(no subject)
Title: A Pointless Slash Fanfiction Dealing With The Importance Of High Quality Bass Players And Blink 182.
Author: Emelie
Pairing: Jeph/Mikey
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mikey and Jeph has different opinions about Blink 182, bass playing and Mark Hoppus.
Warning: Bad humour. Blink 182.
Note: I love Mikey and all, but I don’t think he has any bass playing style. Jeph has though. And I love Mark Hoppus. And remember, this is not to be taken seriously, it’s just for fun. As far as I know this is not true and Mikey’s not obsessed with Mark Hoppus.
This is for my own bass playing DeLonge, I made her laugh and that was the main purpose (Hoppus på dig!). A huge thank you to the wonderful _hellyes for beta <3
I'm sorry I forgot, you might be intresed in seeing this picture before reading this...
The music is blaring in the empty bus, filling every corner of it with its fast but sticky melodies. This is the best part of the day, Mikey thinks to himself, stretching out in his bunk. He loves the times when he's all alone in the tour bus, times that do not appear too often. Times when he can just lie in his bed, relaxing and listen to whatever music he likes to.
Especially since the other guys seems to have as favourite occupation to tease him for his taste in music. There are just some CDs that aren't supposed to be played aloud, it seems. And listening to music with headphones just doesn't give the same feeling.
He hums along to the song, looking at the ceiling above him, almost drifting off to sleep. But the sound of the door to the bus getting opened and then slammed shut drags him to the land of the awake. He looks out from the shadows of his bunk to see who the dark lord may have sent to disturb his time alone. What meets his eyes is a smiling Jeph.
While alone time is great, alone time with Jeph is even better. But right now Mikey just wants to be alone, by himself. Even though seeing Jeph still makes his heart jolt.
"Hey honey, what's up?" Jeph asks.
"I'm trying to take a nap, but some rude, over-tattooed guy just disturbed me."
"I love you too. Can I join you?"
Mikey moves into the dark corner of his bunk, making room for Jeph to lie beside him. Jeph kicks of his shoes before cuddling up beside Mikey's thin body. It's a good thing Mikey's so thin, he thinks, or he would have problems fitting into the bunk beside him.
"How can you listen to this music?" he asks, knowing how much it will irritate Mikey.
Mikey yawns and peers at the man resting beside him. "I like it, if you can't stand it you can go."
"It's just cheap ass immature pop," Jeph smiles cheekily.
"You're so mean," Mikey mutters and turns his back to Jeph, who putts his arm over Mikey's stomach, rubbing it softly through his t-shirt.
"Don't get all sulky now," he whispers into Mikey's ear, "I love you even though you love Blink 182."
Mikey murmurs something and although it’s impossible to make out, Jeph thinks he’s saying something about wanting to take his nap now.
Mikey sighs, at least he didn't turn the CD off, that's a good sign. He loves to listen to immature pop-punk, there's something about Blink 182 that makes him totally relaxed. There's no brain involved, he needs that for a change. If only Jeph could understand that.
*
Mikey studies Jeph as he looks at the CD booklet. They are still alone in the bus, but now sitting up in his bunk. Jeph looks suspicious at the cover picture of a young blonde woman, making a displeased noise as he lets his breath out through his nose. He opens the booklet and unfolds it, the sound turning into giggles as a line of men in all shapes and sizes can be seen, all of them posing in their underwear.
"Really Mikey," he laughs, "This looks like a commercial for a bad porn movie!"
Mikey gives him a killing glare, "It's not the cover that counts, it's the music inside!"
"If only the music held a higher standard."
Mikey sighs, sometimes he debates starting to wear a Blink 182 t-shirt all the time instead for his old Anthrax shirt. It’s not that he doesn’t love Anthrax anymore, it’s just that he enjoys getting Jeph back for the teasing even more. And besides, the Anthrax shirt has started to get quite smelly.
"So who's that Hoppus guy anyway?" Jeph asks scanning the line of almost naked men, "’cause he is in this picture, right?"
"Yeah, there," Mikey points at one of the men.
