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FullMetal's....Well, it's Writing!

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Post  Fullmetal tr Fri May 22, 2009 8:15 pm

Um...nothing yet. o.o I'll be back. cat
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 03, 2009 9:07 pm

Chapter 6 so far ;D

When I made it outside, bag slung over my shoulder, it was raining. Lightening flashed in the distance, and a moment later a crash of thunder rippled throughout the gray sky. Palm trees in the distance struggled against the wind, leaves blowing every which way. I ducked my head and ran toward my car, shivering against the cold air.
I got into the car, feeling a rush of deja vu. Was it really only four months ago that I sat in the same car, nowhere to go just because of who I am? Hard to believe; it felt like a lifetime. One life was me pre-Brandon, a sullen teenager who didn't know where he belonged. Then there was life during Brandon, when I was happy and optimistic and blinded by love. Now begins post-Brandon, which I only know will be bleak.
I backed out of the driveway, the windshield wipers working furiously to allow me to see the road ahead. Rain splattered against the windshield, and I cursed under my breath, “God, I'm gonna get in a damn crash if this keeps up.”
My heart stopped beating for that brief moment before I accelerated, winding my way through the roads in a blind panic. Left...then a right...another left here...where's that building?
I pulled up in front of the apartment building, a simple red brick structure that usually looked cheery. However, in the rain and my gloom, it seemed to loom over me. Mocking me. I stepped up to the entrance, trying to remember the correct room number.
*~*~*~*~*
“Ryan?” Andrew asked, looking at me as he opened his door. I don't blame him for being confused; it's not every day that your friend shows up soaking wet on your doorstep, especially when they had been staying with a movie star, “What are you doing here?”
I opened my mouth, trying to speak, but nothing came out. The raindrops on my face, mingled with tears, and my bloodshot eyes must have given me away, because Andrew reached around to hug me. I gripped the front of his shirt, my shoulders shaking as I rested my head on his shoulder. My wet hair, my tears, and maybe even a bit of saliva ended up on his white dress shirt, but he just let me bawl like a baby.
Eventually, I calmed down slightly, and we went into his apartment. It was considerably cleaner than last time, blankets folded and all the throw pillows matching. The sink was spotless, and there wasn't a speck of dust in the place.
“What happened to this place?” I chuckled weakly, settling myself on the couch, “Looks like a mom-tornado swept through.”
“I cleaned up!” Andrew defended, placing a hand on his hip. He surveyed the room for a moment, then sighed, “Ok, fine, I admit it, it does look like my mom was here. But seriously, this was on a whim!”
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:39 pm

