Fic: Collide and Burn [Dekelly, pg-13, one-shot]
Title: Collide and Burn
Author: Zach // tinkertoo
Pairing: Lee DeWyze/Aaron Kelly
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 1809
Summary: One night and everything goes all wrong, Aaron just wishes he could fix it.
Warnings: angst? and some heavy kissing
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone mentioned in this, they are American Idol's their own people, and this is a completely fake work of fiction.
A/N: I don't know where this came from and that's all I have to say about it. Italicized bits are the past, while normal font is the present.
Aaron would really like to know what’s wrong with Lee.
Actually, maybe more than that, he’d like to know what’s wrong with himself.
”You can fly!” He’s laughing for the first time since this whole process started as Lee picks him up off the floor and carries him around the house, repeating his chant of “You can fly! You can fly!” through Aaron’s laughter.
They’re alone in the house. Everyone else had gone out for post-performance show/pre-elimination show drinks, but Aaron wasn’t even old enough to pretend he was old enough to get in, and Lee had come back early only a little tipsy so Aaron wouldn’t have to be alone. The smile hasn’t left Aaron’s face since Lee walked through the door and gave him the biggest hug in the world.
It made him think things would be okay.
Lee’s been avoiding him. And he can’t just pass it off like Lee’s busy or he’s busy or they haven’t crossed paths yet, not after he saw Lee’s eyes land on him for a brief second in the hallway before he’d bolted in the other direction.
He’s pretty sure he didn’t do anything wrong. But Lee’s behavior brings all sorts of insecurities back that he thought he’d gotten over after making it on the show, after being told he was good so much that maybe he had actually started believing it.
Lee raises him high over his head one more time before he pulls Aaron back down and in close to his chest. Aaron can smell the faint hint of alcohol on his breath but it combines with his cologne and just makes the moment more intimate. He leans in closer, head resting on Lee’s shoulder. Lee turns his head and he can not only smell the alcohol, but he can feel Lee’s breath ghost across his cheek, warm and comforting. He leans closer to the feeling, not really thinking about his actions.
He’s not sure who makes the final move, but suddenly Lee’s lips are against his, wet and warm and he can taste alcohol and something else that can only be defined as Lee.
He reaches out for comfort. It’s only natural, because it’s so very painfully obvious which one of them is safe and which one is going to have to wait nearly two hours to hear his fate. All he wants is a hug, or an arm or something. He’d even take a sympathetic look in his direction over what he gets: Lee completely rejecting him, moving out of both of his attempts and just shrugging it off as he goes back to the couches.
He wishes that was all he saw. But no, he had to look up at the exact moment that Lee’s hand is not so inconspicuously running up Siobhan’s thigh and he has to catch some look that he’s not even sure how to interpret in Lee’s eyes before the older man turns his attention back to the floor.
Lee’s lips pressed against his, Lee’s hands holding onto him like he was a lifeline, it’s better than flying. It’s like floating, rising up above the air, going away from all his troubles to focus on just that moment. Focus just on Lee’s lips moving from his mouth, going down to his neck, hands slipping up his shirt, fingers spreading heat through every inch of Aaron’s skin. It’s flying and floating and burning in the best way. It doesn’t matter that he’s never done anything like this, it doesn’t matter that Lee’s a little drunk (and maybe stoned? if that look in his eyes is anything to go by). It just matters that Lee’s touching him and lighting him up and it’s like heaven.
He tries again when he’s sent back to the couches. He goes to Lee for a hug, hopeful look in his eyes and hiding heartbreak.
Lee pretends he doesn’t see him. His eyes stare straight ahead, to the center of the stage and Aaron would like to pretend he’s not looking at Casey and Tim. He’d like to pretend that he doesn’t see Lee’s brain working, see how he’s trying to picture other scenarios in his head that probably involve him still standing there, being put through more hell as he waits for his fate.
Dejected, he goes to the other side of the couch, allowing himself to be pulled into Crystal’s comforting embrace with little resistance. It’s not the contact he wants, though, and his eyes stay on Lee for the rest of the show, rejection and hurt mixing with the hope in his gaze. Wonder of what he did wrong and what he could do differently.
He doesn’t want to stop it. He’d even let himself be carried up the stairs and dumped into Lee’s bed before the older musician pounced on him, lips on his again but hotter, more rushed. Aaron’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do, just lets his hands grip at Lee’s shirt while Lee does all the work, makes his body heat up, burn from the inside out and it starts to be unbearable, starts to feel like too much, too soon.