"The dude with the thong! Seriously Mikey, how can you fancy a guy posing only wearing a thong that doesn't even fit him?"
"He plays bass," Mikey explains matter-of-factly, "and besides, he's not dressed like that all the time."
"Thank god, I would get nightmares."
"That's him too," Mikey points to the same man, but in a different spot in the picture. He is now wearing white boxers with black dots.
"He looks fat, and he's got a farmers tan."
"That better?" Mikey points at the picture again, but now at the man standing on the far left side of the picture. He is dressed in green boxers with fishes on, sucking in his stomach in a way that makes him look like a concentration camp prisoner.
"That's him again?"
Mikey nods.
"Same old farmers tan. I like that dude better," Jeph points at a guy standing with his back to the camera at the right side of the picture. He is dressed in white boxers with a red heart over his ass. "I want boxers like that."
"That's Tom DeLonge," Mikey giggles. That was the most positive thing Jeph has ever said about Blink 182, and maybe if things continue in this way, Mikey can get him to like Blink 182 after all.
"It is? Dude, he's gro.... he's pretty hot."
"I knew it," Mikey laughs, "you do like them, deep down you do!" he jumps into Jeph's lap screaming, "Hoppus!"
"Stop Hoppus-ing me!" Jeph protests weakly, but wraps his arms around a giggling Mikey to make him stay where he is. He hates it when Mikey does this, jumping at him and screaming "Hoppus!" For some reason unknown to Jeph, Mikey does this at least twice a day. And each time he looks like it's the funniest thing ever. "I just said that to please you."
"You did not," Mikey teases, wiggling his head away from Jeph, who is trying to kiss him.
"I did, so now you have to please me," he says, finally capturing Mikey's lips with his own.
"How rude," Mikey mumbles, kissing Jeph back, causing them both to giggle.
*
Mikey is looking through the cupboards in the small kitchen of the bus, trying to find cups for him and Jeph. He can't understand where his band mates could have lost all the cups, because nothing could possibly disappear in a kitchen this small. Apparently, they have succeeded in that impossible task anyway, so Mikey decides that they have to drink their tea from glasses. He makes his way to the back of the bus where Jeph is sitting on the couch waiting for him.
"Glasses?" he comments suspiciously as he sees Mikey approaching.
"Yeah, I couldn't find any cups. I hope they won't burn our fingers off."
"I doubt so, tea is nice. If it was coffee I bet they would though."
Mikey rolls his eyes while sitting down beside Jeph and putting the glasses down on the table.
"I need to talk to you about something," Jeph says while sipping his tea.
"Yeah, what?" Mikeys asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable as Jeph's expression is more serious than usual.
"Your bass playing."
"My bass playing?"
"Yeah, between us bass players, you really need to work on your playing style."
Mikey looks at Jeph in disbelief, what does this have to do with anything and why does he care at all? It's not like his bass playing affects Jeph in any way. He even had to play that ridiculous tambourine in "Under Pressure" while Jeph was allowed to stick to his bass.
Wait, maybe that was it. Why was he the only one who was taken away from his instrument during that song? If they could have two drummers, then why not two bassists? Right now he can't remember how he ended up playing that tambourine, but he is sure there is something suspicious here.
"I know you never had any proper lessons," Jeph interrupts his thoughts, "and it is very good of you to come as long as you have with only being self learned. But I think it's time for you to get some lessons now to improve your ability. And I am willing to be your teacher."
"I think I'm doing just fine."
"But you look like a scarecrow."
"Now that was just rude!"
"Although I will admit that you're one of the sexiest scarecrows I've seen."
"And that was one of the worst compliments I’ve ever gotten."
"No problem, when you get too old to tour I can use you as an unusual lifelike lawn ornament."
"Jeph, that's not funny!"
"Sorry, I'm just trying to show you how much I love you."
"That was a very strange way of showing it. Let's go back to the subject, what's wrong with my bass playing?"
"You play like a guitarist."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It looks stupid. I've got some bass rules for you."
"Really, I'm excited," Mikey says sarcastically.
"It's quite interesting, really. Rule number one: move a lot."