“Mmm...” I simply nodded, looking down at my feet as the emotions suddenly came rushing back, weighing me down, making me feel trapped under the water. Every time I was close to the surface, I was just pushed down deeper in the pool of my own tears.
Andrew inspected his shirt for a moment with a small sigh, “Looks like this needs to be washed...”
“Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your shirt and stuff...” I said quietly, playing with the lace on my sneaker absentmindedly.
“It's nothing,” Andrew replied, shaking his head in a way that made his shaggy black hair fall in his face. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it from his shoulders casually. It fell to a crumpled heap on the floor, and he kicked it aside carefully. He then looked at me, his blue eyes looking directly into mine in a way that made me shiver slightly. He stepped toward me, and I wondered whether I should make room for him on the couch.
In the end, there was no need. He grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet suddenly. I lost my footing and fell forward. My reflexes made my hands shoot out in front of me, but Andrew was already holding one of my wrists, and I closed my eyes, prepared for impact.
None came. I opened my eyes in surprise, then noticed that Andrew's hand had prevented my fall by resting on my hip. I opened my mouth to thank him, but I didn't get to start.
Andrew's mouth sealed itself over mine, warm and soft. It was a taste distinctly different from Brandon's, a kind of sweet, almost fruity type of sensation rather than the rough taste of smoke and alcohol that permeated from Brandon's mouth. One of my hands came to hesitantly rest on Andrew's shoulder as I closed my eyes, giving in to the sensation. There was nothing wrong with it, in essence; we had broken up, so I was a free man. But, for some reason, it felt wrong, but right. A conundrum wracked my brain. What to do in a situation like this? Think with my brain or heart?
I went with my heart, pressing my lips gently against his. I was soon out of air, and we broke away for a moment. Andrew looked at me, perhaps searching for any emotion in my expression.
“D-Drew...” I sighed, tightening my grip on his shoulder reassuringly, “Kiss me again. I need it. Now...”
“If you insist,” he replied with a small smile, pushing me up against the wall. He began to bend down, his lips nearly a centimeter from mine. I closed my eyes in anticipation, yearning for the touch, but there was none. I opened one eye to see that Andrew had back his head away, and he seemed to be surveying me.
“What?!” I asked with frustration, my face bright red, “You damn idiot, kiss me already!!” I stomped my foot angrily, glaring at the fucking tease. He grinned, then touched the center of my chest gently, but still in a somehow sensual way that made my heat pound furiously below his feather light touch. He smirked, leaning in so that I could feel his breath on my neck.
“Your clothes are wet, Ryan...” he whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, my head tipping back slightly against the wall. I small moan escaped my lips as I struggled to regain my composure.
“Well...” I murmured in his ear, running my fingers up and down his spine, “why don't you fix that? Or do I have to be the man here...?”
“Mmm...I like the way you think...” Andrew chuckled lowly, backing away slightly. He grabbed the hem of my t-shirt, and I raised my hands obediently, glad to be free of the shirt sticking to my skin. Andrew's hands fell down to the waistband of my jeans, working quickly at the button and zipper. He peeled the soaked jeans off, cursing under his breath.
“These damn skinny jeans...why today, Ryan...?” he whispered, kicking the clothing to the side as he straightened up. I earnestly tangled my hands in his hair, pulling him in for another kiss. Both his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me as close as we possibly could. His mouth opened, and I followed suit. His tongue probed my mouth, and I let out a groan, trying to pull him closer.
In the end, he pushed me onto the couch, where we then spent the rest of the day, until the point where I couldn't remember why I had gone there in the first place.
*~*~*~*~*
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Post  Havoc Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:44 pm

I'M GOING TO KICK RYAN RIGHT WHERE IT HURTS SO HARD SO HE CAN NEVER GIVE IT TO BRANDON AGAIN!! O:< NOT AFTER DIRTYING HIMSELF WITH THAT... THAT ANDREW PERSON!!!!
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:46 pm

O: THEN WHAT IS BRANDON SUPPOSED TO DO?! DON'T LEAVE HIM ALONE!!
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Post  Havoc Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:47 pm

He can ditch Ryan and give it to Roy Russell Head of Detectiveness Department~ ;D And Eve and Amber forever!!! O:
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 03, 2009 10:48 pm

1) Uhhh...you can write that crack fic for yourself. XDD

2) TRUFAX XDDD
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 10, 2009 8:04 pm

NEXT PART!! O:

Two weeks passed, bringing with them an avalanche of celebrity gossip magazines. Andrew apparently loved them so much that he had a subscription to as many as he could afford (and by afford, I mean as many as he can buy with the money he saved by not buying a bed frame and instead sleeping on a mattress with two pillows and a perpetually messy bedding set). However, this created quite the dilemma for me, because Brandon was on the cover of nearly every issue, occasionally with a picture of us in the shape of a heart with a jagged line in the middle, supposedly representing our breakup.
Another two weeks passed before I saw the one headline that nearly gave me a heart attack. There, in big bold letters, read “Brandon's Suicide Attempt”. Underneath were several white bullet points that read such things as “Never Leaves the House” and “Family Worried”. I fell to the floor, my hands shaking as I tried to find the article.
“Ryan?” Andrew's voice called, footsteps echoing from somewhere around his bedroom. I didn't reply, my eyes blurring with tears as I tried to read the article.
On October 28, A-lister Brandon Lansing was rushed to a local LA hospital after his manager called, having seen him passed out with a bottle of pills beside him. Doctors later discovered that he had taken the pills, prescribed for migraines, with alcohol, causing a near overdose. He has not yet been released. His manager declined to comment, but his sister, Eve Russel of Saturday Night Live fame, said, “He seemed really happy with that Ryan kid, but they had a falling out or something. I haven't seen him since our family reunion a while ago, since we're both really busy.” When asked if she would be going to stay with him, she replied, “My schedule's full, so I can't, but I've been trying to contact our brother Jeremy. We haven't been able to get in touch with him as of yet, so Brandon's manager will be staying with him until then.” Ryan, Brandon's alleged boyfriend, cannot be contacted, but –
The magazine was snatched from my hands, and I looked up at the culprit. Andrew stood above me, rolling up the magazine.
“I was reading that!!” I objected, reaching toward him, but feeling too drained to do much else. It was as if that article had stolen all my energy.
“He made you cry,” Andrew said simply, dropping the magazine into the garbage, “again. I can't stand by and let that happen.”
I felt the odd combination of urges, to either punch or hug him. As a compromise, I did nothing, letting my head fall toward my chest dejectedly. Andrew sat behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.
“You didn't have to do that...” I whispered, laying my hands on his.
“I did,” he breathed, kissing my neck tenderly. My head tipped back, and he kissed a trail up to my ear.
“Ah-Andrew...” I moaned, hands clenching into loose fists at my sides. Andrew tightened his grip around my waist, then, quickly, unbuttoned my jeans and slipped his hand beneath the waistband.
“Mm...want me to get this over with,” Andrew asked, lips at my ear, “Ryan...?” he whispered my name slowly, nibbling my earlobe.
“Ah--!” I gasped, back arching slightly, “Hurry it up, Andrew!”
“Of course,” he whispered.


((YOU KNOW YOU LOVE MY ICON, HAVOC!! ;D))
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jun 10, 2009 11:34 pm

I sat in the bathroom, huddled in the empty bathtub behind the curtain, my phone pressed to my ear. I just need to hear his voice, I promised myself as the phone rang, I just need to hear it and then I'll be done.
“Hello?” answered a puzzled sounding voice in the background. I held my breath, not knowing who it was.
“Umm...is Brandon there? I'm a friend of his—Ryan,”
“Uh, he's in the shower now. Want me to tell him a message?” the voice sounded bored, and I could easily imagine a teenager sitting at a desk, picking at his nails.
“Er...no, it's fine. I'll just call back another time.” I stuttered, pressing the end button quickly. I put my phone on the floor of the tub, wrapping my arms around my knees.
There was a knock on the door. “Ryan? You in here?” Andrew's voice called, sounding concerned. I hid behind the shower curtain as he opened the door. I didn't dare breathe until he was gone.
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Post  Fullmetal tr Thu Jun 11, 2009 12:27 am

Best effect if read while listening to "Thinking of You" by Katy Perry. o.o

*~*~*~*~*~*
Andrew's hands gripped my hips, my hands clenching into the sheets. I shut my eyes, my head drooping forward as I tried to find some way to stay on solid ground, on Earth, on somewhere that I knew.
“Ryan...” he gasped. I felt tears gather in my eyes, an I rested my forehead on the headboard, exhausted. Suddenly, Brandon's face flashed before my eyes, then left. I gasped, eyes flying open. No, no, no!! Don't do this to me!!
“B...” I moaned, back arching. It was ending, I could tell, “B-Brandon...”
Time seemed to stop. I collapsed, my arms giving out from beneath me, and Andrew fell on top of me.
“R-Ryan?” he asked quietly, breaking the heavy silence in the room. My eyes widened, then closed again.
“I'm sorry, Drew...” I whispered hoarsely, “I-I didn't mean to, and...” I couldn't continue, and I simply found myself crying. Andrew carefully got off the bed, turning toward the door.
“No...” I barely uttered, trying to lift my arm to stop him, but my whole body felt like it was made of either lead or Jello, rendering me unable to move. The tears fell faster, “No, Drew, wait--!”
Andrew turned back toward me, lifting the sheets carefully and tucking me in. He covered me with the comforter next, then grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and put them on.
“I'm sorry, Ryan...” he whispered, brushing my hair out of my face. He kissed my forehead for a long moment, then turned again.
“Wait!” I called, scrabbling to all fours. I grabbed his wrist, tears falling freely from my eyes, “Andrew...Andrew, don't leave!! Please, stay here with me!!”
He didn't reply, and my arms gave out once more. I curled up, shutting my eyes. Suddenly, I felt warm hands pick me up and place me under the blankets once more. I opened my mouth to speak, but a moment later he joined me.
I threw my arm over his midsection in a silent plea for him to stay, but I soon drifted off to a fitful sleep, enveloped in Andrew's warmth, if only for now.
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Post  Fullmetal tr Thu Jun 11, 2009 7:42 pm

