RPS FIC: Couldn’t have done it without you (couldn’t think about doing it alone.) [Steve /Chris]
Drabble meme that really should be just meme because I suck at sticking to story lengths. This is for nebulein who wanted Steve/Chris: Rock the world. Beta'd by the lovely nightfive
Title: Couldn’t have done it without you (couldn’t think about doing it alone.)
Author: Selena
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Chris
Rating: PG-16
Word Count: 630
Summary: When he was 16 he told his Mama he was going to rock the world.
Notes/Warnings: RPS.
Disclaimer: Nope, never happed, these are real people and they belong to themselves.
Couldn’t have done it without you (couldn’t think about doing it alone.)
I.
When he was 16 he told his Mama he was going to rock the world. She’d just smiled and sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder she’d told him not to rock it too hard, she kinda liked the world all in one piece. He’d smiled back and said he’d try his best.
“That’s all I can ask of you.” She’d told him and he knew then that he was going to do his best to make his Mama proud.
He’d left soon after that, left with worried but kind words in his ear and less than 1000 bucks in his pocket. He’d left looking for the bright lights of some big city, he’d left looking to make it. He’d never wanted to make it big, he never craved the glare of the luminescent spotlight, he didn’t care if he never sold out a stadium or if his spoken words never reached further than the back row of the local theatre. He didn’t need stardom, but he did want to make it his way. If what he did only spoke to a handful of people he didn’t care as long as someone got it.
Steve got it, Steve got him.
He still remembers the first time they met, like it was yesterday. Still remembers how Steve’s easy smile made him feel better about just about everything. Fucking brain twins they were, hell, Steve understood things about him that no one else had a hope in hell of. They fit together so fucking well, it’s like they were moulded from two halves of the same person just fixed up to look different.
Yeah, no one else understood what he meant when he started on his shit, but Steve did. It sorta helped that Steve spoke fluent drunk and was able to decipher his slurred out and horribly elongated vowel sounds.
II.
When he was 12 his Daddy told him to pick a direction and run with it, but he never could, he wanted - needed - to be everywhere and do everything all at once.
Steve gets why, sometimes, he needs to act out. That’s coz Steve gets him, he may have mentioned that a few times. Steve doesn’t know how acting is like this itch he has to scratch on occasion, but he does understand the need to get the hell out of dodge and just be someone else for a while. Steve’s got his own thing going and, man, he is so fucking proud of that boy it fucking hurts. ‘Course, Steve would slap him upside the head if he was caught calling him boy.
Steve understands without needing some bullshit explanation.
With some other folk, he feels like he has to keep up this constant stream of consciousness, a wall of sound to fill up whatever silence fell over them. He likes the ease of conversation and silence is just too damn quiet. But with Steve, even the quiet is comfortable, and that’s nice you know. He ain’t got to be anyone but his own damn self, not that he puts up a front for anyone else, but when he’s with Steve he doesn’t feel like he has anything to prove. ‘Cept maybe sometimes his talent, that boy’s got skills, but don’t for fucks sake tell him that.
III.
He watched the light slowly bleed out of the day with a sort of hitched anticipation beating in his chest. The almost night air was electric, alive with the scent of pre-show sex and sweat.
He could hear the crowd calling his name, their names, a soft sound that grew into a roar.
“Hey, Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s rock this bitch.”
“That sounds like a damn good idea.”
FIN.
Title: Couldn’t have done it without you (couldn’t think about doing it alone.)
Author: Selena
Pairings/Characters: Steve/Chris
Rating: PG-16
Word Count: 630
Summary: When he was 16 he told his Mama he was going to rock the world.
Notes/Warnings: RPS.
Disclaimer: Nope, never happed, these are real people and they belong to themselves.
Couldn’t have done it without you (couldn’t think about doing it alone.)
I.
When he was 16 he told his Mama he was going to rock the world. She’d just smiled and sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder she’d told him not to rock it too hard, she kinda liked the world all in one piece. He’d smiled back and said he’d try his best.
“That’s all I can ask of you.” She’d told him and he knew then that he was going to do his best to make his Mama proud.
He’d left soon after that, left with worried but kind words in his ear and less than 1000 bucks in his pocket. He’d left looking for the bright lights of some big city, he’d left looking to make it. He’d never wanted to make it big, he never craved the glare of the luminescent spotlight, he didn’t care if he never sold out a stadium or if his spoken words never reached further than the back row of the local theatre. He didn’t need stardom, but he did want to make it his way. If what he did only spoke to a handful of people he didn’t care as long as someone got it.
Steve got it, Steve got him.
He still remembers the first time they met, like it was yesterday. Still remembers how Steve’s easy smile made him feel better about just about everything. Fucking brain twins they were, hell, Steve understood things about him that no one else had a hope in hell of. They fit together so fucking well, it’s like they were moulded from two halves of the same person just fixed up to look different.
Yeah, no one else understood what he meant when he started on his shit, but Steve did. It sorta helped that Steve spoke fluent drunk and was able to decipher his slurred out and horribly elongated vowel sounds.
II.
When he was 12 his Daddy told him to pick a direction and run with it, but he never could, he wanted - needed - to be everywhere and do everything all at once.
Steve gets why, sometimes, he needs to act out. That’s coz Steve gets him, he may have mentioned that a few times. Steve doesn’t know how acting is like this itch he has to scratch on occasion, but he does understand the need to get the hell out of dodge and just be someone else for a while. Steve’s got his own thing going and, man, he is so fucking proud of that boy it fucking hurts. ‘Course, Steve would slap him upside the head if he was caught calling him boy.
Steve understands without needing some bullshit explanation.
With some other folk, he feels like he has to keep up this constant stream of consciousness, a wall of sound to fill up whatever silence fell over them. He likes the ease of conversation and silence is just too damn quiet. But with Steve, even the quiet is comfortable, and that’s nice you know. He ain’t got to be anyone but his own damn self, not that he puts up a front for anyone else, but when he’s with Steve he doesn’t feel like he has anything to prove. ‘Cept maybe sometimes his talent, that boy’s got skills, but don’t for fucks sake tell him that.
III.
He watched the light slowly bleed out of the day with a sort of hitched anticipation beating in his chest. The almost night air was electric, alive with the scent of pre-show sex and sweat.
He could hear the crowd calling his name, their names, a soft sound that grew into a roar.
“Hey, Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s rock this bitch.”
“That sounds like a damn good idea.”
FIN.