In an instant, Lee’s got his own shirt off and Aaron’s grasping at bare skin. He can feel his small nails scratching at flesh but it just elicits these deep growls of pleasure from Lee’s mouth and he’s pushing down harder, kissing Aaron like his life depended on it and pulling at his clothes, trying to get skin on skin contact.
It’s too much. He gets an opening when Lee moves back to try to get Aaron’s shirt over his head and he finally stops him, pushing him away and whispering the word, “Wait.”
He doesn’t even try on the ride back. He just slumps into the backseat, between Crystal’s comforting embrace and the window and does not look to the other side of the seat to see Lee staring out the window, deep in thought about something. He doesn’t notice the way Lee subconsciously runs a hand over his tattoo while he’s thinking and he doesn’t notice the saddened look on his face.
Maybe it would’ve been better if Tim had been safe, and he’d gone instead. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to keep finding out what rejection feels like. Once was enough, thank you, and this is just adding to the sting.
”What’s wrong?” The concern in Lee’s voice comforts Aaron and makes him feel a little better about stopping whatever this is.
“Just... too fast.” He feels so tiny, trapped underneath Lee’s body and rejecting what he knows he wants. But so many what ifs are playing through his head and he just needs a minute, really, then they can go back to what they were doing and it’ll be okay.
Except, Lee merely nods, and is moving away from him. Aaron reaches out, hand meeting the warm skin of Lee’s back before he can climb off the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lee’s whispering, almost to himself but the words reach Aaron’s ears.
“No, no, just, stay, please?” Aaron still feels very small, sitting in the middle of Lee’s bed, trying to convince Lee to stay, while his words only sound like whispers in his own ears.
His bed feels foreign as he climbs beneath the covers, trying to curl into himself and hide beneath the soft cotton covering him. But maybe that’s just because everything feels so wrong to him right now. Things had been going so well, maybe not in the direction he’d wanted, but at least Lee was talking to him.
The night replays in his head like a bad movie and he can’t get it out. He’s trying to analyze every move, every word to figure out where he went wrong.
Lee curls back into him, but seems reluctant to do so. Aaron gets no response, no reaction when he lays his head on Lee’s chest and places soft, tender kisses to his skin. Only a sigh and Lee turning away from him, pretty much pushing him away.
Aaron gets the hint. His eyes stay on Lee as he crawls out of the bed and leaves the room, only focusing on where he’s going once Lee’s figure is out of sight.
He sleeps on the couch and tries to tell himself that he didn’t make a huge mistake and that, in the morning, everything will be back to normal. He spends a horrible amount of time trying to convince himself that Lee was very drunk and that he won’t remember the night’s events when he wakes up. He spends even more time trying to tell himself that it was right, what he did, that he wasn’t ready yet but all he can think of are Lee’s hands and Lee’s lips and the feeling of Lee’s body on top of his and he wishes he had enough courage to walk back up the stairs and crawl into bed with Lee. He doesn’t.
It’s 3am when Aaron finally decides it’s time for some courage. He can’t take just laying in bed, wondering what could have happened.
Quietly, he tiptoes out of bed and down the hallway, straight to the scene of the crime.
It doesn’t really surprise him that Lee’s awake, or that he’s got a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, notebook spread in his lap. Lee always struck him as a night owl, and he recalls one conversation where Lee said he writes at his best in the middle of the night when he’s sleep deprived.
Lee gets a pained look in his eyes when they meet Aaron’s, but he can’t let that stop him.
“I’m sorry.” This time the words leave Aaron’s mouth as he shuts the door behind him and ventures further into the room. “About last night,” he can hear his voice getting smaller, fear replacing what little courage he had.
“No.” For a minute, it’s all Aaron thinks he’s going to say, and he’s about to turn and leave when Lee opens his mouth again. “No, I’m sorry. Last night was... I was wrong. I shouldn’t have... it was... I’m sorry.”
Aaron sighs and takes a second, just a second, to try and gain any bit of his courage back. It’s either that or blind stupidity that allows him to move, climb onto the bed and take Lee’s face in his hands, force the older man to look at him.
“Can we start over? Please? I don’t like this whole you avoiding me thing.”
There’s the ghost of a smile on Lee’s lips as he slowly nods and relief washes over Aaron. He finds himself leaning closer, letting his lips brush Lee’s for a brief second before he pulls back to settle onto the bed next to him.