I woke up the next morning in an empty bed. I sat up, looking around, but found no one.
"A-Andrew?!" I called, throwing on one his button down shirts, which fell early to my knees. I left the room, keeping one hand on the wall as I walked toward the small kitchen. I half expected Andrew to be standing at the counter making coffee. He wouldn't really just leave his apartment, right?
I entered the kitchen, deciding to just have a bowl of cereal. When I placed my bowl on the counter, I saw that there was a note from Andrew.
Ryan,
I'll be back sometime. Don't wait for me. I'll be fine. Keep yourself safe.
Drew
I sighed, pouring the cereal into the bowl. Once my breakfast was prepared, I sat on the couch and turned on the TV.
I was halfway through a rerun of House when my cell phone rang. I flipped it open without looking at the number.
"Hello?" I asked dully, far from being in the mood to talk to people. I tapped my fingers on the arm of the couch, muting the TV.
"R-Ryan?"
My heart literally stopped for a moment. My breathing sped up and I felt dizzy. My throat was suddenly dry, and my head seemed to be pounding somewhere around my Adam's apple.
"Brandon..."
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Post  Colonel Thu Jun 11, 2009 9:16 pm

YES, THAT'S RIGHT! O:< YOU CALL HIM, AND YOU GET HIM BACK, BRANDON!!!!!!
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Post  Fullmetal tr Fri Jun 19, 2009 5:41 pm

“Ryan,” Brandon replied, “Oh Jesus, it's actually you.”
“Yeah,” I whispered, gripping the phone, “It's me.”
“Why'd you call?” Brandon asked, “I...thought that you hate me now.”
“The magazine said...that you tried to kill yourself...” I choked out, my eyes closed as tears began to pour out, “I needed to make sure that you're okay...”
“I--” Brandon began, but was cut off by some voice in the background. Some female voice, asking where the towels were so she could shower.
“Who's that?!” I demanded, eyes narrowing. My vision blurred, and I wiped the tears away bitterly.
“I-It's Rachel,” Brandon stuttered.
“Forget it, Brandon,” I spat, “You've obviously moved on to some new chick or whatever. Don't expect me to call or anything, because I give up.” I pressed the end button and hurled the phone across the room. The battery fell out, but I ignored it. I grabbed a blanket and threw it over my head. My shoulders shook as the tears ran down my face. I knew that it wasn't my place to complain – I mean, I had ended up with Andrew – but it felt like betrayal to find out that Brandon had hooked up with a girl.
The door suddenly opened. I lifted the blanket to see Andrew standing there with two Shop Rite bags in hi hands. I jumped off the couch and ran over to him, not caring how pathetic I looked. I threw my arms around his waist and buried my head in his chest, desperately seeking some kind of comfort.
“R-Ryan?” he asked, tentatively resting his arms around my waist, “What's wrong?”
I managed to choke out an explanation, my hands clenching into fists as I gripped the hem of his shirt.
“That bastard,” Andrew spat, dropping his bags. He grabbed my hand, pulling me back over to the couch. He threw the blanket back over me, then went to the kitchen, muttering something about comfort food.
*~*~*~*~*
Brandon
“What's wrong?” Jeremy asked, lazily paging through the newspaper. I looked up from the phone, still in shock.
“Ryan,” was all I could say, “thought that Rachel was like, sleeping with me or something. He heard her voice and jumped to conclusions.”
“Ewwie,” Rachel muttered, lounging on the couch, “you're Brandon. That's just...ewwie.”
“I heard,” I muttered sarcastically. For some reason, my family decided to drag my brother and his wife from their wonderful life in France or whatever to babysit me. Thankfully, the others weren't so pleased themselves, although it was summer, and therefore Jeremy wasn't teaching, and Rachel already had a month off.
Jeremy looked at me, then sighed, “Brandon, calm down. It'll be fine. Just go there and explain it to him.”
I gave him a long glare, “How's that supposed to help?”
Jeremy shrugged, “I dunno. That's what they always do in the movies.”
“Gee, thanks,” I exhaled, running a hand through my hair.
“Just go, you wimp!” Rachel yelled, throwing a pillow at me, “Before that Andrew dude takes him.”
I looked at her, sighed, then nodded, “I will.” I grabbed my keys off the counter and ran to the garage, planning an apology in my head.
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Post  Fullmetal tr Sat Jun 20, 2009 5:42 pm

