My private life is an inside joke
Title: Jamming
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: G
Summary: It was never referred to as band practice when they were alone.
Written for the letter J on my ABC prompt list.
It was never referred to as band practice when they were alone, it was always just jamming. The two of them, alone in whoever’s bedroom it happened to be, with their guitars in hand. They’d run through song after song, classics that they had mastered long before their hands grew to fit the necks of their beloved instruments. Sometimes they’d throw in a new song, usually started by the smaller of the two and quickly joined by the other boy. They’d end up in fits of laughter at the attempts to play these new songs, crumpled around their guitars with smiles flooding their flushed faces.
It was never band practice because they were never a band, at least, not when it was just the two of them. Because to be a band you had to have more people. You needed a drummer, a bassist and a singer because two guitarists couldn’t really make up a band by themselves. Besides, if they had been a real band then practices could never have ended the way that jamming ended. Practices would’ve ended with farewells and threats to the other members to polish off that last section. Jamming ended with soft kisses and arms curled around each other. It ended with whispers of ‘I love you’ and promises that one day they would be a real band. Jamming was exactly that, hopeful thoughts and time spent with each other. Just the two of them.
Author: Logan
Pairing: young!Billie/Mike
Rating: G
Summary: It was never referred to as band practice when they were alone.
Written for the letter J on my ABC prompt list.
It was never referred to as band practice when they were alone, it was always just jamming. The two of them, alone in whoever’s bedroom it happened to be, with their guitars in hand. They’d run through song after song, classics that they had mastered long before their hands grew to fit the necks of their beloved instruments. Sometimes they’d throw in a new song, usually started by the smaller of the two and quickly joined by the other boy. They’d end up in fits of laughter at the attempts to play these new songs, crumpled around their guitars with smiles flooding their flushed faces.
It was never band practice because they were never a band, at least, not when it was just the two of them. Because to be a band you had to have more people. You needed a drummer, a bassist and a singer because two guitarists couldn’t really make up a band by themselves. Besides, if they had been a real band then practices could never have ended the way that jamming ended. Practices would’ve ended with farewells and threats to the other members to polish off that last section. Jamming ended with soft kisses and arms curled around each other. It ended with whispers of ‘I love you’ and promises that one day they would be a real band. Jamming was exactly that, hopeful thoughts and time spent with each other. Just the two of them.