i’ll sing you something you won’t forget
title: i’ll sing you something you won’t forget
rating: pg
pairing: sean/tom
author: me! (mindscomeloose)
word count: just over 800
disclaimer: i [unfortunately] own none of the members of empires. this never happened.
credit: TAI for the title
summary: he’s worried that it will be downloaded and dismissed. that people won’t think it’s memorable, that they’ll think it’s disposable, cliché’, mainstream, even though he knows in his gut it isn’t true and that they’ve tried their absolute hardest to prevent that.
~
sean sleeps with his toes outside the blanket. it’s things like this that tom notices as he lies awake. howl had just gone up yesterday and while he’d promised, sworn up and down that he wouldn’t check it until noon the following day, tom actually has to consciously prevent himself from getting up and obsessively checking myspace, refreshing the page until his fingers hurt. sean had told him that he’d jinx it or just end up disappointed, like when you go to a movie and turn on your phone when you get out to find that you have no new calls or texts and you feel like you’ve scarcely been missed. sean’s as nervous as he is, just better at hiding it. everything feels so new.
he isn’t worried that it won’t get downloaded; he has enough famous friends to ensure it gets around. he’s worried that it will be downloaded and dismissed. that people won’t think it’s memorable, that they’ll think it’s disposable, cliché’, mainstream, even though he knows in his gut it isn’t true and that they’ve tried their absolute hardest to prevent that. but another part of him thinks that if all they can make is that kind of music, then he’s satisfied. because it’s what they want.
a warm hand closes around his wrist.
“don’t.” tom knows sean is patient, will answer any stupid, mundane, insecure question tom has, at any hour, but broken promises he does not like and will not take.
his mind has not stopped making plans - they have two computers, one of which almost always gets internet - but sean’s made his point, and tom knows that he isn’t going to check, even if it means lying here for the next eight or so hours making justifications to himself that even he admitted were silly.
~
tom’s first surprise of the morning is that he’d actually caught a few winks; sean has to wake him up. even better, he’d made coffee and tom could swear the scent of it is drawing him from his half-asleep daze. tom sits up in bed, accepting the mug from sean.
“two of my favourite things. coffee. and you.” he leans down to kiss the crown of sean’s head, appreciating how sean leans into it, catlike. “did you...”
“no, dude. i wouldn’t. it’s all waiting for you.” tom isn’t sure if he’s supposed to pick up the nuance in the last syllable or if he’s just imagined it. tom tries to do some calculations in his head: which computer was faster, or at least more reliable? he gave up and threw off the covers, making a beeline for the living room. tom’s slightly-less-crappy laptop glares at him from the couch and tom places it on the kitchen table ceremoniously. “can i do it? you’ll probably get nervous and crash the whole thing.” sean imposed delicately.
tom might have been put off by anyone else, but this was sean. sean, who expressed the innermost workings of his mind through his writing, and who had, in turn, shared that writing with tom to be dissected, taken apart and put back together. in the past year they’d done a lot of that.
sean also has a valid point; the coffee is giving tom the jitters, as it tended to if his first cup wasn’t decaf. he relinquishes the chair to sean and turns his back to refill his beverage. in two impossibly long minutes, sean has the computer up and humming. tom spends those minutes in his head, silently expressing his worries and then consoling himself one final time. he hooks his chin on sean’s shoulder as he watches the screen change from the desktop (their band promo involving e’s of different scales, and lots of red paint), to the yahoo! homepage, to the myspace homepage. when sean messes up the password, tom thinks he’s going to combust. and when sean gets it right, tom wants to propose right there.
while the number of listens from the past thirty-four hours is truly impressive, it isn’t what has tom transfixed. it is the comments, more than twenty from the past day stretching down the page.
i can’t wait for the next record!
this was so worth the wait.
i can’t wait until you start touring again!
you guys have become my new favourite band. howl made it official.
they liked it. tom feels his face curve into a grin, a real one.
in one swift movement, sean is out of his chair, arms around tom. to hold him up or embrace him, tom isn’t sure.