ATTENTION: NEW STORY/IDEA/RANDOM THING. NOT PART OF ANY PREVIOUS PROJECT.

What a night to be lost... Dana though bitterly, wandering the streets of New York City in the cold, drenching rain. Her wild auburn curls stuck to the back of her neck, the thick hair weighing her head down. She struggled to keep her eyes open, pinching some of the fat that hung from her biceps. For the fifth time in ten minutes, she dug her hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt, hoping to find any sum of money. However, as always, she found none, and so continued walking the dark streets.
“Are you okay?” a voice asked, seemingly out of nowhere. Dana jumped, looking around in the darkness in search of the source. She widened her stance slightly, trying to remember the martial arts she had learned as a teenager.
“Who's there?!” Dana demanded, voice shaking slightly, “I'm a black belt! Reveal yourself!” There was a chuckle from the shadow of the alleyway, and a figure stepped out.
She was taller than Dana's 5'3”, but not by very much. She held herself proudly, shoulders back and chin held high. She looked quite professional, with smooth dirty blond hair pulled into a knot and an expensive looking gray suit. Her black heels clicked against the wet pavement as she approached Dana, a stern look in her dark blue eyes.
“Are you lost or something?” she questioned, pushing up the wire rimmed glasses that had slipped slightly down the bridge of her nose. Dana glared, lifting her head and straightening her back in an attempt to match the height of the other woman.
“Not lost,” Dana replied, narrowing her eyes at the stranger, “Just homeless and out of money. What's it to ya?”
“Homeless?” the woman raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows, then knitted them in the perfect image of concern, “Since when?”
“Since yesterday, thanks to the no-good idiot jerk of a president we've got,” Dana complained, kicking at a rock on the sidewalk.
“...” the woman appraised her for a moment, then simply mused, “I see.”
“Do you have some kind of mental condition?” Dana asked incredulously as the stranger stood in silence, apparently immersed in thought.
“My name's Erica,” the woman suddenly stated, stepping one step closer to Dana. She held out her hand toward Dana, “Erica Hansen.”
“Er, Dana Oliver,” Dana said uncomfortably, shaking Erica's hand firmly for a brief moment. Erica seemed to think this action over for a moment, then suddenly grasped Dana's wrist and began to head in the opposite direction.
“C'mon,” Erica said, looking both ways briefly before crossing the street, “My apartment is just two blocks from here. You need to dry off so you don't get sick.”
“O-okay...” Dana muttered doubtfully, trying to keep up with the other woman. Somehow, Erica was able to run faster in her expensive heels than Dana could in her durable Nike's, which irked Dana to no end.
*~*~*~*~*
“Do you want to borrow some pajamas?” Erica asked, surveying Dana with her critical eyes. Dana looked down at herself. Her camisole was soaked through, the denim of her miniskirt was plastered to her legs, and her sweatshirt was hanging over the back of a chair to dry.
“Oh, yeah, that'd be great,” Dana muttered, pulling at her nearly transparent camisole. Erica tossed her a large sweatshirt and a pair or sweatpants, then directed her to the bathroom.
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Post  Fullmetal tr Sun Jul 12, 2009 10:29 pm

