You give me Something, Carl/Matt, G
Title:You give me Something
Pairing: Carl Riseley/Matt Corby
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING OMG I'M GOING TO GET SUED
Rating: G
A/N: For simplydelovely. I wanted to write her Gossip Girl but thought this would be more traumatically awesome. Garden Island is the place where all the Navy Ships dock in Sydney, haha, and I have been there twice to eat icecream, omg. Rach is Carl's girlfriend and Ant his brother. Natalie won Australian Idol, Carl + Matt were 3rd and 2nd respectively. ANYWAY ON TO THE CRACK!
"Carl? There's someone here for you."
He's standing on your doorstep.
You're standing in the foyer and all you could do is stare incredulously at him. Unkempt hair, skinny jeans (you thought they were out last season) and massive T-shirt. (Bad hair day, it says, and you want to laugh.)
"Oh God, it's you." His eyes are as bright as they always are, and his grin splits his face as he rushes over and you're hugging him.
Rachel offers drinks and he accepts and you follow him into the kitchen.
Matt Corby is back in town.
**
"So what will you be doing here?" you ask him, climbing up the stairs to the top of Garden Island. (Rachel thought you guys needed alone time and made you get a bucket of ice-cream and spoons and shooed you onto the next ferry while she went shopping at the Rocks).
"Family. Christmas. You know." Fame hasn't gotten into his head then. You tell him so and he shouts from behind you, "Neither have you, Riseley!" and you want very much to turn around and ruffle his hair even though he will probably push you down the stairs you just climbed.
You sit there on the rock platform overlooking the harbour and you tell him everything you remember since you last saw him (you try not to talk about music). You talk about the navy ("Wooloomooloo is right over there - you see that grey ship?") and trumpet playing and catching up with Ben and Daniel and Marty and Natalie (once - she's way too busy) and Rachel and Ant and those bad odes fans still manage to send him and not wanting to cut his hair but not really sure when to cut it when it gets too long.
Matt spoons ice-cream into his mouth thoughtfully and nods and listens like a child listening to a story. He plays with your hair and tells you to grow it out like his and you swat at his hand and you laugh.
"You're the only person who could get away with hair like that."
"Yeah, huh? You'd look horrible with it."
You wave your spoon at him accusingly. He feigns innocence and tells you to eat the remainder of the ice-cream, he's really full. You have no idea how he fits into those jeans, you say.
"You haven't changed," Matt says, and you look at him strangely as he plays with the melted bits sloshing in the container. "You're still genuine and sincere and honest and yes I know they're the same thing -- you're humble and you still care about every single person who cares about you. You're a good man who works hard and follows his dreams without looking back."
"I'm not dead yet" you say jokingly, and he smiles and he looks away.
"And you, you're still shy and anti-social and you care too much about what people think to be selfish , and you hate the fame because all you really want to do is sing."
"But you're wrong. I don't care for people like you do. I hate the screaming. I thought it'd be over after (- he waves his hand towards the Opera House -) but it isn't. Screaming girls everywhere. I tried - fending them off - ignoring them and hopping straight into the car after gigs, and stuff. I tried changing my music - "
"You sing everything to perfection, Corby, you can't fend them off like that-"
"And the manager says I can't just stay in the studio all day-"
"Maybe you should take some time off?"
Matt stays silent.
"Look, you'll be great at everything and anything that you do. If you take time off you might even lose the really fickle teenybopper OH MY GOD SQUEEEE MATT I LOVE YOU girls."
Matt smiles, then waves his hand dismissively.
"I'll figure something out. We should go, the last ferry back leaves soon."
He stands and extends a hand for you to get up and you're suddenly on your feet and he hugs you hard, face buried in your neck. You laugh faintly as he says "Thanks" and you ask "whatever for?" and he shrugs and just looks at you with those eyes that are so large and blue and --
"Rach is waiting for you," he says, and steps back. He turns away from you and descends the stairs.
You shut your eyes and take a deep breath, shaking your head.
**
You sit together waiting for the ferry to come; you can't meet his eyes and you stare instead to the water, sunlight reflecting off it, waves surging up and down, up and down...
"You remember last year, don't you?"
"...Yes. Matt, of course I do." You close your eyes.
"Natalie. She knew."
"It's hard not to. We lived in the same house."
"Do you think she will ever tell?"
"No! No."
"You love Rachel."
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Yes. I love Rach."
"Okay."
"Matt, I'm really sorry. I'm just a trumpet player."
He glares at you.
"If you're just a trumpet player then I'm just an emo teenager with bad hair."
"I'm sorry too." After a pause.
"You mean you're not just an emo teenager with bad hair?"
He laughs then and you look at him and you know it's going to be alright. He'll be fine.
You'll be fine too.
**
"So that's it then."
"Yeah. Thanks for letting me steal him for a few hours, Rach."
Rachel just laughs and tells him to come by again sometime.
You kiss his cheek again and hands clasp and fingers linger for slightly longer than they should. Matt hops into the taxi and waves. Rach waves back.
You watch as it drives off, tucking your hands into the front pockets of your jeans.