"But there’s no room, I just bump into the drums or Ger..."
"Shut up. Rule number two: don't use picks."
"But you do."
"Not all the time. Rule number three: don't act like you play guitar."
"I don't!"
"You do. Look here Mikey, the way you move your right hand, and your left too for that matter, shows that you are very influenced by guitar playing. This doesn’t mean the sound comes out worse, it's just a question of style!"
"I have style."
"Not bass style. You have to remember one thing, guitars are great in all ways, but it ain't the same thing as basses."
"Right."
"Like a viola ain't the same thing as a violin."
"What?"
"Never mind, it's like if people comes up to you and calls you Gerard."
"Okay," Mikey gives Jeph a suspicious glare, like he can see no point in what Jeph is saying. "So you say that I should start use the stage as a trampoline, stop using a pick and start holding my bass in a different way?"
"Exactly."
"That means I'm turning into you."
"That wasn't my point really. Just parts of it."
"I'm playing like the god himself does."
"The who?"
"The god, Mark Hoppus. Duh!"
"Actually, he has more bass style than you. But just a bit."
"I'm on the right track. I should start saying my prayers more often." Jeph stares at Mikey in disbelief, who tries to look dead serious, and almost succeeds.
"I hate Mark Hoppus!" Jeph screams suddenly.
"I love Mark Hoppus!"
"No, you love me!"
"I love you, and Mark Hoppus."
"How can I have sex with someone who adores a 30 year old guy who still acts like he's in high school?"
"I hope that was a rhetorical question and I'm not gonna correct you about his age."
"You just did, almost."
"Shut up. Now tell me how I'm going to play this goddamn bass to please you."
"Okay," Jeph takes a breath, suddenly serious. "First, and this is most important, you have to move your right hand less. You have four strings, right? And you usually just play at one at the time, right? Why then move your hand like you have six strings and like you are playing chords where you have to hit all strings? It's a question of laziness, I suppose. Because you'll need the energy in your left hand. Keep your fingers together and don't spread them like you need to reach the whole bass with one hand. Just move your hand like you are stroking the bass instead. Once again, you do not play chords. After that, you just need to start moving around more. Not much, it's okay to just stand almost still and move in pace with the music. Just don't stand still and stare into the distance like some antique Greek philosopher."
"If there was anyone else but you telling me this I would get so pissed. But now it’s you, so now I'm just a bit pissed," Mikey pauses for a moment before continuing. "But why the fuck do I have to do that!?!"
"Because it will improve your skills as a bass player."
"Mark Hoppus plays like me and he's a great bass player."
"Krist Novoselic, he's better and he plays like me."
"Paul McCartney."
"He was originally a guitarist, he doesn't count!"
"He's most famous for playing bass though."
"Whatever. Matt Rubano."
"Pete Wentz."
"Matt Lovato."
"Matt Lova... what?"
"Bassist of Mest."
"Mest? Yeah, that's them with that green haired singer who has a crush on Bert!"
"Like having a crush on Bert is an unusual thing. Everyone's got a crush on Bert."
"Not me. No, wait..." Mikey suddenly looks accusingly at Jeph who looks back wide eyed.
"No, no, not me. I'm not everyone, am I?"
"It would get rather busy for you to be."
"...and besides you have a crush on that Hoppus dude."
"It's not the same. Oh, wait, was that a yes?"
"No!"
"I'll keep an eye on you two. And if you really want me to change my playing style, I think you need to show me how to do it, not only talk about it."
"Sure, let's just finish this tea before it turns into ice tea."
*
A while later Mikey is sitting on the couch, his bass in his lap and Jeph behind him, one leg on either side of him. It isn’t the most comfortable position to play in, but Jeph said it was the best if he should be able to help. Mikey starts playing a few notes that can barely be heard because of the lack of amplifiers.
Jeph moves his right arm around Mikey, grabbing his hand lightly, the same hand that is trying to get any sound out of the quiet instrument.
"Keep playing," he says, "but let me guide your hand. Relax." Mikey does as he's told, finding that it is quite relaxing as Jeph takes control over his playing. His hand is captured in Jeph's while only his fingers can keep moving.
