Better Together (Slash SA)
Title: Better Together
Author: sophie_03
Warnings: slash?
Pairing/s: PoynterJones
Disclaimer: not true, don't own them etc.
Dedication: Jen (mydoctortennant) love you :)
Summary: 'it's always better when we're together...'
Notes: finally posting :)
song is Better Together - Jack Johnson.
Better Together
‘it's always better when we're together
Yeah, we'll look at the stars when we're together
Well, it's always better when we're together’
Doug
So hot here, no rain, haha. Found brill restaurant last night right on beach. Incredible. Se you back in the studio - not long.
Dan xx
He pushed the card into the unfamiliar post box and stood there, just staring at it, as if willing it to move. He sighed and turned away, squinting as the blinding sun hit his eyes. It was too hot here. He wasn’t enjoying it; but he couldn’t admit that, nor could he just go home. It was too soon. He was learning though, that being apart (alone) was so hard.
They were oceans apart, hours away from one another, alone, and he had never thought it would be like this.
The days were beginning to drag, the heat was becoming unbearable. He missed the lush, greenness of England, the familiar sights and home. Home - where he was always only a couple of doors away; and where he could easily find comfort and a friendly face.
Never before had he been apart and realised quite how much he was in love with the small bassist. He was irreplaceable in his life, and it was only him.
He moved slowly through the holiday crowds, treading a path that was now familiar to him, back to a lonely hotel room, out of the heat, which was now stifling and unbearable.
This whole separate holiday thing had always been a bad idea he thought (though whether anyone else felt the same he didn’t know). It didn’t work. The loneliness was worse than he would ever have imagined. They had been apart before, of course they had, but this was so different. He was used to the familiar faces, having a laugh (company, he missed it). Here he was surrounded by strangers.
It wouldn’t reach home for days -the postcard that was - but he had promised. It was just something he had to do. It made him feel better; yet all the same it didn’t feel right, the words were wrong. It had taken so many attempts to get it right - he didn’t want to sound needy or like he was having a shite time, still it was all fake, all wrong.
As he passed another souvenir shop, he felt in his pockets for some coins before picking up another card and going in.
DAN
This place is amazing. See pic on front!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t want to leave! Surfing every day.. Sky diving tomorrow hell yeah! TOO EXCITED
DOUG X
The dark was drawing in. The blond sat, his feet dangling in a warm pool, the sound of the night around him. Bliss.
But it wasn’t. He knew he wouldn’t sleep well. His waking and sleeping thoughts were haunted - by memories, dreams and him. All him. Because this was lonely.
Why was he wasting time sat there alone, when they should have been spending it together? They didn’t have time to waste and if only they could just say. If only they would.
He leaned back and stared at the stars. They were shining particularly brightly that night, so many millions of miles away, distances he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Yet right then, he felt that the guitarist was about that far away from him.
Those stars all that way away, and here Danny and he were, stuck on other sides of the world.
Time was short, you never knew just how much there was, not really; and he was wasting it. Because he loved him. It was mad, but he did.
He took his feet out the water and stood up, stretching his arms above his head as he did so. Time to go in. Not bed, because he wasn’t sleeping (His excuse, jetlag. Still. Wouldn’t work forever, his friends were already unbelieving of that particular excuse. And it would only be time.)
Love sick?
Was that it?
Was he love sick?
(And pathetic, he told himself.)
It was ironic really. So desperate to get away and now, here he was, hating it because he was lonely and he missed him.
He walked slowly into the house, listening to the sound of his bare wet feet against the tiles as he padded gently to his room. He stripped down to his boxers and lay on his bed, listening to the faint sound of his friend’s snores through the wall. It was almost comforting. Almost, because he could sort of pretend it was Danny in there sleeping. Yet that only got him thinking of his friend again and he didn’t need that.
He closed his eyes but all he saw was Danny.
Danny laughing.
Danny smiling.
Danny frowning.
Danny playing guitar.
Danny cooking.
Danny concentrating.
Danny…
It was useless.
*
It didn’t take Danny long to pack up the few possessions he had brought with him, then he was heading for the airport, and away from the hot, horrid country. And soon he was on a plane.
