Tattoo - Flones - Chapter 4
Title:Tattoo
Author: Me!
Part:4/11
Pairing: Flones
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst
Word Count: Chapter : 1,857
Summary: They were best friends until they went to Uni. Six years later, they find each other again, but everything has changed.
Warnings: It's a pretty emotional fic. Some health issues that might hit hard if you have an eating disorder, or someone you know has one. Implied Mpreg, but theres a good explanation of how it happened, and no actual Mpreg in the fic. Anyways. Take a look.
A/N:For everywordsalie. Sorry I missed posting this yesterday. Massively busy day, went to a Taylor Swift concert in the evening (which, btw, was amazing. If you haven't seen her, you should) and then was too hyper to post when I got home and realised I hadn't posted in the morning. Sorry about that. Anyways, here it is :)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Tom hadn’t slept well at all, and had woken every few hours, panicking first about how Dani was, and then how he was supposed to be meeting with Danny that day. He’d stare at the ceiling for ten minutes before his exhausted eyes would finally droop closed and send him into sleep once again. Waking at ten to ten no alarm put his system completely out of whack, and he blinked at the wall, trying desperately to wake himself up.
Finally, he shook off the heavy mood that was hanging above him and padded into the bathroom, having a quick wash and using the toilet before getting dressed in his comfort clothes - black t-shirt with star wars motif and faded, well worn-in jeans that hung loosely on his too slim hips. He knew he needed to eat better; he’d gone from slightly chubby at eighteen to thin as a rake at twenty-four. He just never had the appetite for food anymore, and it was always a matter of telling himself he had to eat, because otherwise he’d die.
He made the bed and slipped on his slippers, gigantic fluffy eeyores that he’d secretly fallen in love with and surreptitiously got Dani to ‘persuade’ him to buy them. He’d sewn ears on time and again every time they fell off and stitched him up when he got a hole. They’d lasted him about a year and a half, and they warmed his feet like nothing else.
Cereal was on the cards for breakfast that morning, and as he chewed thoughtfully on the cereal, he looked at the two photo frames that he kept on one of the kitchen shelves. One was made of driftwood that Dani had found when he’d taken her to the beach. The next day, they’d stuck it on card and printed out the picture of them lying on the sand and grinning stupidly at the camera. It had been a good week.
The other was of him and Danny. It was the only one he had. He’d burnt the others in a fit of anger when he was eight months pregnant. This one he had kept as a reminder of the good times. It was a twisted metal frame, simple in it’s elegance.
Tom’s mum had taken the picture. She’d snapped them in the back garden, in the middle of a wrestling match when they were sixteenth. She’d managed to zoom in on them just as Tom had sat on Danny’s chest and pinned him to the dry ground. When Tom had found out that Danny had been in love with him for years, he had looked at the picture and wondered how the hell he had never seen it before. Danny was looking up at him with such adoration and love that it had made Tom’s broken heart ache when he had gone to throw it into the flames, and he had been unable to destroy it.
Tom was glad. When he’d gone back to being sad, rather than angry, he’d cried over the lost memories, deep, racking sobs that shook his entire bulky frame. He had only stopped when his parents had told him that they had doubles of all the photos. He’d instantly dug them out and poured over them, spending hours in the albums they had.
Eventually, he’d handed them back to his mother to hide them for times when he couldn’t cope with being alone anymore.
Tom ripped his gaze from the photo and picked up his bowl, heading to the sink to wash it up.
***
The rest of the morning was spent working on a song he’d been writing for years. He’d started it in university, but been unable to finish it because of the heartache it brought, the reminder of exactly what had happened.
Now that Danny was back, he could finally finish it.
He spent an hour recording the demo acoustic guitar chords and the vocals on his computer, then another hour and a half writing the bass tab. All throughout, he sung the lyrics to himself, the words hitting home so hard that it hurt. He was playing back the guitar and voice to himself, having just hit play, when the doorbell rang. Looking up at the clock, he swore when he saw what the time was.
He left the room, music still playing through the clever house system that he’d bought the year before and head for the front door. He pulled the door open and was met with the sight of Danny fidgeting nervously on the doorstep. Tom smiled shyly and stepped back. Danny stepped in, looking down at his feet so as not to have to look at Tom’s face.
A smirk came upon his lips. “Nice slippers.”
Tom looked down and blushed when he spotted his eeyores slippers, and thought for a split second about toeing them off, before he mentally shrugged. “Thanks.”
He led the way through the living room to the kitchen diner, having converted the actual dining room into his music room almost as soon as he’d bought the place. “Drink?”
“Sure.”