Author: Zach // tinkertoo
Pairing: Lee DeWyze/Aaron Kelly
Rating: pg-13
Word Count: 1809
Summary: One night and everything goes all wrong, Aaron just wishes he could fix it.
Warnings: angst? and some heavy kissing
Disclaimer: Don't own anyone mentioned in this, they are American Idol's their own people, and this is a completely fake work of fiction.
A/N: I don't know where this came from and that's all I have to say about it. Italicized bits are the past, while normal font is the present.
Aaron would really like to know what’s wrong with Lee.
Actually, maybe more than that, he’d like to know what’s wrong with himself.
”You can fly!” He’s laughing for the first time since this whole process started as Lee picks him up off the floor and carries him around the house, repeating his chant of “You can fly! You can fly!” through Aaron’s laughter.
They’re alone in the house. Everyone else had gone out for post-performance show/pre-elimination show drinks, but Aaron wasn’t even old enough to pretend he was old enough to get in, and Lee had come back early only a little tipsy so Aaron wouldn’t have to be alone. The smile hasn’t left Aaron’s face since Lee walked through the door and gave him the biggest hug in the world.
It made him think things would be okay.
Lee’s been avoiding him. And he can’t just pass it off like Lee’s busy or he’s busy or they haven’t crossed paths yet, not after he saw Lee’s eyes land on him for a brief second in the hallway before he’d bolted in the other direction.
He’s pretty sure he didn’t do anything wrong. But Lee’s behavior brings all sorts of insecurities back that he thought he’d gotten over after making it on the show, after being told he was good so much that maybe he had actually started believing it.
Lee raises him high over his head one more time before he pulls Aaron back down and in close to his chest. Aaron can smell the faint hint of alcohol on his breath but it combines with his cologne and just makes the moment more intimate. He leans in closer, head resting on Lee’s shoulder. Lee turns his head and he can not only smell the alcohol, but he can feel Lee’s breath ghost across his cheek, warm and comforting. He leans closer to the feeling, not really thinking about his actions.
He’s not sure who makes the final move, but suddenly Lee’s lips are against his, wet and warm and he can taste alcohol and something else that can only be defined as Lee.
He reaches out for comfort. It’s only natural, because it’s so very painfully obvious which one of them is safe and which one is going to have to wait nearly two hours to hear his fate. All he wants is a hug, or an arm or something. He’d even take a sympathetic look in his direction over what he gets: Lee completely rejecting him, moving out of both of his attempts and just shrugging it off as he goes back to the couches.
He wishes that was all he saw. But no, he had to look up at the exact moment that Lee’s hand is not so inconspicuously running up Siobhan’s thigh and he has to catch some look that he’s not even sure how to interpret in Lee’s eyes before the older man turns his attention back to the floor.
Lee’s lips pressed against his, Lee’s hands holding onto him like he was a lifeline, it’s better than flying. It’s like floating, rising up above the air, going away from all his troubles to focus on just that moment. Focus just on Lee’s lips moving from his mouth, going down to his neck, hands slipping up his shirt, fingers spreading heat through every inch of Aaron’s skin. It’s flying and floating and burning in the best way. It doesn’t matter that he’s never done anything like this, it doesn’t matter that Lee’s a little drunk (and maybe stoned? if that look in his eyes is anything to go by). It just matters that Lee’s touching him and lighting him up and it’s like heaven.
He tries again when he’s sent back to the couches. He goes to Lee for a hug, hopeful look in his eyes and hiding heartbreak.
Lee pretends he doesn’t see him. His eyes stare straight ahead, to the center of the stage and Aaron would like to pretend he’s not looking at Casey and Tim. He’d like to pretend that he doesn’t see Lee’s brain working, see how he’s trying to picture other scenarios in his head that probably involve him still standing there, being put through more hell as he waits for his fate.
Dejected, he goes to the other side of the couch, allowing himself to be pulled into Crystal’s comforting embrace with little resistance. It’s not the contact he wants, though, and his eyes stay on Lee for the rest of the show, rejection and hurt mixing with the hope in his gaze. Wonder of what he did wrong and what he could do differently.
He doesn’t want to stop it. He’d even let himself be carried up the stairs and dumped into Lee’s bed before the older musician pounced on him, lips on his again but hotter, more rushed. Aaron’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do, just lets his hands grip at Lee’s shirt while Lee does all the work, makes his body heat up, burn from the inside out and it starts to be unbearable, starts to feel like too much, too soon.
