(no subject)
Title: Tearing Apart (was Grin before, but I prefer this one :) )
Chapter: 3
Author:
slasher48/
bad_bad_books
Rating: Still just R for swearing, nothing graphic yet
Pairing: Duh. XD
Disclaimer: If I knew them or owned them, I'd be in the bedroom with them, either videotaping or joining them so...obviously I don't!
First Chapter
Second Chapter
I find Brandon Novak by the pool and shield my eyes to see that he's still wearing shorts, lucky for me. "Novak!" I call out and his face turns toward me, eyes opening wide.
He bounces over to me and wraps me in another of his infamous hugs. "What the fuck is up, Lazzy?"
I sigh and drop onto a deck chair, head in my hands. "I fucked up, Bran. Like, really bad."
He can see the seriousness in my expression and drops next to me on the same chair, eyes attentive and waiting. "Tell Old Dreamseller what this shit is all about, dude. I heard Bam slam his way through the fucking house after he went after you, what the hell did you do?"
I shake my head. "Man, I really did it, I fucked up so bad. I-I called him stupid."
He looks at me blankly. "That's it? That's why he's so goddamn pissed off? You called him stupid?" I exhale heavily with frustration; of course he wouldn't fucking know why, no one does, they just assume he doesn't give a shit about stupid insults like that. But, I know better.
"Yes, that's why he's so goddamn pissed off, mate. You don't understand, though, like," I'm starting to rethink the decision to tell Novak; obviously he's as fucking oblivious as the rest of the household and I don't want to blow Bammie's cover of indifference. I shoot a glance up toward his window and swallow hard.
"Well, it doesn't matter why he got so pissed off, what matters is he told me that if I want him to hear my apology and shit, I had to come out and tell you whatever I wanted to say."
He lays back against the back of the deck chair and fixes his eyes on me again. "So, go on. Apologize."
I nod my head a little and take a deep breath. "Well, I'm sorry first of all for getting pissed over something as stupid as a cigarette; perhaps I do need to cool it with my addiction a little bit. Definitely tell him that. And, I'm sorry for saying something that dumb 'cause I know he hates it when I insult him, period.
I'm sorry that I hurt him, 'cause it kills me when I hurt him in any way, like seriously when I saw he was crying, I almost started fucking bawling my eyes out. And, I'm so so sorry for forgetting I promised not to call him that.
The thing I'm most sorry for is making him believe I lied to him when I said I wasn't like everybody else and that I understood him a lot fucking better than they did. I meant what I said, I don't think that and it was just a slip that won't happen again.
Bran, it hurts, like physically hurts me when he's in pain. Please make sure he knows that I'm sorry and I do love him and I feel horrible, and please, please make sure he stops crying."
Novak's eyes are wide, his mouth gaping a bit. "That's fucking intense, dude. I'll make sure he gets the message, though."
I reach over and hug him gratefully. "Thanks, mate." Silently, I get up with a nod to him and walk back in the house, well almost in the house. I catch sight of a shape that's all too familiar to me walking back to the ramp in the backyard with a skateboard, set and determined to skate his pain away like he always does.
I run out of the shadows, calling, "Bam!" He ignores me, and though it hurts like a bitch, I realize that I deserve that and so much more. I lean against the edge of his castle and watch as he does trick after trick, resisting my normal urge to applaud him and stay silent, just looking.
God, he's so beautiful when he's skating. He's like grace in its purest, most raw form with those deathdefying daredevil maneuvers he can pull off so effortlessly. Hell, he invented a trick called the goddamn Impossible that barely any other skater in the world can do. He loves it, too. He loves every second of being on that board, it's in his face, the relaxation and incredible flexibility of his body, his gorgeous blue eyes lit with something that can only come from inside.
When he goes in, I go in, perching on the edge of the couch and watching Rake and Raab try to own each other with some racing game. Ugh, I hate modern technology. I'd much rather be writing than do stupid shit like that.
So that's what I do. open my notebook on my lap and ponder my situation intently, dragging a few lyrics from it.
Your pain it calls to me
Makes me ache so desperately
I'm tearing apart at the sight of your tears
A broken heart from all your fears
I nod my head, satisifed. Well at least something positive came out of this shit situation I've landed myself in.
My eyes follow Lifepartner as he and Bammie make their way upstairs, his hand on his arm making it obvious he needs to talk to him. I swallow again; now it's up to Bam whether we're friends again.
It's up to him whether he wants to forgive me. All I can do is wait...and hope. Fuck, if I thought God were gonna listen, I'd pray! I don't know what I'd do if I lost that cute little skaterpunk up there, but I know it wouldn't be pleasant, for myself or for others.