"That's good, baby. Perfect," Jeph purrs, his head resting against Mikey's shoulder so his lips almost touch his ear.
"I'm always good," Mikey answers lazily.
"True." Jeph loosens his grip around Mikey's hand a little. "Now let's get started on your other hand too." Jeph reaches his left arm out to grab Mikey's other hand, going through the same procedure again.
This time Mikey has a harder time following Jeph's lead, his fingers wanting to do their own thing. But after some bad mess-ups, which lead to a horrible sound escaping the poor bass, Jeph seems satisfied. He loosens his grip on Mikey's hands, letting him play on his own.
Mikey tries to keep playing as Jeph showed him, mostly just to please Jeph as he knows that as soon as he gets up on a stage again everything will go back to normal. The sea of screaming people in front of him will fill him with fear and he will stay still in the back, not daring to move much. Because moving is dangerous, and it's not for him. Maybe, just maybe he will wear a Blink 182 t-shirt.
But he will never tell Jeph that, neither about the t-shirt nor the fear. How can he understand that? He, who is shining of confidence as soon as he mounts a stage?
In some way Jeph has managed to move out from behind Mikey without disturbing his playing too much, and he is now sitting cross-legged on the table in front of the couch, watching his pupil. He is smiling to himself, it feels good to see how fast Mikey is learning. He isn't totally relaxed yet and he looks a bit unused to playing this way and the fingers of his left hand are still messing up every now and then as they push down on the strings. But it looks better than he ever expected after such a short period of time. Mikey finally looks like the bassist he is.
Suddenly the familiar melody Mikey is playing turns into something that Jeph doesn't recognise. Something fast and happy. Mikey's fingers move confidently, knowing every single note by heart. His mouth opens, letting out sounds rarely heard, sounds of Mikey singing.
"And that's about the time that bitch hung up on me,
Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three,
And are still more amused by prank phone calls,
What the hell is call ID?
My friends says I should act my age,
What's my age again?
What's my age again?"
To be honest it sounds quite horrible.
"No one should take themselves so seriously,
With many years ahead to fall in line,
Why would you wish that on me?
I never want to act my age,
What's my age again?
What's my age again?"
Mikey finishes with a big smile. "I’ve been practicing for that a long time," he smirks.
"I bet you have" Jeph smiles back, actually quite amused at what he has seen. So much better than the original, he decides. He should get Mikey a guitar instead and than they could run away and open a bar somewhere. Where horny teenage girls could pay him lots of money to get in and see Mikey play crappy songs only dressed in a smile. They would get rich on that.
And maybe sued by that Hoppus guy.
That wouldn't be too bad though, he could just let Mikey wiggle his pretty, none-existent ass and suggest things that wouldn't make him hop for days.
The only problem would be if Hoppus doesn't take those kinds of bribes. If there's a problem he can always dress Mikey up in fake tits and high heels and tell Hoppus that it's not gay at all.
"Earth to Jeph, hello? Anyone at home?" Mikey waves his hand in front of Jeph's eyes.
"Yeah, what?"
"What are you dreaming about?"
"Bribes, Mark Hoppus and fake tits."
Mikey stares at Jeph, "What?"
"You can also put it this way, I'm planning our future."
"Now you're just plain weird."
"Not worse than you." Jeph moves down from the table, taking the bass from Mikey and putting it back in its case. "You're doing great," he smiles, "tomorrow we’ll take lesson number two: how to move. And after that you just have to put the two parts together." He sits down beside Mikey, who sighs. Really, he doesn't care about this at all.
"Hoppus!" he screams, making a quick jump into Jeph's lap.
"Stop Hoppus-ing me, Hoppus freak!" Jeph shouts, looking and a bit irritated.
"Can I ask you something," Mikey says sweetly.
"Sure."
"If we ever get to the chance, will you have a threesome with me and Mark Hoppus?"
"Only, my dear, if you have a threesome with me and Nick Carter."
Okay... So I really grow to hate this fic =/
Don't hate me and please comment.