TRANSITIONSSSSSS

Ryan
I held the blanket tighter around myself, shivering slightly. It was raining again, and I stared into the black clouds bitterly.
“Ryan!!” Andrew yelled, sliding the glass door open. Damn, he found me, I thought, ignoring him, “What the hell are you doing out here?! This'll be the death of you!”
“Maybe I don't care,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my waterlogged hair out of my face. I gripped one edge of the blanket with each hand, looking at the angry waves on the beach. Louder, I added, “Leave me alone, Drew. I'm fine.”
“Ryan!” he called again. I didn't respond, loosening my grip on the blanket; it wasn't doing me much good. The area was silent but for the alternating crashes of waves and thunder, until Andrew finally spoke, “Fine. I'll be inside. When you get sick, don't come crying to me.”
“Fine then,” I muttered, glancing toward the road as the door slid closed again. A silver, expensive looking car sped by in the distance, and I caught my breath. It looked an awful lot like Brandon's.
No. I'm not about to let myself go down that road again. I sighed, standing up with the blanket still wrapped around me. I headed inside, lying on the couch with my arm over my eyes as I tried not to think.

Brandon
When I planned my epic retaking of Ryan, I hadn't thought of a few things. Little things called traffic and having no idea where the hell Andrew lived. My car, no matter how effing fast, couldn't fly, so I was stuck for nearly an extra hour on the highway because some drunk guy crashed his car. I turned up the radio in an attempt to ease my nerves, but every station seemed to be having a breakup-song-palooza. It was silent, and that forced me to think, and I really prefer to not think in these situations, because it makes me feel like a middle school girl on a bad day.
What would I find once I found Andrew's place? Ryan being happier with Andrew? Would I just leave him, then?
Yes, I decided after a few moments of deliberating. If Ryan was truly happy with Andrew and wanted to stay, I have no right to stop him from being happy. I can move on. Or, I'll keep telling myself that.
What if Ryan's not happy? Easy, I thought at once, my grip tightening on the steering wheel, I'll take back what is mine.
The cars ahead of me started moving, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Now all I had to think about was driving.

**
Once I finally found the building, which I had recognized while I sped by. It was raining again; I covered my head with my sweatshirt while I ran into the building. For some reason, the room number had stuck in my mind, and I wandered toward the door. I heard muted voices as I stood in the hall, and I couldn't help it as I pressed my ear to the door.
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Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Jul 29, 2009 9:56 pm

“Ryan, you liked me in high school, didn't you?”
“...”
“Ryan.”
“Yeah, I did. What's the big deal?”
“You never even told me. I'm your best friend, you told me everything. Why didn't you tell me that most important detail.”
“What was I supposed to say, Drew? 'Hey, you're known for being a ladies' man and slight pervert around the school, and you're completely straight, but I think that I might have a gay crush on you.” … “Yeah, that'd go over well.”
“Maybe it would have, if you'd told me.”
“You know that I'm a wuss. Remember in middle school when I had a crush on that one girl, and you kept trying to get me to tell her?”
“Yeah, and in the end I ended up telling her for you, and by then she already was dating someone.”
“Yeah, she was dating you, you idiot!”
The two laughed for a moment, but it sounded a bit sad, and it faded quickly. When Andrew spoke again, it sounded shy and hesitant.
“Do...do you miss him?”
I pressed my ear closer to the door, my hand clenching into a fist. I craved his answer. Part of me hoped that he'd say no, because then I could leave and know that he'd be happy, and he'd never have to see me again. I'd survive without him; barely, but I'd survive as long he was happy.
It was still silent, and I pictured Ryan looking down, perhaps biting on his rosy lip, the same lips that gave me purpose in life. There was a small scuffling sound, and I knew that Andrew had just leaned over to catch Ryan's delicious mouth in his own, and I longed to burst in there and take his place.
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FullMetal's....Well, it's Writing! Empty Re: FullMetal's....Well, it's Writing!

