"You're Nobody's Boyfriend (Except You're Kind Of Mine)", RPS, Ed Westwick/Penn Badgley
Title: You’re Nobody’s Boyfriend (Except You’re Kind Of Mine)
Fandom: RPS [Gossip Girl]
Pairing: Penn Badgley/Ed Westwick
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1340
Genre: Slash
Disclaimer: Penn and/or Ed should just sue me already. Only don’t, because I don’t have any money! And I once again reiterate that I don’t want my legs broken by evil ninja mafia people. ‘Cause ow.
Summary: “You’re all over me in most of these shots,” he manages.
Author’s Notes: I was honestly not going to write any more, and then I was looking for a picture of Penn for my locker at work and kept finding all these pictures where Ed has his arm slung around him in a really possessive way, so of course I had to write one more! I will leave these poor bastards alone soon, I really will.
I’m in no way responsible for fucking up the American language, not using ‘technical’ vocabulary, or screwing up anything that may or may not have happened in Penn or Ed’s lives. ‘k? And I think Penn & Blake are very cute so apologies for anything I do there too.
The evidence is all over his laptop screen, and Penn frowns slightly, sipping cooling coffee. He’s not sure how he came to be Google searching the cast anyway, but he was, and now he’s kind of concerned. Frowning, he copies a few web addresses into an email and sends them to Ed, adding do you see a pattern emerging?
A few minutes later, his phone rings.
“I’m usually draped across Chace as well,” is the first thing Ed says, skipping straight past the greeting. “I look better when leaning. It’s my angle.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Penn replies.
“Yeah, it does,” Ed decides firmly.
Penn stares at the photos on his laptop screen for a moment longer.
“You’re all over me in most of these shots,” he manages. In so many pictures from award ceremonies and photo shoots, Ed has his arm around Penn in a very familiar way. A worryingly familiar way.
Ed starts laughing, and Penn scowls.
“What’s so funny?” he demands, but it comes out more amused than angry.
“You finally noticed,” Ed says. “It took you long enough.”
+
Ed brushes imaginary lint from his cardigan, practicing a Chuck Bass smirk while the crew set up. Penn is already channelling Dan; shoulders hunched under his jacket and the awkward expression fixed on his face that has endeared him to so many teenage girls.
“Are we dating, and I haven’t noticed?” Penn asks, very carefully. Ed wants to laugh at him again, but he gets the feeling there are only so many times he’ll be able to get away with that. Besides, Penn might kind of have a point; Ed hasn’t exactly been subtle.
“Oh, you’d notice,” Ed promises, and he wonders vaguely if he’s coming on too strong. “If we were dating, there’d be lots more snogging, for one thing.”
Penn screws up his face. “That’s a horrible word,” he says with feeling. “It just sounds so… dirty.”
Ed winks. “It is if you’re doing it right.”
“You’re impossible,” Penn laughs, bumping his shoulder against Ed’s.
+
“Want to talk about Blake?” Ed asks, an after work beer bottle resting against his bottom lip.
Penn’s mouth curls into a little smile; just the wrong side of bitter, with a touch of ruefulness.
“Not until I’m a lot more drunk than this,” he mumbles.
Ed shrugs. “It’s doable.”
“We have work tomorrow,” Penn reminds him. “And you’re not Chuck Bass; they’re going to be unimpressed if you stumble hungover onto the set tomorrow.”
He’s got the cheekbones for brooding, Ed reflects; Penn’s eyelashes casting dark shadows down his face, and he looks so sad without looking devastated.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Ed takes a mouthful of beer and frowns slightly.
“No.” The rueful smile is back, and Penn turns to his own drink with a sigh.
+
Chace smoulders away in his gorgeous but ultimately heterosexual way, and Penn frowns a little at the photograph because although he’s handsome he’s not beautiful. Beside Chace, Ed has his arm around Penn’s neck in a possessive fashion; his eyes scream mine.