Author: Emelie
Pairing: Jeph/Mikey
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Mikey and Jeph has different opinions about Blink 182, bass playing and Mark Hoppus.
Warning: Bad humour. Blink 182.
Note: I love Mikey and all, but I don’t think he has any bass playing style. Jeph has though. And I love Mark Hoppus. And remember, this is not to be taken seriously, it’s just for fun. As far as I know this is not true and Mikey’s not obsessed with Mark Hoppus.
This is for my own bass playing DeLonge, I made her laugh and that was the main purpose (Hoppus på dig!). A huge thank you to the wonderful _hellyes for beta <3
I'm sorry I forgot, you might be intresed in seeing this picture before reading this...
The music is blaring in the empty bus, filling every corner of it with its fast but sticky melodies. This is the best part of the day, Mikey thinks to himself, stretching out in his bunk. He loves the times when he's all alone in the tour bus, times that do not appear too often. Times when he can just lie in his bed, relaxing and listen to whatever music he likes to.
Especially since the other guys seems to have as favourite occupation to tease him for his taste in music. There are just some CDs that aren't supposed to be played aloud, it seems. And listening to music with headphones just doesn't give the same feeling.
He hums along to the song, looking at the ceiling above him, almost drifting off to sleep. But the sound of the door to the bus getting opened and then slammed shut drags him to the land of the awake. He looks out from the shadows of his bunk to see who the dark lord may have sent to disturb his time alone. What meets his eyes is a smiling Jeph.
While alone time is great, alone time with Jeph is even better. But right now Mikey just wants to be alone, by himself. Even though seeing Jeph still makes his heart jolt.
"Hey honey, what's up?" Jeph asks.
"I'm trying to take a nap, but some rude, over-tattooed guy just disturbed me."
"I love you too. Can I join you?"
Mikey moves into the dark corner of his bunk, making room for Jeph to lie beside him. Jeph kicks of his shoes before cuddling up beside Mikey's thin body. It's a good thing Mikey's so thin, he thinks, or he would have problems fitting into the bunk beside him.
"How can you listen to this music?" he asks, knowing how much it will irritate Mikey.
Mikey yawns and peers at the man resting beside him. "I like it, if you can't stand it you can go."
"It's just cheap ass immature pop," Jeph smiles cheekily.
"You're so mean," Mikey mutters and turns his back to Jeph, who putts his arm over Mikey's stomach, rubbing it softly through his t-shirt.
"Don't get all sulky now," he whispers into Mikey's ear, "I love you even though you love Blink 182."
Mikey murmurs something and although it’s impossible to make out, Jeph thinks he’s saying something about wanting to take his nap now.
Mikey sighs, at least he didn't turn the CD off, that's a good sign. He loves to listen to immature pop-punk, there's something about Blink 182 that makes him totally relaxed. There's no brain involved, he needs that for a change. If only Jeph could understand that.
*
Mikey studies Jeph as he looks at the CD booklet. They are still alone in the bus, but now sitting up in his bunk. Jeph looks suspicious at the cover picture of a young blonde woman, making a displeased noise as he lets his breath out through his nose. He opens the booklet and unfolds it, the sound turning into giggles as a line of men in all shapes and sizes can be seen, all of them posing in their underwear.
"Really Mikey," he laughs, "This looks like a commercial for a bad porn movie!"
Mikey gives him a killing glare, "It's not the cover that counts, it's the music inside!"
"If only the music held a higher standard."
Mikey sighs, sometimes he debates starting to wear a Blink 182 t-shirt all the time instead for his old Anthrax shirt. It’s not that he doesn’t love Anthrax anymore, it’s just that he enjoys getting Jeph back for the teasing even more. And besides, the Anthrax shirt has started to get quite smelly.
"So who's that Hoppus guy anyway?" Jeph asks scanning the line of almost naked men, "’cause he is in this picture, right?"
"Yeah, there," Mikey points at one of the men.
"The dude with the thong! Seriously Mikey, how can you fancy a guy posing only wearing a thong that doesn't even fit him?"