“we did it. we really did it.”
rating: pg
pairing: sean/tom
author: me! (mindscomeloose)
word count: just over 800
disclaimer: i [unfortunately] own none of the members of empires. this never happened.
credit: TAI for the title
summary: he’s worried that it will be downloaded and dismissed. that people won’t think it’s memorable, that they’ll think it’s disposable, cliché’, mainstream, even though he knows in his gut it isn’t true and that they’ve tried their absolute hardest to prevent that.
~
sean sleeps with his toes outside the blanket. it’s things like this that tom notices as he lies awake. howl had just gone up yesterday and while he’d promised, sworn up and down that he wouldn’t check it until noon the following day, tom actually has to consciously prevent himself from getting up and obsessively checking myspace, refreshing the page until his fingers hurt. sean had told him that he’d jinx it or just end up disappointed, like when you go to a movie and turn on your phone when you get out to find that you have no new calls or texts and you feel like you’ve scarcely been missed. sean’s as nervous as he is, just better at hiding it. everything feels so new.
he isn’t worried that it won’t get downloaded; he has enough famous friends to ensure it gets around. he’s worried that it will be downloaded and dismissed. that people won’t think it’s memorable, that they’ll think it’s disposable, cliché’, mainstream, even though he knows in his gut it isn’t true and that they’ve tried their absolute hardest to prevent that. but another part of him thinks that if all they can make is that kind of music, then he’s satisfied. because it’s what they want.
a warm hand closes around his wrist.
“don’t.” tom knows sean is patient, will answer any stupid, mundane, insecure question tom has, at any hour, but broken promises he does not like and will not take.
his mind has not stopped making plans - they have two computers, one of which almost always gets internet - but sean’s made his point, and tom knows that he isn’t going to check, even if it means lying here for the next eight or so hours making justifications to himself that even he admitted were silly.
~
tom’s first surprise of the morning is that he’d actually caught a few winks; sean has to wake him up. even better, he’d made coffee and tom could swear the scent of it is drawing him from his half-asleep daze. tom sits up in bed, accepting the mug from sean.
“two of my favourite things. coffee. and you.” he leans down to kiss the crown of sean’s head, appreciating how sean leans into it, catlike. “did you...”
“no, dude. i wouldn’t. it’s all waiting for you.” tom isn’t sure if he’s supposed to pick up the nuance in the last syllable or if he’s just imagined it. tom tries to do some calculations in his head: which computer was faster, or at least more reliable? he gave up and threw off the covers, making a beeline for the living room. tom’s slightly-less-crappy laptop glares at him from the couch and tom places it on the kitchen table ceremoniously. “can i do it? you’ll probably get nervous and crash the whole thing.” sean imposed delicately.
tom might have been put off by anyone else, but this was sean. sean, who expressed the innermost workings of his mind through his writing, and who had, in turn, shared that writing with tom to be dissected, taken apart and put back together. in the past year they’d done a lot of that.
sean also has a valid point; the coffee is giving tom the jitters, as it tended to if his first cup wasn’t decaf. he relinquishes the chair to sean and turns his back to refill his beverage. in two impossibly long minutes, sean has the computer up and humming. tom spends those minutes in his head, silently expressing his worries and then consoling himself one final time. he hooks his chin on sean’s shoulder as he watches the screen change from the desktop (their band promo involving e’s of different scales, and lots of red paint), to the yahoo! homepage, to the myspace homepage. when sean messes up the password, tom thinks he’s going to combust. and when sean gets it right, tom wants to propose right there.
while the number of listens from the past thirty-four hours is truly impressive, it isn’t what has tom transfixed. it is the comments, more than twenty from the past day stretching down the page.
i can’t wait for the next record!
this was so worth the wait.
i can’t wait until you start touring again!
you guys have become my new favourite band. howl made it official.
they liked it. tom feels his face curve into a grin, a real one.
in one swift movement, sean is out of his chair, arms around tom. to hold him up or embrace him, tom isn’t sure.
“we did it. we really did it.”