Post  Fullmetal tr Wed Dec 09, 2009 12:28 am

“Gay chicken,” Ethan announced dully, glaring at Scott. Scott ignored him, writing quickly on the whiteboard he'd set up in the bus.
“Gay internet chicken,” Scott corrected, turning to face the band, “We're gonna make three teams and make the internet explode. Who's up for it?”
There was a murmur of agreement among the Something guys, while Ethan muttered something that sounded like, “Not me.” Scott continued to ignore him, turning to point at the several bullet points on the board.
“First rule, no repeats. If another team already did it, you can't do it. No exceptions. Second, nothing that belongs in a porno. If Adam Lambert can't get away with something, then neither can we. We will acknowledge the difference between Frenching and not Frenching in the case of kissing.”
“Got it. Teams?” Bass asked, bouncing up and down because, really, a competition. Bass is fucking awesome at winning things.
“Names. From a hat. Kai's drawing them because he doesn't give a shit anyway.” Scott told them, brandishing one of Nova's favorite fedora's triumphantly. He shook it, and a few folded pieces of paper jumped around. Kai, looking indeed like he didn't give a shit, reached in and read the first name.
“Ethan,” he announced in a monotone, then grabbed another slip of paper, “and Seth.”
“Two cocky bastards on a team. This should be good,” Parker muttered, leaning on Kai with interest. Seth glared at him, and Ethan did the same, and it was decided then that they'd be a good team.
“Next is Ben,” Parker said before Kai could open his mouth, then he chose the next one himself and told the room that Ben was partnered with Scott. The two exchanged looks, then Scott declared Ben gay enough and pulled him into a huddle to discuss tactics.
“That leaves Nova and Bass,” Seth said with a knowing smirk. Ben, it seemed, was in a bad mood, because instead of being sympathetic he laughed and shrugged in a “hey, what can I do?” sort of way. Nova kinda hated everyone at that moment. When Nova said that to Bass, he only got a shrug and, “Dude, when do you not?” as a reply.

*

It started simple, Seth and Ethan discussing who had a bigger “package” during concerts and Scott braiding Ben's hair during interviews. Bass, as the only straight man of the group, should have felt uncomfortable, but instead threw himself into the contest with vigor. He was soon settling into Nova's lap at every available moment and telling stories about when they were younger—always a bonus with the fangirls—as he watched his score rise. The others were quickly catching up, however, and he needed to devise a plan. So, for some reason, he decided to pull Lex aside and ask for advice. In retrospect, perhaps not the best idea.
Lex, it appeared, had attended too many Nothing Rhymes with Circus shows for his own good, because he came up with an elaborate two week plan to take over the game. He took over costume design for several shows and volunteered to help make the set list, while also providing Nova with enough crazy makeup to distract him for a while. Lex decided, after some deliberation, that a mash-up is the perfect way to take the competition.
Bass said, “Hell yes.”