In an instant, Lee’s got his own shirt off and Aaron’s grasping at bare skin. He can feel his small nails scratching at flesh but it just elicits these deep growls of pleasure from Lee’s mouth and he’s pushing down harder, kissing Aaron like his life depended on it and pulling at his clothes, trying to get skin on skin contact.
It’s too much. He gets an opening when Lee moves back to try to get Aaron’s shirt over his head and he finally stops him, pushing him away and whispering the word, “Wait.”
He doesn’t even try on the ride back. He just slumps into the backseat, between Crystal’s comforting embrace and the window and does not look to the other side of the seat to see Lee staring out the window, deep in thought about something. He doesn’t notice the way Lee subconsciously runs a hand over his tattoo while he’s thinking and he doesn’t notice the saddened look on his face.
Maybe it would’ve been better if Tim had been safe, and he’d gone instead. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to keep finding out what rejection feels like. Once was enough, thank you, and this is just adding to the sting.
”What’s wrong?” The concern in Lee’s voice comforts Aaron and makes him feel a little better about stopping whatever this is.
“Just... too fast.” He feels so tiny, trapped underneath Lee’s body and rejecting what he knows he wants. But so many what ifs are playing through his head and he just needs a minute, really, then they can go back to what they were doing and it’ll be okay.
Except, Lee merely nods, and is moving away from him. Aaron reaches out, hand meeting the warm skin of Lee’s back before he can climb off the bed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Lee’s whispering, almost to himself but the words reach Aaron’s ears.
“No, no, just, stay, please?” Aaron still feels very small, sitting in the middle of Lee’s bed, trying to convince Lee to stay, while his words only sound like whispers in his own ears.
His bed feels foreign as he climbs beneath the covers, trying to curl into himself and hide beneath the soft cotton covering him. But maybe that’s just because everything feels so wrong to him right now. Things had been going so well, maybe not in the direction he’d wanted, but at least Lee was talking to him.
The night replays in his head like a bad movie and he can’t get it out. He’s trying to analyze every move, every word to figure out where he went wrong.
Lee curls back into him, but seems reluctant to do so. Aaron gets no response, no reaction when he lays his head on Lee’s chest and places soft, tender kisses to his skin. Only a sigh and Lee turning away from him, pretty much pushing him away.
Aaron gets the hint. His eyes stay on Lee as he crawls out of the bed and leaves the room, only focusing on where he’s going once Lee’s figure is out of sight.
He sleeps on the couch and tries to tell himself that he didn’t make a huge mistake and that, in the morning, everything will be back to normal. He spends a horrible amount of time trying to convince himself that Lee was very drunk and that he won’t remember the night’s events when he wakes up. He spends even more time trying to tell himself that it was right, what he did, that he wasn’t ready yet but all he can think of are Lee’s hands and Lee’s lips and the feeling of Lee’s body on top of his and he wishes he had enough courage to walk back up the stairs and crawl into bed with Lee. He doesn’t.
It’s 3am when Aaron finally decides it’s time for some courage. He can’t take just laying in bed, wondering what could have happened.
Quietly, he tiptoes out of bed and down the hallway, straight to the scene of the crime.
It doesn’t really surprise him that Lee’s awake, or that he’s got a cigarette in one hand and a pen in the other, notebook spread in his lap. Lee always struck him as a night owl, and he recalls one conversation where Lee said he writes at his best in the middle of the night when he’s sleep deprived.
Lee gets a pained look in his eyes when they meet Aaron’s, but he can’t let that stop him.
“I’m sorry.” This time the words leave Aaron’s mouth as he shuts the door behind him and ventures further into the room. “About last night,” he can hear his voice getting smaller, fear replacing what little courage he had.
“No.” For a minute, it’s all Aaron thinks he’s going to say, and he’s about to turn and leave when Lee opens his mouth again. “No, I’m sorry. Last night was... I was wrong. I shouldn’t have... it was... I’m sorry.”
Aaron sighs and takes a second, just a second, to try and gain any bit of his courage back. It’s either that or blind stupidity that allows him to move, climb onto the bed and take Lee’s face in his hands, force the older man to look at him.
“Can we start over? Please? I don’t like this whole you avoiding me thing.”
There’s the ghost of a smile on Lee’s lips as he slowly nods and relief washes over Aaron. He finds himself leaning closer, letting his lips brush Lee’s for a brief second before he pulls back to settle onto the bed next to him.