Tom opened the fridge and grabbed the apple juice automatically, just like he had when they were teens. He grabbed two glasses and poured them a glass each, before placing the carton in the fridge and turning to face Danny. The brunette had sat down at the table and was picking at his cuticles, just so that he’d have something to do with his hands. Tom noticed that his right knee was bouncing up and down with excess energy beneath the table top, and he mentally registered that some things never changed. Danny had always been a fidgeter.
Of course, that brought him swiftly round to the sobering thought that some things did change, whether you wanted them to or not.
Tom placed the glass in front of his one time lover and sat opposite him, cradling his own juice. Danny looked up at him through his curls, and silence reigned, until Tom finally cleared his throat and spoke.
“I’m sorry that you thought I was ignoring you. That I hated you. I tried to get hold of you, I really did.”
Danny sighed and looked down once again, resigning himself to having this conversation. He’d known that they couldn’t just go straight back to how it used to be, but he had dreamed of it; that he’d step in the front door and kiss Tom. That the kiss would wipe away their mutual fears of rejection and abandonment, and that they’d end up making the kind of love that was just as sweet as the last time. That the conversation could be avoided because everything that needed to be said was transferred through soft touches of the fingertips and kisses that burnt right down to the soul in only a brilliant way.
Finally, blue eyes looked up from fingernails and locked onto brown. “Why wouldn’t your parents give me your number?”
Tom instantly looked guilty, and took a large swallow of his drink before answering. “I was angry. I thought you’d... left me, were ignoring me, that you hated me. I went through phases: sad, angry, hurt. In one of my hurt and angry stages, I told them that if you called, they weren’t to give you my new number. That I didn’t want to talk to you, that I hated you and never wanted to see you again. I hadn’t told them any different when I went back to being sad and lonely, and I guess they respected my wishes when you called them.” Tom looked imploringly at Danny. “I’m so sorry. I was just so hurt, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Danny grimaced and nodded. “I know the feeling.”
They were silent for a minute, before Danny whispered quietly, “So... you don’t hate me?”
Tom looked shocked, then determined. “No! Of course I don’t! I could never hate you, Dan,” Tom shook his head. “You were my best friend,” he huffed a bitter laugh. “Still are, even after six years apart. You still know me better than anyone else on the planet.”
“I wanted to be more.” Danny was looking down at the table top, palms flat on the wood either side of the glass. He was biting his nails again, Tom noted. The blonde thought he’d stopped that when they’d hit puberty.
Tom reached his hand out, sliding his right hand fingers beneath Danny’s left palm, clasping tight. “So did I.”
Danny looked up at his lover. “There was never anyone else, you know?”
Tom blinked, and frowned. “Not one?”
Dan shook his head. “No,” he frowned right back. “You sound like you’re surprised. Did you-?”
Tom shook his head hard. “Noooo. Big no. Last night was the first time I’ve gone out in... years.”
“So you’re definitely not dating that Harry bloke?”
“No. Despite the brown hair, he’s not my type. Far too serious, despite his drumming genius.”
Danny grinned. “Good.”
Tom laughed. “I take it you were jealous?”
Blue eyes darkened. “As hell.”
The blonde suddenly sobered and became serious once more. “Dan... We can’t just go straight back to the way we were before. You know that right?”
“I know, but we can at least try right?”
Tom looked at Dan, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think we can.”
Danny looked heartbroken and tugged his hand out of Tom’s in a defensive manoeuvre. “Why the fuck not?”
“Don’t get so bloody defensive, Danny,” snapped Tom, before he sighed and pulled his hand back to wrap around his glass again. “I just... I may be similar to who I was six years ago, but I’m also so different. I can’t just... have a guy drop into my life from the sky. My world doesn’t work like that.”
“Why can’t it?”
“It just can’t!” Tom pushed his chair back in a fit of anger. It wasn’t aimed at Danny. It was aimed at himself, for not being able to own up to their mutual parental situation, and sadly enough, at Dani, for causing him all this heartache. He hated that he blamed his child for anything. She was so unbelievably innocent that sometimes he couldn’t believe that she could be his flesh and blood. Danny’s flesh and blood. They were anything but innocent.
Sighing, he turned around and ran his hands through his hair, the habit picked up from the brunette sitting behind him. “I have... factors, Danny. Things that you’d disrupt if you suddenly jumped back into my life.” He wandered over to the side where he could clearly see the photograph of he and Dani. He didn’t think that if he could see it, Danny could see it.
“Like what, Tom? God, I’d drop everything to be with you again, what the hell could be more important?!”
The voice came from directly behind him, and Tom whirled, having had quite enough. His mouth and tongue were working before his brain could register what he was saying and stop him before it was too late.
“Our fucking daughter, Danny! That’s what the hell is more important. Our daughter.”
