’d think you had something to do with it.”
“Actually, I was gonna tell you the reason for it, but you can probably guess.”
He wanted to tell him the truth about his feelings. Wanted to tell him that all these years by his side, it meant more to him then the very breaths he had moving through his lungs right at the moment.
Grif turned to him and regarded him with a strange look that Simmons could see behind the glare of the day star on his helmet. “…Do you love me or something?”
“Something like that.”
“’Cause- ‘cause if that’s true,” Grif said. “I might have something to say, too. Just to, uh, let you know.”
Simmons smiled gently. At last, he had some validation. At least, he wasn’t alone.
He was sure there was somebody out there for him, but he was also sure that the universe was lazy because his somebody was standing around on sentry duty with him at that very moment.
How convenient…yet, how wonderful.
* * *
It’s The End of the World - R.E.M. - Simmons/Grif, Tucker/Caboose,Wash/Church/Doc, Sarge in general
--
Donut was riding on a unicorn, wearing nothing but strap-on rainbow-feathered angel wings and bright pink thong. His helmet was off, in his hand, and filled with glitter.
“Be free! Let yourself out in the open to come out and frolick with the unicorns and gnomes!” He sprinkled everybody with his magical dust as his mythical magenta steed galloped across the field.
“Goddamn, this has got to be a friggin’ nightmare” Sarge cursed to himself, turning away from Donut’s spectacle. “You’re all a bunch of queers.”
The Red leader dispassionately watched a strangely-acting Simmons glomp on to an aggravated Grif.
“Don’t leeeeeeeeave meeeeee!!” Simmons clutched desperately to Grif’s leg as the fellow Red tried to escape.
“Simmons, I’m not leaving you! I’ve just got work to do that you don’t need to be there for!”
Sarge stared. “Did my ears lie to me? I think I just heard Grif say he’s got work to do. If that’s the true, I need to take my meds and file a request to be Section 8.”
“I do! It’s called ‘avoiding the one you love while you look at porn’!”
“Don’t leeeeeeeeave meeeee for the internet! I’ll become a computer if that’ll make you sleep with meeeeeee!!!”
Grif continued struggling as he dragged Simmons across the valley.
“What the hell in Bluebell icecream’s goin’ on over here? You’re all a bunch of nut-sucking cock-thumpers,” Sarge said. “and I’m completely fine with it as long as you leave me out of it, and Grif ends up dead or severely maimed. Preferably dead.” He left the scene with great haste.
Meanwhile, Donut’s magical unicorn ride brought him over to the blue base. He dumped fairy stardust from his upside-down helmet, infecting all the Blues with the gay. Tucker, the ambiguously straight one, tackled Caboose while Church enjoyed attentions from a visiting Agent Washington and Doc simultaneously.
Very soon, the valley was a big gay orgy, which Sarge avoided by hiding in his garage and cowering under the Warthog.
* * *
Why Don’t You Get a Job? - The Offspring - General
--
Church was good at one thing: complaining. Today, he wasn’t the one complaining.
It was Tucker.
“She just keeps asking me for more money,” he said. “I can’t take it anymore. Why doesn’t she just get a job?”
“Well, it’s not easy doing nothing at all,” Church replied. “Besides, I thought you were only dating Sister because she gave you sex?”
“That, and because I think somebody in this valley needs to be straight.”
Tucker took off running as soon as he saw Church was done cleaning his assault rifle and taking aim.
* * *
Toucha Toucha Toucha Me - Rocky Horror Picture Show - Wash/Church
--
There was a first time for everything, and synthetic skin made everything so much better than a regular metal body. Church could feel everything Wash was doing to him. Every kiss on his neck and shoulders, every caress across his package, every slicken finger massaging his hole, every movement of his tongue, hand, heart beat.
“Never done this kind of thing before,” Church said, his voice very low. “…Damn, masturbation just isn’t good enough when you’ve got somebody like you doing stuff like this.”
“Same here,” said Wash. “You like that?”
“…Fuck, you’re make me feel dirty when you want me to say something like that. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a whore.”