******************************************************************************************
I apologize for the rather short chapter AGAIN lol but I wanted to get this out before my schedule gets swamped right around Thursday and I thought the cliffie right there was a perfect place to end lol. Send me love in the form of comments? You reviewers own my heart :)
Chapter: 3
Author:
slasher48/
bad_bad_books
Rating: Still just R for swearing, nothing graphic yet
Pairing: Duh. XD
Disclaimer: If I knew them or owned them, I'd be in the bedroom with them, either videotaping or joining them so...obviously I don't!
First Chapter
Second Chapter
I find Brandon Novak by the pool and shield my eyes to see that he's still wearing shorts, lucky for me. "Novak!" I call out and his face turns toward me, eyes opening wide.
He bounces over to me and wraps me in another of his infamous hugs. "What the fuck is up, Lazzy?"
I sigh and drop onto a deck chair, head in my hands. "I fucked up, Bran. Like, really bad."
He can see the seriousness in my expression and drops next to me on the same chair, eyes attentive and waiting. "Tell Old Dreamseller what this shit is all about, dude. I heard Bam slam his way through the fucking house after he went after you, what the hell did you do?"
I shake my head. "Man, I really did it, I fucked up so bad. I-I called him stupid."
He looks at me blankly. "That's it? That's why he's so goddamn pissed off? You called him stupid?" I exhale heavily with frustration; of course he wouldn't fucking know why, no one does, they just assume he doesn't give a shit about stupid insults like that. But, I know better.
"Yes, that's why he's so goddamn pissed off, mate. You don't understand, though, like," I'm starting to rethink the decision to tell Novak; obviously he's as fucking oblivious as the rest of the household and I don't want to blow Bammie's cover of indifference. I shoot a glance up toward his window and swallow hard.
"Well, it doesn't matter why he got so pissed off, what matters is he told me that if I want him to hear my apology and shit, I had to come out and tell you whatever I wanted to say."
He lays back against the back of the deck chair and fixes his eyes on me again. "So, go on. Apologize."
I nod my head a little and take a deep breath. "Well, I'm sorry first of all for getting pissed over something as stupid as a cigarette; perhaps I do need to cool it with my addiction a little bit. Definitely tell him that. And, I'm sorry for saying something that dumb 'cause I know he hates it when I insult him, period.
I'm sorry that I hurt him, 'cause it kills me when I hurt him in any way, like seriously when I saw he was crying, I almost started fucking bawling my eyes out. And, I'm so so sorry for forgetting I promised not to call him that.
The thing I'm most sorry for is making him believe I lied to him when I said I wasn't like everybody else and that I understood him a lot fucking better than they did. I meant what I said, I don't think that and it was just a slip that won't happen again.
Bran, it hurts, like physically hurts me when he's in pain. Please make sure he knows that I'm sorry and I do love him and I feel horrible, and please, please make sure he stops crying."
Novak's eyes are wide, his mouth gaping a bit. "That's fucking intense, dude. I'll make sure he gets the message, though."
I reach over and hug him gratefully. "Thanks, mate." Silently, I get up with a nod to him and walk back in the house, well almost in the house. I catch sight of a shape that's all too familiar to me walking back to the ramp in the backyard with a skateboard, set and determined to skate his pain away like he always does.
I run out of the shadows, calling, "Bam!" He ignores me, and though it hurts like a bitch, I realize that I deserve that and so much more. I lean against the edge of his castle and watch as he does trick after trick, resisting my normal urge to applaud him and stay silent, just looking.
God, he's so beautiful when he's skating. He's like grace in its purest, most raw form with those deathdefying daredevil maneuvers he can pull off so effortlessly. Hell, he invented a trick called the goddamn Impossible that barely any other skater in the world can do. He loves it, too. He loves every second of being on that board, it's in his face, the relaxation and incredible flexibility of his body, his gorgeous blue eyes lit with something that can only come from inside.
When he goes in, I go in, perching on the edge of the couch and watching Rake and Raab try to own each other with some racing game. Ugh, I hate modern technology. I'd much rather be writing than do stupid shit like that.
So that's what I do. open my notebook on my lap and ponder my situation intently, dragging a few lyrics from it.
Your pain it calls to me
Makes me ache so desperately
I'm tearing apart at the sight of your tears
A broken heart from all your fears
I nod my head, satisifed. Well at least something positive came out of this shit situation I've landed myself in.
My eyes follow Lifepartner as he and Bammie make their way upstairs, his hand on his arm making it obvious he needs to talk to him. I swallow again; now it's up to Bam whether we're friends again.
It's up to him whether he wants to forgive me. All I can do is wait...and hope. Fuck, if I thought God were gonna listen, I'd pray! I don't know what I'd do if I lost that cute little skaterpunk up there, but I know it wouldn't be pleasant, for myself or for others.
******************************************************************************************
I apologize for the rather short chapter AGAIN lol but I wanted to get this out before my schedule gets swamped right around Thursday and I thought the cliffie right there was a perfect place to end lol. Send me love in the form of comments? You reviewers own my heart :)