And fuck, I just wrote Idol fic.
Pairing: Carl Riseley/Matt Corby
Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING OMG I'M GOING TO GET SUED
Rating: G
A/N: For simplydelovely. I wanted to write her Gossip Girl but thought this would be more traumatically awesome. Garden Island is the place where all the Navy Ships dock in Sydney, haha, and I have been there twice to eat icecream, omg. Rach is Carl's girlfriend and Ant his brother. Natalie won Australian Idol, Carl + Matt were 3rd and 2nd respectively. ANYWAY ON TO THE CRACK!
"Carl? There's someone here for you."
He's standing on your doorstep.
You're standing in the foyer and all you could do is stare incredulously at him. Unkempt hair, skinny jeans (you thought they were out last season) and massive T-shirt. (Bad hair day, it says, and you want to laugh.)
"Oh God, it's you." His eyes are as bright as they always are, and his grin splits his face as he rushes over and you're hugging him.
Rachel offers drinks and he accepts and you follow him into the kitchen.
Matt Corby is back in town.
**
"So what will you be doing here?" you ask him, climbing up the stairs to the top of Garden Island. (Rachel thought you guys needed alone time and made you get a bucket of ice-cream and spoons and shooed you onto the next ferry while she went shopping at the Rocks).
"Family. Christmas. You know." Fame hasn't gotten into his head then. You tell him so and he shouts from behind you, "Neither have you, Riseley!" and you want very much to turn around and ruffle his hair even though he will probably push you down the stairs you just climbed.
You sit there on the rock platform overlooking the harbour and you tell him everything you remember since you last saw him (you try not to talk about music). You talk about the navy ("Wooloomooloo is right over there - you see that grey ship?") and trumpet playing and catching up with Ben and Daniel and Marty and Natalie (once - she's way too busy) and Rachel and Ant and those bad odes fans still manage to send him and not wanting to cut his hair but not really sure when to cut it when it gets too long.
Matt spoons ice-cream into his mouth thoughtfully and nods and listens like a child listening to a story. He plays with your hair and tells you to grow it out like his and you swat at his hand and you laugh.
"You're the only person who could get away with hair like that."
"Yeah, huh? You'd look horrible with it."
You wave your spoon at him accusingly. He feigns innocence and tells you to eat the remainder of the ice-cream, he's really full. You have no idea how he fits into those jeans, you say.
"You haven't changed," Matt says, and you look at him strangely as he plays with the melted bits sloshing in the container. "You're still genuine and sincere and honest and yes I know they're the same thing -- you're humble and you still care about every single person who cares about you. You're a good man who works hard and follows his dreams without looking back."
"I'm not dead yet" you say jokingly, and he smiles and he looks away.
"And you, you're still shy and anti-social and you care too much about what people think to be selfish , and you hate the fame because all you really want to do is sing."
"But you're wrong. I don't care for people like you do. I hate the screaming. I thought it'd be over after (- he waves his hand towards the Opera House -) but it isn't. Screaming girls everywhere. I tried - fending them off - ignoring them and hopping straight into the car after gigs, and stuff. I tried changing my music - "
"You sing everything to perfection, Corby, you can't fend them off like that-"
"And the manager says I can't just stay in the studio all day-"
"Maybe you should take some time off?"
Matt stays silent.
"Look, you'll be great at everything and anything that you do. If you take time off you might even lose the really fickle teenybopper OH MY GOD SQUEEEE MATT I LOVE YOU girls."
Matt smiles, then waves his hand dismissively.
"I'll figure something out. We should go, the last ferry back leaves soon."
He stands and extends a hand for you to get up and you're suddenly on your feet and he hugs you hard, face buried in your neck. You laugh faintly as he says "Thanks" and you ask "whatever for?" and he shrugs and just looks at you with those eyes that are so large and blue and --
"Rach is waiting for you," he says, and steps back. He turns away from you and descends the stairs.
You shut your eyes and take a deep breath, shaking your head.
**
You sit together waiting for the ferry to come; you can't meet his eyes and you stare instead to the water, sunlight reflecting off it, waves surging up and down, up and down...
"You remember last year, don't you?"
"...Yes. Matt, of course I do." You close your eyes.
"Natalie. She knew."
"It's hard not to. We lived in the same house."
"Do you think she will ever tell?"
"No! No."
"You love Rachel."
"Yeah."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Yes. I love Rach."
"Okay."
"Matt, I'm really sorry. I'm just a trumpet player."
He glares at you.
"If you're just a trumpet player then I'm just an emo teenager with bad hair."
"I'm sorry too." After a pause.
"You mean you're not just an emo teenager with bad hair?"
He laughs then and you look at him and you know it's going to be alright. He'll be fine.
You'll be fine too.
**
"So that's it then."
"Yeah. Thanks for letting me steal him for a few hours, Rach."
Rachel just laughs and tells him to come by again sometime.
You kiss his cheek again and hands clasp and fingers linger for slightly longer than they should. Matt hops into the taxi and waves. Rach waves back.
You watch as it drives off, tucking your hands into the front pockets of your jeans.
And fuck, I just wrote Idol fic.