“It was just a question. I want to make sure you can actually feel it, seeing as you are mostly syntethic…”
“Shut up and do me, goddammit!”
Wash chuckled as he moved inside Church, his hands roaming across the realistic skin of his lover’s back, chest, neck. “Geez, your body’s so real… It’s like - god, it’s so hot inside…”
“You’re making me sound like I’m a monster.”
“You said it, not me.”
**Note: This particular ficlet takes place BEFORE “Down Down The Rabbit Hole.”
* * *
Hallelujah - John Cale - Church/Wash
--
He sacrificed himself for the Alpha. At least, that’s what he thought had happened. After the EMP went off, the world became a plume of darkness…Awareness on any level was phantom-like; wispy, fragile, partial, gossamer-like fairy wings.
Agent Washington experienced cold within the darkness. He was floating, in a purgatory of the senses, in between reality and dream. His being was disconnected, disjointed, shattered, fragmented. Floating around aimlessly in a chilled nothingness.
Everything was nothing, and nothing existed as anything… He wasn’t alone; a presence swam through the dark void like a swift shark cruising the ocean waters. A silver streak circling around him, beneath him, sparking and twinkling, cutting through the blackness as though leading him beyond…
In the nothingness, Wash couldn’t feel his body. He was barely aware of his ethereal state, his mind a ghostly imprint of what it once was…
“…Da…” A voice traveled through space, reverberated through the emptiness unhaulted.
Wash’s awareness perked up, a glimmer of the silver shark jerking around him.
“…D-dav…”
The voice was faraway, a familiar echo.
The spirit shark swam around Wash’s conscienousnous in recognition of the voice.
“David!” Stronger now, Wash’s awareness knew who it was.
The Alpha had come for him, was waiting for him. In a split second, the silver shark engulfed Wash, revitalizing, reviving his being, before sending him from the place betwixt and between to the realm of the living, the physical, and the concrete.
His visor came back on-line, staring up at the ceiling, blurry at first, then coming into focus.
“You’re awake, huh? Goddamn, I thought you were gone for good.” The voice, relieved, was now in his head.
**Note: Metaphysical experiences are hard to write. O_o Just to let you know, this takes place after the EMP goes off in Recon. As Wash discovers, he’s not really dead. Only mostly dead. xD Don’t know why this song made me think of that sort of thing. Also, I replayed it a few times because I was having problems putting what I was seeing in my mind into words. Sorry if it’s confusing. The shark somewhat symbolizes Wash’s “spirit animal.” …Yeah, don’t ask me what I mean by that; I just wrote the thing.
* * *
In The Navy - Captain Jack - General
--
With lasers and needler-bullets whizzing past, amid the explosions and screaming and almost-dying, Church crouched with the rest of Blue team behind a cluster of boulders.
“Goddammit,” he said. “I knew I should’ve joined the Navy…”
“The Navy doesn’t go in to space, Church,” Caboose said. “Then you would miss out on all the fun excitement of getting shot at by aliens!
“Exactly, Caboose. If I was in the Navy, I’d be busy getting shot at by normal bullets. Hell, I might not even be shot at, seeing as the war’s not even on Earth.”
“Oh! Church, I wanna join the space Navy! You should too! Then we could go shoot space pirates with our space bullets!”
Church growled with resentment. “I hate my life….”
* * *
Ok2BGay - Tomboy - Wash/Church and general gayness
--
Donut purchased color-coded thongs for both teams, all for the special event he had planned. He had somehow arranged for Command to send them an audience, which consisted of young recruits, retirees, and Wash.
Sarge was already seated in one of the many folding chairs, arms crossed. “I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Washington said.
“It’s Donut’s musical,” Sarge said. “His début or some fruity thing like that.”
“I’m… slightly frightened by what’s about to happen.”
“You and me both, boy.”
The rest of the audience was confused, gawking, and chattering. None of them even knew what was going on.
Right then, the auditorium became pitch black. Wash and Sarge snapped their attention to the front, which was a bad decision on their part: the curtains flew open to reveal six buff, half-naked men in thongs with their backs facing towards the viewers.