Chapter 5
Author: Me!
Part:4/11
Pairing: Flones
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Angst
Word Count: Chapter : 1,857
Summary: They were best friends until they went to Uni. Six years later, they find each other again, but everything has changed.
Warnings: It's a pretty emotional fic. Some health issues that might hit hard if you have an eating disorder, or someone you know has one. Implied Mpreg, but theres a good explanation of how it happened, and no actual Mpreg in the fic. Anyways. Take a look.
A/N:For everywordsalie. Sorry I missed posting this yesterday. Massively busy day, went to a Taylor Swift concert in the evening (which, btw, was amazing. If you haven't seen her, you should) and then was too hyper to post when I got home and realised I hadn't posted in the morning. Sorry about that. Anyways, here it is :)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Tom hadn’t slept well at all, and had woken every few hours, panicking first about how Dani was, and then how he was supposed to be meeting with Danny that day. He’d stare at the ceiling for ten minutes before his exhausted eyes would finally droop closed and send him into sleep once again. Waking at ten to ten no alarm put his system completely out of whack, and he blinked at the wall, trying desperately to wake himself up.
Finally, he shook off the heavy mood that was hanging above him and padded into the bathroom, having a quick wash and using the toilet before getting dressed in his comfort clothes - black t-shirt with star wars motif and faded, well worn-in jeans that hung loosely on his too slim hips. He knew he needed to eat better; he’d gone from slightly chubby at eighteen to thin as a rake at twenty-four. He just never had the appetite for food anymore, and it was always a matter of telling himself he had to eat, because otherwise he’d die.
He made the bed and slipped on his slippers, gigantic fluffy eeyores that he’d secretly fallen in love with and surreptitiously got Dani to ‘persuade’ him to buy them. He’d sewn ears on time and again every time they fell off and stitched him up when he got a hole. They’d lasted him about a year and a half, and they warmed his feet like nothing else.
Cereal was on the cards for breakfast that morning, and as he chewed thoughtfully on the cereal, he looked at the two photo frames that he kept on one of the kitchen shelves. One was made of driftwood that Dani had found when he’d taken her to the beach. The next day, they’d stuck it on card and printed out the picture of them lying on the sand and grinning stupidly at the camera. It had been a good week.
The other was of him and Danny. It was the only one he had. He’d burnt the others in a fit of anger when he was eight months pregnant. This one he had kept as a reminder of the good times. It was a twisted metal frame, simple in it’s elegance.
Tom’s mum had taken the picture. She’d snapped them in the back garden, in the middle of a wrestling match when they were sixteenth. She’d managed to zoom in on them just as Tom had sat on Danny’s chest and pinned him to the dry ground. When Tom had found out that Danny had been in love with him for years, he had looked at the picture and wondered how the hell he had never seen it before. Danny was looking up at him with such adoration and love that it had made Tom’s broken heart ache when he had gone to throw it into the flames, and he had been unable to destroy it.
Tom was glad. When he’d gone back to being sad, rather than angry, he’d cried over the lost memories, deep, racking sobs that shook his entire bulky frame. He had only stopped when his parents had told him that they had doubles of all the photos. He’d instantly dug them out and poured over them, spending hours in the albums they had.
Eventually, he’d handed them back to his mother to hide them for times when he couldn’t cope with being alone anymore.
Tom ripped his gaze from the photo and picked up his bowl, heading to the sink to wash it up.
***
The rest of the morning was spent working on a song he’d been writing for years. He’d started it in university, but been unable to finish it because of the heartache it brought, the reminder of exactly what had happened.
Now that Danny was back, he could finally finish it.
He spent an hour recording the demo acoustic guitar chords and the vocals on his computer, then another hour and a half writing the bass tab. All throughout, he sung the lyrics to himself, the words hitting home so hard that it hurt. He was playing back the guitar and voice to himself, having just hit play, when the doorbell rang. Looking up at the clock, he swore when he saw what the time was.
He left the room, music still playing through the clever house system that he’d bought the year before and head for the front door. He pulled the door open and was met with the sight of Danny fidgeting nervously on the doorstep. Tom smiled shyly and stepped back. Danny stepped in, looking down at his feet so as not to have to look at Tom’s face.
A smirk came upon his lips. “Nice slippers.”
Tom looked down and blushed when he spotted his eeyores slippers, and thought for a split second about toeing them off, before he mentally shrugged. “Thanks.”
He led the way through the living room to the kitchen diner, having converted the actual dining room into his music room almost as soon as he’d bought the place. “Drink?”
“Sure.”