Earlier than he meant to be, but alone was no fun. Not what he’d thought.
He was home days early.
There was a postcard lying on his door mat when he arrived and he picked it up in surprise, reading the words over and over, trying to bleed them for something. Propping it on a table he then paced his flat, finding it just as empty as the hotel room. It was a different kind of loneliness though, because this was his. He knew this. This was something else.
And now he was just counting down the days… there was nothing he could.
The plane landed ridiculously early in the morning. Dougie got up, stretching his legs and then his arms and took his hand luggage out the locker above his head. Wearily he followed the rest of his fellow travellers off the plane, not really aware where he was. He followed them through air conditioned tunnels, corridors - busy everyday life (at least for an airport). Through passport control… then baggage… then the gate.
He could see fresh air beckoning him, the promise of a taxi and home, but just maybe a coffee - or did he want to get home first? Tricky decision. Almost as if he was there he could hear Tom saying ‘coffee!’ And Danny… what would Danny say? He was lost in thought, dragging his bag behind him, just following other people. Caffeine… bed… Danny. That’s what he needed. But Danny was still away on holiday. He was back later that day.
‘Doug?’
Danny was here?
Dougie spun round. He’d walked straight past him somehow, maybe because he really hadn’t been expecting him.
‘Dan?’
‘Doug!’ Danny was grinning broadly.
‘What? Huh?’ his mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be.
Danny seemed pleased to see him, as if he’d been waiting for this. Maybe he had? He wished.
‘How did you know I’d be here?’
‘Never mind that,’ Danny said pulling him in for a hug.
It was nice, the hug. It seemed to say everything that Danny hadn’t really put into words. Dougie smiled into his shoulder. And suddenly the world seemed alive again.
‘You look like you’re ‘bout to fall asleep on your feet mate.’ Danny laughed, taking his hand and dragging him in the direction of a coffee shop Dougie had been considering. He smiled, remembering to pick up his bag again and trail it after him as they headed for a well needed caffeine fix.
It really was better when they were together.
Author: sophie_03
Warnings: slash?
Pairing/s: PoynterJones
Disclaimer: not true, don't own them etc.
Dedication: Jen (mydoctortennant) love you :)
Summary: 'it's always better when we're together...'
Notes: finally posting :)
song is Better Together - Jack Johnson.
Better Together
‘it's always better when we're together
Yeah, we'll look at the stars when we're together
Well, it's always better when we're together’
Doug
So hot here, no rain, haha. Found brill restaurant last night right on beach. Incredible. Se you back in the studio - not long.
Dan xx
He pushed the card into the unfamiliar post box and stood there, just staring at it, as if willing it to move. He sighed and turned away, squinting as the blinding sun hit his eyes. It was too hot here. He wasn’t enjoying it; but he couldn’t admit that, nor could he just go home. It was too soon. He was learning though, that being apart (alone) was so hard.
They were oceans apart, hours away from one another, alone, and he had never thought it would be like this.
The days were beginning to drag, the heat was becoming unbearable. He missed the lush, greenness of England, the familiar sights and home. Home - where he was always only a couple of doors away; and where he could easily find comfort and a friendly face.
Never before had he been apart and realised quite how much he was in love with the small bassist. He was irreplaceable in his life, and it was only him.
He moved slowly through the holiday crowds, treading a path that was now familiar to him, back to a lonely hotel room, out of the heat, which was now stifling and unbearable.
This whole separate holiday thing had always been a bad idea he thought (though whether anyone else felt the same he didn’t know). It didn’t work. The loneliness was worse than he would ever have imagined. They had been apart before, of course they had, but this was so different. He was used to the familiar faces, having a laugh (company, he missed it). Here he was surrounded by strangers.
It wouldn’t reach home for days -the postcard that was - but he had promised. It was just something he had to do. It made him feel better; yet all the same it didn’t feel right, the words were wrong. It had taken so many attempts to get it right - he didn’t want to sound needy or like he was having a shite time, still it was all fake, all wrong.
As he passed another souvenir shop, he felt in his pockets for some coins before picking up another card and going in.