"He plays bass," Mikey explains matter-of-factly, "and besides, he's not dressed like that all the time."
"Thank god, I would get nightmares."
"That's him too," Mikey points to the same man, but in a different spot in the picture. He is now wearing white boxers with black dots.
"He looks fat, and he's got a farmers tan."
"That better?" Mikey points at the picture again, but now at the man standing on the far left side of the picture. He is dressed in green boxers with fishes on, sucking in his stomach in a way that makes him look like a concentration camp prisoner.
"That's him again?"
Mikey nods.
"Same old farmers tan. I like that dude better," Jeph points at a guy standing with his back to the camera at the right side of the picture. He is dressed in white boxers with a red heart over his ass. "I want boxers like that."
"That's Tom DeLonge," Mikey giggles. That was the most positive thing Jeph has ever said about Blink 182, and maybe if things continue in this way, Mikey can get him to like Blink 182 after all.
"It is? Dude, he's gro.... he's pretty hot."
"I knew it," Mikey laughs, "you do like them, deep down you do!" he jumps into Jeph's lap screaming, "Hoppus!"
"Stop Hoppus-ing me!" Jeph protests weakly, but wraps his arms around a giggling Mikey to make him stay where he is. He hates it when Mikey does this, jumping at him and screaming "Hoppus!" For some reason unknown to Jeph, Mikey does this at least twice a day. And each time he looks like it's the funniest thing ever. "I just said that to please you."
"You did not," Mikey teases, wiggling his head away from Jeph, who is trying to kiss him.
"I did, so now you have to please me," he says, finally capturing Mikey's lips with his own.
"How rude," Mikey mumbles, kissing Jeph back, causing them both to giggle.
*
Mikey is looking through the cupboards in the small kitchen of the bus, trying to find cups for him and Jeph. He can't understand where his band mates could have lost all the cups, because nothing could possibly disappear in a kitchen this small. Apparently, they have succeeded in that impossible task anyway, so Mikey decides that they have to drink their tea from glasses. He makes his way to the back of the bus where Jeph is sitting on the couch waiting for him.
"Glasses?" he comments suspiciously as he sees Mikey approaching.
"Yeah, I couldn't find any cups. I hope they won't burn our fingers off."
"I doubt so, tea is nice. If it was coffee I bet they would though."
Mikey rolls his eyes while sitting down beside Jeph and putting the glasses down on the table.
"I need to talk to you about something," Jeph says while sipping his tea.
"Yeah, what?" Mikeys asks, feeling a bit uncomfortable as Jeph's expression is more serious than usual.
"Your bass playing."
"My bass playing?"
"Yeah, between us bass players, you really need to work on your playing style."
Mikey looks at Jeph in disbelief, what does this have to do with anything and why does he care at all? It's not like his bass playing affects Jeph in any way. He even had to play that ridiculous tambourine in "Under Pressure" while Jeph was allowed to stick to his bass.
Wait, maybe that was it. Why was he the only one who was taken away from his instrument during that song? If they could have two drummers, then why not two bassists? Right now he can't remember how he ended up playing that tambourine, but he is sure there is something suspicious here.
"I know you never had any proper lessons," Jeph interrupts his thoughts, "and it is very good of you to come as long as you have with only being self learned. But I think it's time for you to get some lessons now to improve your ability. And I am willing to be your teacher."
"I think I'm doing just fine."
"But you look like a scarecrow."
"Now that was just rude!"
"Although I will admit that you're one of the sexiest scarecrows I've seen."
"And that was one of the worst compliments I’ve ever gotten."
"No problem, when you get too old to tour I can use you as an unusual lifelike lawn ornament."
"Jeph, that's not funny!"
"Sorry, I'm just trying to show you how much I love you."
"That was a very strange way of showing it. Let's go back to the subject, what's wrong with my bass playing?"
"You play like a guitarist."
"What's wrong with that?"
"It looks stupid. I've got some bass rules for you."
"Really, I'm excited," Mikey says sarcastically.
"It's quite interesting, really. Rule number one: move a lot."
"But there’s no room, I just bump into the drums or Ger..."