“Oh my homosexual-hating Lord….” Sarge was stunned and indignant, feeling his religious beliefs mocked by the partial nudity.
Noticing the man in a cobalt thong and having memorized that back-side for many years now, Wash started sweating with embarrassment. “…the hell? How’d Donut manage to get Church to perform in lingerie?” Even I can’t get him to do that for me, he thought to himself.
The opening line and music came on and the show began. The men in thongs sang, “It's okay to be gay, let's rejoice with the boys in the gay way!”
“Oh my god….” Wash couldn’t believe this….
“Hooray for the kind of man that you will find in the gay way!” The performers broke from the line and went into formation. “It's okay to be gay, let's rejoice with the boys in the gay way!” All voices were in harmony.
Donning thick burlesque make-up, Donut was twirling around Church and Grif, wearing a feather boa, high heels, and stockings while the others paraded around the stage in expert choreography.
“Hooray for the kind of man that you will find in the gay way! The gay waaaay!”
Wash went pale and lifeless; Sarge was loading rounds into his shotgun.
**Note: I had too much fun writing this one, I put the song on repeat until I finished my thoughts regarding the OOC performance. xD
* * *
Give Me Novacaine - Green Day - Simmons/Grif
--
He couldn’t decide what shower to take. Cold at first, turning it gradually to scorching and screaming hot like he would boiling a frog. That’s what he was. He was a boiling frog in the terrible situation that he found himself in.
Simmons leaned up against the gritty shower tiles, letting the steaming cascade pound rhythmically on his tender back muscles and bruises. The heat made him drowsy, the hotness of the water relaxing him and washing away his everyday-angst.
Hot water to wash away his bad day, his bad relationship, and his terrible life. Make him clean again.
It wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
The water ran cold, and deciding to face Grif about their problems after not talking to each other for three days, Simmons stepped out into the night air, dripping wet and reborn.
* * *
Sexual Powertrip - Blue October - Wash/Church
--
Confusing love, wrapped up in lies and hurt and possible sexual infections, was slowly mending between Church and Wash. There was no way to erase the past, no way to wipe away the ugly white marks on the chalk board. No hiding.
Church had admitted to being a dick, admitted to being a hurtful bastard. A lying bastard.
Wash wanted to believe him, but part of him told him that Church couldn’t be fully trusted, at least not so early nor easily.
Church wanted to make things better; Wash wanted that, too, but something kept fucking up. They weren’t sure whose fault it was, so Church took the blame. Took the pain of angry fucks, the bleeding and rawness of injured, broken love slowly rebuilding its splintered foundation from love affairs come and gone and back again.
**Note: This one takes place AFTER “Down Down the Seventeenth Rabbit Hole.” Couldn’t help myself from writing more Wash/Church angst… >.> <.<
--
The End, for now.
Fandom/Series: Red vs. Blue
Characters: Simmons, Grif, Tucker, Caboose, Donut, Wash, Doc, Sarge
Pairings: Simmons/Grif, Tucker/Caboose, Wash/Church/Doc, Wash/Church, Church/Wash (There's a reason I list the names in certain orders)
Summary: Ten short fics involving angsty-possibly-one-sided-but-requainted-love, men in thongs, a unicorn, partial song fic, liberal use of gay, first time sex (sort of, it's a new body), a near-death experience, a shower of angst, and of course, loving use of the F-word when deemed necessary. :)
Rating: PG-13. See summary for reasons.
Genre: General/Romance/Comedy/Angst.
Length: 2,415 words.
Status: Complete.
Warning: Lots of cursing, some sort of sex, and slashy men-loving-other-men-ness.
Notes: One is a sequel to "Down Down the Seventeenth Rabbit Hole," and another is a prequel.
21 Guns - Green Day - General
--
It was depressing, seeing all those bodies. A desolate battlefield of needless murder was littered with corpses of soldiers. Laying on the ground, armor singed and bloody and filled with holes, limbs akimbo. Helmets dark, spread with a lethal spider web of cracks that meant some of them died from loss of oyxgen. Weapons abandoned, left just inches away from lifeless fingertips.
The stillness of death brought a thick silence, amplifying unspoken thoughts.