The photos of Penn and Blake strolling down streets and on vacation look far more relaxed, the two of them having easy fun. Things with Blake were easy; it was logical for a kiss to linger too long after a scene and for them to holiday together in sunlight. It just made sense.
Ed has simply made a photographic claim on him, and Penn isn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.
+
“See, here, I’m hitting on you again.”
Ed is waving around the acid-green novel Nobody Does It Better, though the front cover is mainly decorated with girls in bath towels. Penn squints, attempting to work out exactly what happens in that particular book. Cecily’s saga does tend to become just that; one long string of story that forgets to define itself into the individual novels.
“There are websites where you can do this,” Penn points out. “You can talk to the teenage girls about all the times Chuck and Dan are on the same page and use an unhealthy number of exclamation marks while you do so.”
“And how do you know about these sites if you haven’t been on them yourself?” Ed asks, raising an eyebrow.
Penn refuses to furnish him with an answer, preferring instead to stare at his script really hard and pretend to be studying it, though of course he’s line perfect. Or at least, he’s line perfect until he gets in front of the camera, and then it’ll all tumble back out of his head again.
“Anyway,” Ed continues cheerfully, “Look at Chuck. He’s deliberately annoying Dan to get him to pay attention to him.”
“Remind you of anyone?” Penn asks, but takes the sting out of it by adding: “You should ask the producers to let you have a pet monkey next series. I feel it could really add something.”
“Trust you to change the subject,” Ed murmurs, putting down the book.
“You’d only be weirded out if I didn’t,” Penn smiles.
+
“Are you ever going to want to talk about Blake?” Ed presses, sipping Grey Goose and looking more like Chuck than ever.
“No,” Penn half singsongs, though that’s not really the way he wanted to admit it. “No,” he repeats, keeping his voice steadier.
“You can, you know.” Ed is being sweet, or trying to be, and Penn’s ears catch on the rough edges of that accent; it sounds sort of mangled after a day of listening to Ed drawl away in his best American, but it’s still intriguing.
“I don’t want to.” Penn thinks he may sound sulky, which wasn’t his intention at all, and he gulps vodka quickly, trying to cover it.
Ed smirks a little. “Are you ever going to want to talk about me?” He’s leaving what he wants plainly ambiguous, and Penn is not in the mood.
“You make me tired,” he sighs at last, and then realises that it sounds kind of crueller than he meant it to. He’s trying to find the words when Ed drains his glass.
“Well, that’s damning.”
He stands up, his smile slipping, and leaves Penn without so much as a goodbye.
+
The problem is, Penn decides, that the reason he never picked up on Ed clinging to him in all the photographs was that it all seemed kind of too natural. He didn’t think twice about Ed’s arm around his shoulders or his neck, Ed’s side resting against his, because it seemed perfectly logical.
Frowning at Ed’s easy, smouldering posture, Penn reflects that at the time he probably should have had more of an issue with this than he did. And that that also explains a hell of a lot.
“We are dating,” he tells Ed down a phoneline, “We are dating with all the parts but sex.”
“Well, the sex bits tend to be the good bits,” Ed points out, with a slight catch in his tone because he’s probably still kind of angry with Penn - and with good reason.
“This is true,” Penn says thoughtfully.
Ed is silent, and then starts laughing again. “Oh, seriously, you bastard.”
+
Penn lets Ed kiss him sober, which is nice because Ed suspected there ought to have been some kind of liquid courage going on. But there isn’t; just Penn being honest and earnest and… lots of other adjectives Ed really isn’t going to bother coming up with because he’s kind of busy with the way Penn’s teeth catch his lower lip. It’s pretty damn hot.
“Is this you hitting on me?” Penn asks, smirking a little wickedly, though his cheeks are flushed.
“Yes.” Ed nods, just so there can be no more misunderstandings. “This is me hitting on you. And I’m assuming this is you accepting the whole hitting-on-you thing. Yeah?”