"Shut up. Rule number two: don't use picks."
"But you do."
"Not all the time. Rule number three: don't act like you play guitar."
"I don't!"
"You do. Look here Mikey, the way you move your right hand, and your left too for that matter, shows that you are very influenced by guitar playing. This doesn’t mean the sound comes out worse, it's just a question of style!"
"I have style."
"Not bass style. You have to remember one thing, guitars are great in all ways, but it ain't the same thing as basses."
"Right."
"Like a viola ain't the same thing as a violin."
"What?"
"Never mind, it's like if people comes up to you and calls you Gerard."
"Okay," Mikey gives Jeph a suspicious glare, like he can see no point in what Jeph is saying. "So you say that I should start use the stage as a trampoline, stop using a pick and start holding my bass in a different way?"
"Exactly."
"That means I'm turning into you."
"That wasn't my point really. Just parts of it."
"I'm playing like the god himself does."
"The who?"
"The god, Mark Hoppus. Duh!"
"Actually, he has more bass style than you. But just a bit."
"I'm on the right track. I should start saying my prayers more often." Jeph stares at Mikey in disbelief, who tries to look dead serious, and almost succeeds.
"I hate Mark Hoppus!" Jeph screams suddenly.
"I love Mark Hoppus!"
"No, you love me!"
"I love you, and Mark Hoppus."
"How can I have sex with someone who adores a 30 year old guy who still acts like he's in high school?"
"I hope that was a rhetorical question and I'm not gonna correct you about his age."
"You just did, almost."
"Shut up. Now tell me how I'm going to play this goddamn bass to please you."
"Okay," Jeph takes a breath, suddenly serious. "First, and this is most important, you have to move your right hand less. You have four strings, right? And you usually just play at one at the time, right? Why then move your hand like you have six strings and like you are playing chords where you have to hit all strings? It's a question of laziness, I suppose. Because you'll need the energy in your left hand. Keep your fingers together and don't spread them like you need to reach the whole bass with one hand. Just move your hand like you are stroking the bass instead. Once again, you do not play chords. After that, you just need to start moving around more. Not much, it's okay to just stand almost still and move in pace with the music. Just don't stand still and stare into the distance like some antique Greek philosopher."
"If there was anyone else but you telling me this I would get so pissed. But now it’s you, so now I'm just a bit pissed," Mikey pauses for a moment before continuing. "But why the fuck do I have to do that!?!"
"Because it will improve your skills as a bass player."
"Mark Hoppus plays like me and he's a great bass player."
"Krist Novoselic, he's better and he plays like me."
"Paul McCartney."
"He was originally a guitarist, he doesn't count!"
"He's most famous for playing bass though."
"Whatever. Matt Rubano."
"Pete Wentz."
"Matt Lovato."
"Matt Lova... what?"
"Bassist of Mest."
"Mest? Yeah, that's them with that green haired singer who has a crush on Bert!"
"Like having a crush on Bert is an unusual thing. Everyone's got a crush on Bert."
"Not me. No, wait..." Mikey suddenly looks accusingly at Jeph who looks back wide eyed.
"No, no, not me. I'm not everyone, am I?"
"It would get rather busy for you to be."
"...and besides you have a crush on that Hoppus dude."
"It's not the same. Oh, wait, was that a yes?"
"No!"
"I'll keep an eye on you two. And if you really want me to change my playing style, I think you need to show me how to do it, not only talk about it."
"Sure, let's just finish this tea before it turns into ice tea."
*
A while later Mikey is sitting on the couch, his bass in his lap and Jeph behind him, one leg on either side of him. It isn’t the most comfortable position to play in, but Jeph said it was the best if he should be able to help. Mikey starts playing a few notes that can barely be heard because of the lack of amplifiers.
Jeph moves his right arm around Mikey, grabbing his hand lightly, the same hand that is trying to get any sound out of the quiet instrument.
"Keep playing," he says, "but let me guide your hand. Relax." Mikey does as he's told, finding that it is quite relaxing as Jeph takes control over his playing. His hand is captured in Jeph's while only his fingers can keep moving.