The Blues looked to the Reds, and the Reds looked to the Blues. Tensions slipped away and were replaced with a feeling of camaraderie. They were still alive, they were together… Their continued existence made them question many things: their existence, luck, relationships, purpose in life, mission.
“Fuck….” Tucker said in reverence.
Nobody else said a word. As the moments passed through, they no longer felt like pursuing each other across the field of the fallen. They no longer felt like fighting.
At the moment, both sides had given up the fight in honor of those who lost their lives in a meaningless war.
They no longer harbored feelings consisting of shooting each other and winning. All that mattered was peace, allowing for the water to pass solemnly under the brige… because deep down, it didn’t matter the color of their armor; all were men beneath.
* * *
Gotta Be Somebody - Nickelback - Simmons/Grif
--
Simmons cursed himself for thinking too much when he was alone. This time, his thoughts were considerably serious. He was thinking too hard about being alone, being in love, and being a soldier: that combination made life suck a lot harder than it needed to.
What was worse, Simmons was around the one he loved, and yet he never felt more alone standing next to him. Especially now, during a conversation like this.
“It sucks putting your life on the line,” Grif said. “Especially when nobody cares if you die.”
“That’s not true,” Simmons said. “I’d care if you died.”
“Yeah, only because that’d give Sarge a reason to promote you because he’d think you had something to do with it.”
“Actually, I was gonna tell you the reason for it, but you can probably guess.”
He wanted to tell him the truth about his feelings. Wanted to tell him that all these years by his side, it meant more to him then the very breaths he had moving through his lungs right at the moment.
Grif turned to him and regarded him with a strange look that Simmons could see behind the glare of the day star on his helmet. “…Do you love me or something?”
“Something like that.”
“’Cause- ‘cause if that’s true,” Grif said. “I might have something to say, too. Just to, uh, let you know.”
Simmons smiled gently. At last, he had some validation. At least, he wasn’t alone.
He was sure there was somebody out there for him, but he was also sure that the universe was lazy because his somebody was standing around on sentry duty with him at that very moment.
How convenient…yet, how wonderful.
* * *
It’s The End of the World - R.E.M. - Simmons/Grif, Tucker/Caboose,Wash/Church/Doc, Sarge in general
--
Donut was riding on a unicorn, wearing nothing but strap-on rainbow-feathered angel wings and bright pink thong. His helmet was off, in his hand, and filled with glitter.
“Be free! Let yourself out in the open to come out and frolick with the unicorns and gnomes!” He sprinkled everybody with his magical dust as his mythical magenta steed galloped across the field.
“Goddamn, this has got to be a friggin’ nightmare” Sarge cursed to himself, turning away from Donut’s spectacle. “You’re all a bunch of queers.”
The Red leader dispassionately watched a strangely-acting Simmons glomp on to an aggravated Grif.
“Don’t leeeeeeeeave meeeeee!!” Simmons clutched desperately to Grif’s leg as the fellow Red tried to escape.
“Simmons, I’m not leaving you! I’ve just got work to do that you don’t need to be there for!”
Sarge stared. “Did my ears lie to me? I think I just heard Grif say he’s got work to do. If that’s the true, I need to take my meds and file a request to be Section 8.”
“I do! It’s called ‘avoiding the one you love while you look at porn’!”
“Don’t leeeeeeeeave meeeee for the internet! I’ll become a computer if that’ll make you sleep with meeeeeee!!!”
Grif continued struggling as he dragged Simmons across the valley.
“What the hell in Bluebell icecream’s goin’ on over here? You’re all a bunch of nut-sucking cock-thumpers,” Sarge said. “and I’m completely fine with it as long as you leave me out of it, and Grif ends up dead or severely maimed. Preferably dead.” He left the scene with great haste.
Meanwhile, Donut’s magical unicorn ride brought him over to the blue base. He dumped fairy stardust from his upside-down helmet, infecting all the Blues with the gay. Tucker, the ambiguously straight one, tackled Caboose while Church enjoyed attentions from a visiting Agent Washington and Doc simultaneously.