Tom opened the fridge and grabbed the apple juice automatically, just like he had when they were teens. He grabbed two glasses and poured them a glass each, before placing the carton in the fridge and turning to face Danny. The brunette had sat down at the table and was picking at his cuticles, just so that he’d have something to do with his hands. Tom noticed that his right knee was bouncing up and down with excess energy beneath the table top, and he mentally registered that some things never changed. Danny had always been a fidgeter.
Of course, that brought him swiftly round to the sobering thought that some things did change, whether you wanted them to or not.
Tom placed the glass in front of his one time lover and sat opposite him, cradling his own juice. Danny looked up at him through his curls, and silence reigned, until Tom finally cleared his throat and spoke.
“I’m sorry that you thought I was ignoring you. That I hated you. I tried to get hold of you, I really did.”
Danny sighed and looked down once again, resigning himself to having this conversation. He’d known that they couldn’t just go straight back to how it used to be, but he had dreamed of it; that he’d step in the front door and kiss Tom. That the kiss would wipe away their mutual fears of rejection and abandonment, and that they’d end up making the kind of love that was just as sweet as the last time. That the conversation could be avoided because everything that needed to be said was transferred through soft touches of the fingertips and kisses that burnt right down to the soul in only a brilliant way.
Finally, blue eyes looked up from fingernails and locked onto brown. “Why wouldn’t your parents give me your number?”
Tom instantly looked guilty, and took a large swallow of his drink before answering. “I was angry. I thought you’d... left me, were ignoring me, that you hated me. I went through phases: sad, angry, hurt. In one of my hurt and angry stages, I told them that if you called, they weren’t to give you my new number. That I didn’t want to talk to you, that I hated you and never wanted to see you again. I hadn’t told them any different when I went back to being sad and lonely, and I guess they respected my wishes when you called them.” Tom looked imploringly at Danny. “I’m so sorry. I was just so hurt, I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Danny grimaced and nodded. “I know the feeling.”
They were silent for a minute, before Danny whispered quietly, “So... you don’t hate me?”
Tom looked shocked, then determined. “No! Of course I don’t! I could never hate you, Dan,” Tom shook his head. “You were my best friend,” he huffed a bitter laugh. “Still are, even after six years apart. You still know me better than anyone else on the planet.”
“I wanted to be more.” Danny was looking down at the table top, palms flat on the wood either side of the glass. He was biting his nails again, Tom noted. The blonde thought he’d stopped that when they’d hit puberty.
Tom reached his hand out, sliding his right hand fingers beneath Danny’s left palm, clasping tight. “So did I.”
Danny looked up at his lover. “There was never anyone else, you know?”
Tom blinked, and frowned. “Not one?”
Dan shook his head. “No,” he frowned right back. “You sound like you’re surprised. Did you-?”
Tom shook his head hard. “Noooo. Big no. Last night was the first time I’ve gone out in... years.”
“So you’re definitely not dating that Harry bloke?”
“No. Despite the brown hair, he’s not my type. Far too serious, despite his drumming genius.”
Danny grinned. “Good.”
Tom laughed. “I take it you were jealous?”
Blue eyes darkened. “As hell.”
The blonde suddenly sobered and became serious once more. “Dan... We can’t just go straight back to the way we were before. You know that right?”
“I know, but we can at least try right?”
Tom looked at Dan, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think we can.”
Danny looked heartbroken and tugged his hand out of Tom’s in a defensive manoeuvre. “Why the fuck not?”
“Don’t get so bloody defensive, Danny,” snapped Tom, before he sighed and pulled his hand back to wrap around his glass again. “I just... I may be similar to who I was six years ago, but I’m also so different. I can’t just... have a guy drop into my life from the sky. My world doesn’t work like that.”
“Why can’t it?”
“It just can’t!” Tom pushed his chair back in a fit of anger. It wasn’t aimed at Danny. It was aimed at himself, for not being able to own up to their mutual parental situation, and sadly enough, at Dani, for causing him all this heartache. He hated that he blamed his child for anything. She was so unbelievably innocent that sometimes he couldn’t believe that she could be his flesh and blood. Danny’s flesh and blood. They were anything but innocent.
Sighing, he turned around and ran his hands through his hair, the habit picked up from the brunette sitting behind him. “I have... factors, Danny. Things that you’d disrupt if you suddenly jumped back into my life.” He wandered over to the side where he could clearly see the photograph of he and Dani. He didn’t think that if he could see it, Danny could see it.
“Like what, Tom? God, I’d drop everything to be with you again, what the hell could be more important?!”
The voice came from directly behind him, and Tom whirled, having had quite enough. His mouth and tongue were working before his brain could register what he was saying and stop him before it was too late.
“Our fucking daughter, Danny! That’s what the hell is more important. Our daughter.”
Chapter 5