Penn looks contemplative, which really is a good look on him. “If you use the word ‘snogging’ in the near future I’m walking.”
Ed just smirks.
+
Fandom: RPS [Gossip Girl]
Pairing: Penn Badgley/Ed Westwick
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1340
Genre: Slash
Disclaimer: Penn and/or Ed should just sue me already. Only don’t, because I don’t have any money! And I once again reiterate that I don’t want my legs broken by evil ninja mafia people. ‘Cause ow.
Summary: “You’re all over me in most of these shots,” he manages.
Author’s Notes: I was honestly not going to write any more, and then I was looking for a picture of Penn for my locker at work and kept finding all these pictures where Ed has his arm slung around him in a really possessive way, so of course I had to write one more! I will leave these poor bastards alone soon, I really will.
I’m in no way responsible for fucking up the American language, not using ‘technical’ vocabulary, or screwing up anything that may or may not have happened in Penn or Ed’s lives. ‘k? And I think Penn & Blake are very cute so apologies for anything I do there too.
The evidence is all over his laptop screen, and Penn frowns slightly, sipping cooling coffee. He’s not sure how he came to be Google searching the cast anyway, but he was, and now he’s kind of concerned. Frowning, he copies a few web addresses into an email and sends them to Ed, adding do you see a pattern emerging?
A few minutes later, his phone rings.
“I’m usually draped across Chace as well,” is the first thing Ed says, skipping straight past the greeting. “I look better when leaning. It’s my angle.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Penn replies.
“Yeah, it does,” Ed decides firmly.
Penn stares at the photos on his laptop screen for a moment longer.
“You’re all over me in most of these shots,” he manages. In so many pictures from award ceremonies and photo shoots, Ed has his arm around Penn in a very familiar way. A worryingly familiar way.
Ed starts laughing, and Penn scowls.
“What’s so funny?” he demands, but it comes out more amused than angry.
“You finally noticed,” Ed says. “It took you long enough.”
+
Ed brushes imaginary lint from his cardigan, practicing a Chuck Bass smirk while the crew set up. Penn is already channelling Dan; shoulders hunched under his jacket and the awkward expression fixed on his face that has endeared him to so many teenage girls.
“Are we dating, and I haven’t noticed?” Penn asks, very carefully. Ed wants to laugh at him again, but he gets the feeling there are only so many times he’ll be able to get away with that. Besides, Penn might kind of have a point; Ed hasn’t exactly been subtle.
“Oh, you’d notice,” Ed promises, and he wonders vaguely if he’s coming on too strong. “If we were dating, there’d be lots more snogging, for one thing.”
Penn screws up his face. “That’s a horrible word,” he says with feeling. “It just sounds so… dirty.”
Ed winks. “It is if you’re doing it right.”
“You’re impossible,” Penn laughs, bumping his shoulder against Ed’s.
+
“Want to talk about Blake?” Ed asks, an after work beer bottle resting against his bottom lip.
Penn’s mouth curls into a little smile; just the wrong side of bitter, with a touch of ruefulness.
“Not until I’m a lot more drunk than this,” he mumbles.
Ed shrugs. “It’s doable.”
“We have work tomorrow,” Penn reminds him. “And you’re not Chuck Bass; they’re going to be unimpressed if you stumble hungover onto the set tomorrow.”
He’s got the cheekbones for brooding, Ed reflects; Penn’s eyelashes casting dark shadows down his face, and he looks so sad without looking devastated.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Ed takes a mouthful of beer and frowns slightly.
“No.” The rueful smile is back, and Penn turns to his own drink with a sigh.
+
Chace smoulders away in his gorgeous but ultimately heterosexual way, and Penn frowns a little at the photograph because although he’s handsome he’s not beautiful. Beside Chace, Ed has his arm around Penn’s neck in a possessive fashion; his eyes scream mine.
The photos of Penn and Blake strolling down streets and on vacation look far more relaxed, the two of them having easy fun. Things with Blake were easy; it was logical for a kiss to linger too long after a scene and for them to holiday together in sunlight. It just made sense.