DAN
This place is amazing. See pic on front!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t want to leave! Surfing every day.. Sky diving tomorrow hell yeah! TOO EXCITED
DOUG X
The dark was drawing in. The blond sat, his feet dangling in a warm pool, the sound of the night around him. Bliss.
But it wasn’t. He knew he wouldn’t sleep well. His waking and sleeping thoughts were haunted - by memories, dreams and him. All him. Because this was lonely.
Why was he wasting time sat there alone, when they should have been spending it together? They didn’t have time to waste and if only they could just say. If only they would.
He leaned back and stared at the stars. They were shining particularly brightly that night, so many millions of miles away, distances he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Yet right then, he felt that the guitarist was about that far away from him.
Those stars all that way away, and here Danny and he were, stuck on other sides of the world.
Time was short, you never knew just how much there was, not really; and he was wasting it. Because he loved him. It was mad, but he did.
He took his feet out the water and stood up, stretching his arms above his head as he did so. Time to go in. Not bed, because he wasn’t sleeping (His excuse, jetlag. Still. Wouldn’t work forever, his friends were already unbelieving of that particular excuse. And it would only be time.)
Love sick?
Was that it?
Was he love sick?
(And pathetic, he told himself.)
It was ironic really. So desperate to get away and now, here he was, hating it because he was lonely and he missed him.
He walked slowly into the house, listening to the sound of his bare wet feet against the tiles as he padded gently to his room. He stripped down to his boxers and lay on his bed, listening to the faint sound of his friend’s snores through the wall. It was almost comforting. Almost, because he could sort of pretend it was Danny in there sleeping. Yet that only got him thinking of his friend again and he didn’t need that.
He closed his eyes but all he saw was Danny.
Danny laughing.
Danny smiling.
Danny frowning.
Danny playing guitar.
Danny cooking.
Danny concentrating.
Danny…
It was useless.
*
It didn’t take Danny long to pack up the few possessions he had brought with him, then he was heading for the airport, and away from the hot, horrid country. And soon he was on a plane.
Earlier than he meant to be, but alone was no fun. Not what he’d thought.
He was home days early.
There was a postcard lying on his door mat when he arrived and he picked it up in surprise, reading the words over and over, trying to bleed them for something. Propping it on a table he then paced his flat, finding it just as empty as the hotel room. It was a different kind of loneliness though, because this was his. He knew this. This was something else.
And now he was just counting down the days… there was nothing he could.
The plane landed ridiculously early in the morning. Dougie got up, stretching his legs and then his arms and took his hand luggage out the locker above his head. Wearily he followed the rest of his fellow travellers off the plane, not really aware where he was. He followed them through air conditioned tunnels, corridors - busy everyday life (at least for an airport). Through passport control… then baggage… then the gate.
He could see fresh air beckoning him, the promise of a taxi and home, but just maybe a coffee - or did he want to get home first? Tricky decision. Almost as if he was there he could hear Tom saying ‘coffee!’ And Danny… what would Danny say? He was lost in thought, dragging his bag behind him, just following other people. Caffeine… bed… Danny. That’s what he needed. But Danny was still away on holiday. He was back later that day.
‘Doug?’
Danny was here?
Dougie spun round. He’d walked straight past him somehow, maybe because he really hadn’t been expecting him.
‘Dan?’
‘Doug!’ Danny was grinning broadly.
‘What? Huh?’ his mind was playing tricks on him. It had to be.
Danny seemed pleased to see him, as if he’d been waiting for this. Maybe he had? He wished.
‘How did you know I’d be here?’
‘Never mind that,’ Danny said pulling him in for a hug.
It was nice, the hug. It seemed to say everything that Danny hadn’t really put into words. Dougie smiled into his shoulder. And suddenly the world seemed alive again.
‘You look like you’re ‘bout to fall asleep on your feet mate.’ Danny laughed, taking his hand and dragging him in the direction of a coffee shop Dougie had been considering. He smiled, remembering to pick up his bag again and trail it after him as they headed for a well needed caffeine fix.
It really was better when they were together.