Very soon, the valley was a big gay orgy, which Sarge avoided by hiding in his garage and cowering under the Warthog.
* * *
Why Don’t You Get a Job? - The Offspring - General
--
Church was good at one thing: complaining. Today, he wasn’t the one complaining.
It was Tucker.
“She just keeps asking me for more money,” he said. “I can’t take it anymore. Why doesn’t she just get a job?”
“Well, it’s not easy doing nothing at all,” Church replied. “Besides, I thought you were only dating Sister because she gave you sex?”
“That, and because I think somebody in this valley needs to be straight.”
Tucker took off running as soon as he saw Church was done cleaning his assault rifle and taking aim.
* * *
Toucha Toucha Toucha Me - Rocky Horror Picture Show - Wash/Church
--
There was a first time for everything, and synthetic skin made everything so much better than a regular metal body. Church could feel everything Wash was doing to him. Every kiss on his neck and shoulders, every caress across his package, every slicken finger massaging his hole, every movement of his tongue, hand, heart beat.
“Never done this kind of thing before,” Church said, his voice very low. “…Damn, masturbation just isn’t good enough when you’ve got somebody like you doing stuff like this.”
“Same here,” said Wash. “You like that?”
“…Fuck, you’re make me feel dirty when you want me to say something like that. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a whore.”
“It was just a question. I want to make sure you can actually feel it, seeing as you are mostly syntethic…”
“Shut up and do me, goddammit!”
Wash chuckled as he moved inside Church, his hands roaming across the realistic skin of his lover’s back, chest, neck. “Geez, your body’s so real… It’s like - god, it’s so hot inside…”
“You’re making me sound like I’m a monster.”
“You said it, not me.”
**Note: This particular ficlet takes place BEFORE “Down Down The Rabbit Hole.”
* * *
Hallelujah - John Cale - Church/Wash
--
He sacrificed himself for the Alpha. At least, that’s what he thought had happened. After the EMP went off, the world became a plume of darkness…Awareness on any level was phantom-like; wispy, fragile, partial, gossamer-like fairy wings.
Agent Washington experienced cold within the darkness. He was floating, in a purgatory of the senses, in between reality and dream. His being was disconnected, disjointed, shattered, fragmented. Floating around aimlessly in a chilled nothingness.
Everything was nothing, and nothing existed as anything… He wasn’t alone; a presence swam through the dark void like a swift shark cruising the ocean waters. A silver streak circling around him, beneath him, sparking and twinkling, cutting through the blackness as though leading him beyond…
In the nothingness, Wash couldn’t feel his body. He was barely aware of his ethereal state, his mind a ghostly imprint of what it once was…
“…Da…” A voice traveled through space, reverberated through the emptiness unhaulted.
Wash’s awareness perked up, a glimmer of the silver shark jerking around him.
“…D-dav…”
The voice was faraway, a familiar echo.
The spirit shark swam around Wash’s conscienousnous in recognition of the voice.
“David!” Stronger now, Wash’s awareness knew who it was.
The Alpha had come for him, was waiting for him. In a split second, the silver shark engulfed Wash, revitalizing, reviving his being, before sending him from the place betwixt and between to the realm of the living, the physical, and the concrete.
His visor came back on-line, staring up at the ceiling, blurry at first, then coming into focus.
“You’re awake, huh? Goddamn, I thought you were gone for good.” The voice, relieved, was now in his head.
**Note: Metaphysical experiences are hard to write. O_o Just to let you know, this takes place after the EMP goes off in Recon. As Wash discovers, he’s not really dead. Only mostly dead. xD Don’t know why this song made me think of that sort of thing. Also, I replayed it a few times because I was having problems putting what I was seeing in my mind into words. Sorry if it’s confusing. The shark somewhat symbolizes Wash’s “spirit animal.” …Yeah, don’t ask me what I mean by that; I just wrote the thing.
* * *
In The Navy - Captain Jack - General
--
With lasers and needler-bullets whizzing past, amid the explosions and screaming and almost-dying, Church crouched with the rest of Blue team behind a cluster of boulders.