Ed has simply made a photographic claim on him, and Penn isn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.
+
“See, here, I’m hitting on you again.”
Ed is waving around the acid-green novel Nobody Does It Better, though the front cover is mainly decorated with girls in bath towels. Penn squints, attempting to work out exactly what happens in that particular book. Cecily’s saga does tend to become just that; one long string of story that forgets to define itself into the individual novels.
“There are websites where you can do this,” Penn points out. “You can talk to the teenage girls about all the times Chuck and Dan are on the same page and use an unhealthy number of exclamation marks while you do so.”
“And how do you know about these sites if you haven’t been on them yourself?” Ed asks, raising an eyebrow.
Penn refuses to furnish him with an answer, preferring instead to stare at his script really hard and pretend to be studying it, though of course he’s line perfect. Or at least, he’s line perfect until he gets in front of the camera, and then it’ll all tumble back out of his head again.
“Anyway,” Ed continues cheerfully, “Look at Chuck. He’s deliberately annoying Dan to get him to pay attention to him.”
“Remind you of anyone?” Penn asks, but takes the sting out of it by adding: “You should ask the producers to let you have a pet monkey next series. I feel it could really add something.”
“Trust you to change the subject,” Ed murmurs, putting down the book.
“You’d only be weirded out if I didn’t,” Penn smiles.
+
“Are you ever going to want to talk about Blake?” Ed presses, sipping Grey Goose and looking more like Chuck than ever.
“No,” Penn half singsongs, though that’s not really the way he wanted to admit it. “No,” he repeats, keeping his voice steadier.
“You can, you know.” Ed is being sweet, or trying to be, and Penn’s ears catch on the rough edges of that accent; it sounds sort of mangled after a day of listening to Ed drawl away in his best American, but it’s still intriguing.
“I don’t want to.” Penn thinks he may sound sulky, which wasn’t his intention at all, and he gulps vodka quickly, trying to cover it.
Ed smirks a little. “Are you ever going to want to talk about me?” He’s leaving what he wants plainly ambiguous, and Penn is not in the mood.
“You make me tired,” he sighs at last, and then realises that it sounds kind of crueller than he meant it to. He’s trying to find the words when Ed drains his glass.
“Well, that’s damning.”
He stands up, his smile slipping, and leaves Penn without so much as a goodbye.
+
The problem is, Penn decides, that the reason he never picked up on Ed clinging to him in all the photographs was that it all seemed kind of too natural. He didn’t think twice about Ed’s arm around his shoulders or his neck, Ed’s side resting against his, because it seemed perfectly logical.
Frowning at Ed’s easy, smouldering posture, Penn reflects that at the time he probably should have had more of an issue with this than he did. And that that also explains a hell of a lot.
“We are dating,” he tells Ed down a phoneline, “We are dating with all the parts but sex.”
“Well, the sex bits tend to be the good bits,” Ed points out, with a slight catch in his tone because he’s probably still kind of angry with Penn - and with good reason.
“This is true,” Penn says thoughtfully.
Ed is silent, and then starts laughing again. “Oh, seriously, you bastard.”
+
Penn lets Ed kiss him sober, which is nice because Ed suspected there ought to have been some kind of liquid courage going on. But there isn’t; just Penn being honest and earnest and… lots of other adjectives Ed really isn’t going to bother coming up with because he’s kind of busy with the way Penn’s teeth catch his lower lip. It’s pretty damn hot.
“Is this you hitting on me?” Penn asks, smirking a little wickedly, though his cheeks are flushed.
“Yes.” Ed nods, just so there can be no more misunderstandings. “This is me hitting on you. And I’m assuming this is you accepting the whole hitting-on-you thing. Yeah?”
Penn looks contemplative, which really is a good look on him. “If you use the word ‘snogging’ in the near future I’m walking.”
Ed just smirks.
+