"That's good, baby. Perfect," Jeph purrs, his head resting against Mikey's shoulder so his lips almost touch his ear.
"I'm always good," Mikey answers lazily.
"True." Jeph loosens his grip around Mikey's hand a little. "Now let's get started on your other hand too." Jeph reaches his left arm out to grab Mikey's other hand, going through the same procedure again.
This time Mikey has a harder time following Jeph's lead, his fingers wanting to do their own thing. But after some bad mess-ups, which lead to a horrible sound escaping the poor bass, Jeph seems satisfied. He loosens his grip on Mikey's hands, letting him play on his own.
Mikey tries to keep playing as Jeph showed him, mostly just to please Jeph as he knows that as soon as he gets up on a stage again everything will go back to normal. The sea of screaming people in front of him will fill him with fear and he will stay still in the back, not daring to move much. Because moving is dangerous, and it's not for him. Maybe, just maybe he will wear a Blink 182 t-shirt.
But he will never tell Jeph that, neither about the t-shirt nor the fear. How can he understand that? He, who is shining of confidence as soon as he mounts a stage?
In some way Jeph has managed to move out from behind Mikey without disturbing his playing too much, and he is now sitting cross-legged on the table in front of the couch, watching his pupil. He is smiling to himself, it feels good to see how fast Mikey is learning. He isn't totally relaxed yet and he looks a bit unused to playing this way and the fingers of his left hand are still messing up every now and then as they push down on the strings. But it looks better than he ever expected after such a short period of time. Mikey finally looks like the bassist he is.
Suddenly the familiar melody Mikey is playing turns into something that Jeph doesn't recognise. Something fast and happy. Mikey's fingers move confidently, knowing every single note by heart. His mouth opens, letting out sounds rarely heard, sounds of Mikey singing.
"And that's about the time that bitch hung up on me,
Nobody likes you when you're twenty-three,
And are still more amused by prank phone calls,
What the hell is call ID?
My friends says I should act my age,
What's my age again?
What's my age again?"
To be honest it sounds quite horrible.
"No one should take themselves so seriously,
With many years ahead to fall in line,
Why would you wish that on me?
I never want to act my age,
What's my age again?
What's my age again?"
Mikey finishes with a big smile. "I’ve been practicing for that a long time," he smirks.
"I bet you have" Jeph smiles back, actually quite amused at what he has seen. So much better than the original, he decides. He should get Mikey a guitar instead and than they could run away and open a bar somewhere. Where horny teenage girls could pay him lots of money to get in and see Mikey play crappy songs only dressed in a smile. They would get rich on that.
And maybe sued by that Hoppus guy.
That wouldn't be too bad though, he could just let Mikey wiggle his pretty, none-existent ass and suggest things that wouldn't make him hop for days.
The only problem would be if Hoppus doesn't take those kinds of bribes. If there's a problem he can always dress Mikey up in fake tits and high heels and tell Hoppus that it's not gay at all.
"Earth to Jeph, hello? Anyone at home?" Mikey waves his hand in front of Jeph's eyes.
"Yeah, what?"
"What are you dreaming about?"
"Bribes, Mark Hoppus and fake tits."
Mikey stares at Jeph, "What?"
"You can also put it this way, I'm planning our future."
"Now you're just plain weird."
"Not worse than you." Jeph moves down from the table, taking the bass from Mikey and putting it back in its case. "You're doing great," he smiles, "tomorrow we’ll take lesson number two: how to move. And after that you just have to put the two parts together." He sits down beside Mikey, who sighs. Really, he doesn't care about this at all.
"Hoppus!" he screams, making a quick jump into Jeph's lap.
"Stop Hoppus-ing me, Hoppus freak!" Jeph shouts, looking and a bit irritated.
"Can I ask you something," Mikey says sweetly.
"Sure."
"If we ever get to the chance, will you have a threesome with me and Mark Hoppus?"
"Only, my dear, if you have a threesome with me and Nick Carter."
Okay... So I really grow to hate this fic =/
Don't hate me and please comment.