“Goddammit,” he said. “I knew I should’ve joined the Navy…”
“The Navy doesn’t go in to space, Church,” Caboose said. “Then you would miss out on all the fun excitement of getting shot at by aliens!
“Exactly, Caboose. If I was in the Navy, I’d be busy getting shot at by normal bullets. Hell, I might not even be shot at, seeing as the war’s not even on Earth.”
“Oh! Church, I wanna join the space Navy! You should too! Then we could go shoot space pirates with our space bullets!”
Church growled with resentment. “I hate my life….”
* * *
Ok2BGay - Tomboy - Wash/Church and general gayness
--
Donut purchased color-coded thongs for both teams, all for the special event he had planned. He had somehow arranged for Command to send them an audience, which consisted of young recruits, retirees, and Wash.
Sarge was already seated in one of the many folding chairs, arms crossed. “I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”
“I don’t even know why I’m here,” Washington said.
“It’s Donut’s musical,” Sarge said. “His début or some fruity thing like that.”
“I’m… slightly frightened by what’s about to happen.”
“You and me both, boy.”
The rest of the audience was confused, gawking, and chattering. None of them even knew what was going on.
Right then, the auditorium became pitch black. Wash and Sarge snapped their attention to the front, which was a bad decision on their part: the curtains flew open to reveal six buff, half-naked men in thongs with their backs facing towards the viewers.
“Oh my homosexual-hating Lord….” Sarge was stunned and indignant, feeling his religious beliefs mocked by the partial nudity.
Noticing the man in a cobalt thong and having memorized that back-side for many years now, Wash started sweating with embarrassment. “…the hell? How’d Donut manage to get Church to perform in lingerie?” Even I can’t get him to do that for me, he thought to himself.
The opening line and music came on and the show began. The men in thongs sang, “It's okay to be gay, let's rejoice with the boys in the gay way!”
“Oh my god….” Wash couldn’t believe this….
“Hooray for the kind of man that you will find in the gay way!” The performers broke from the line and went into formation. “It's okay to be gay, let's rejoice with the boys in the gay way!” All voices were in harmony.
Donning thick burlesque make-up, Donut was twirling around Church and Grif, wearing a feather boa, high heels, and stockings while the others paraded around the stage in expert choreography.
“Hooray for the kind of man that you will find in the gay way! The gay waaaay!”
Wash went pale and lifeless; Sarge was loading rounds into his shotgun.
**Note: I had too much fun writing this one, I put the song on repeat until I finished my thoughts regarding the OOC performance. xD
* * *
Give Me Novacaine - Green Day - Simmons/Grif
--
He couldn’t decide what shower to take. Cold at first, turning it gradually to scorching and screaming hot like he would boiling a frog. That’s what he was. He was a boiling frog in the terrible situation that he found himself in.
Simmons leaned up against the gritty shower tiles, letting the steaming cascade pound rhythmically on his tender back muscles and bruises. The heat made him drowsy, the hotness of the water relaxing him and washing away his everyday-angst.
Hot water to wash away his bad day, his bad relationship, and his terrible life. Make him clean again.
It wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
The water ran cold, and deciding to face Grif about their problems after not talking to each other for three days, Simmons stepped out into the night air, dripping wet and reborn.
* * *
Sexual Powertrip - Blue October - Wash/Church
--
Confusing love, wrapped up in lies and hurt and possible sexual infections, was slowly mending between Church and Wash. There was no way to erase the past, no way to wipe away the ugly white marks on the chalk board. No hiding.
Church had admitted to being a dick, admitted to being a hurtful bastard. A lying bastard.
Wash wanted to believe him, but part of him told him that Church couldn’t be fully trusted, at least not so early nor easily.
Church wanted to make things better; Wash wanted that, too, but something kept fucking up. They weren’t sure whose fault it was, so Church took the blame. Took the pain of angry fucks, the bleeding and rawness of injured, broken love slowly rebuilding its splintered foundation from love affairs come and gone and back again.
**Note: This one takes place AFTER “Down Down the Seventeenth Rabbit Hole.” Couldn’t help myself from writing more Wash/Church angst… >.> <.<
--
The End, for now.