*

Lex told Bass the full plan five minutes before the show. Nova was another issue, but they'd cross that bridge when they got to it.
The concert began normally. They were fucking awesome, Nova sang better than usual, and Bass managed to wander over and “casually” hump Nova in between songs. They had three songs to go when Bass took the mic and said, “This is a bit unplanned, but I'd like to sing for once,” he paused for a moment as the crowd went crazy, “And even better, I'm gonna get our roadie, Lex, out here to help me out. And if Nova could just seat his skinny little ass on that stool over there--” when Nova didn't move quickly enough, still in shock, Bass walked over and slapped Nova's ass, “we'll get started.”
The lights lowered slightly, focusing on the blue and red lights only. Bass placed his bass on the stage and grabbed a mic, heading over to where Nova was sitting a bit nervously. Once Lex joined him, he nodded toward the band and the music began.
“Fer sure maybe, fer sure not. Fer sure eh, fer sure bomb. Pulled up at a stop light, did drugs on the dashboard. Look at the mess we made tonight,” Bass began to sing, grinning as Nova recognized the song.
“One, two, three, Not only you and me, got one eighty degrees, and I'm caught in between. One, two, three, Peter, Paul, and Mary, gettin' down with 3P, everybody loves-ooh,” Lex began to sing, moving to stand behind Nova with a sly look on his face. Nova glared slightly, but mostly just fidgeted on the stool and tried to not look as freaked out as he felt.
“Kick off your stilettos, kick off your stilettos. And fuck me in the backseat, fuck me in the backseat,” Bass continued, leaning over Nova and smirking into the microphone. Nova mouthed a quick “Fuck you,”, which only made Bass smile wider as he sang, “You're always falling in disguise, and always quick to compromise.”
“Babe, pick a night, to come out and play. If it's alright, what do you say?” Lex added, also leaning forward until his and Bass's mouths nearly met—the crowd screamed—before he jerked away. Nova was briefly relieved by this slight show of morals, but it didn't really help the fact that he was stuck in the same spot until Lex and Bass finished the fucking number, and Bass was sure to go out with a bang.
“Kick off your stilettos, kick off your stilettos. And fuck me in the backseat, fuck me in the backseat,” Bass repeated, circling the stool until he has taken Lex's place. Nova wondered for a moment where Lex had gone, but then the weight settling itself on his lap and the screams of the audience answered the question for him.
“Are, you in?” Lex sang, seated on Nova but looking at Bass as he sang, and Nova kept telling himself that now is not a good time to think that Lex actually has a pretty nice voice.
“Kick off your stilettos,” Bass answered, smirking as he reached down to unbutton the top button of Nova's vest. Lex—helpful as always—got the rest of them and tossed the article of clothing off the stage. Nova tried to protest, but Lex smoothly sang over him.
“Livin' in sin is the new thing—yeah,” the roadie sang, working on the top button of Nova's collared shirt, but looking at Bass, who seemed to have a permanent smirk etched onto his stupid face.
“Kick off your stilettos,” Bass sang through a chuckle as he looked at Nova's horrified expression. Nova glared, clearly telling him that it wasn't funny, but Bass just laughed a bit more at his friend's expense. “We're gonna fucking win,” he muttered, covering the microphone as he gave a thumbs up to his friend.
“Are, you in?” Lex repeated, slipping to second to last button from the hole and smirking at Nova. He planted a small kiss on his lips, not for the competition, but simply because he was almost officially dating Nova, and so he could molest him onstage all he wanted.
“Fuck me in the backseat, fuck me in the backseat,” Bass sang, a bit less enthusiastic as he saw Lex plant on on Nova. He leaned over as Lex undid the last button, and Bass took the liberty of pushing the shirt off Nova's shoulders to the floor of the stage, “Fer sure maybe, fer sure not. Fer sure eh, fer sure bomb. Pulled up at a stop light, did drugs on the dashboard. Look at the mess we made tonight.”
“One, two, three, Not only you and me, got one eighty degrees, and I'm caught in between.” Lex added, then stood up abruptly and let Bass stand in front of Nova, the roadie moving back to his original position.
“No jkjkjk lololol, I heart your fucking makeup,” Bass ran a finger under Nova's eye, picking up some eyeliner on his fingertip, “Oh my god I love your hair,” he tossed Nova's black fedora to the ground with a smirk, “Is that a new tattoo?” Bass then traced over the small tattoo of Nova's own lyrics on his right forearm, “Did that piercing fucking hurt?” he tugged the ring in Nova's lip playfully, then Lex leaned over and kissed it better, “ No jkjkjk lololol.”
“What we do is innocent, just for fun and nothin' meant. If you don't like the company, let's just do it you and me. You and me...You and me...Or three...Or four...On the floor!” Lex began to sing once more as Bass turned to raise his eyebrow at Ben, who rolled his eyes and mouthed, “You're all retards” to him. Lex, not noticing the exchange, kept singing, “One, two, three, not only you and me,”
“Kick off your stilettos,” Bass added, the biggest grin on his face.
“Got one eighty degrees, and I'm caught in between,” Lex continued, sounding breathless at that point.
“Kick off your stilettos...”
“One, two, three, Peter, Paul, and Mary, gettin' down with 3P, everybody loves-ooh!”
“And fuck me in the backseat, fuck me in the backseat,”
“Are, you in? Livin' in sin is the new thing, yeah. Are, you in?” Lex finally finished his bit and sat on Nova's lap comfortably to watch Bass end the number.
“Fer sure maybe, fer sure not. Fer sure eh, fer sure bomb!” Bass sang, as loud as her could, as the crowd went wild. Lex decided to finish by tangling his fingers in Nova's hair and kissing him in a way that would not be out of place in a porno.
“Thank you, Chicago, you were great!” Bass yelled, bowing deeply as he scurried offstage.
Fullmetal tr
Fullmetal tr
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Join date : 2009-05-22
Age : 27
Location : Watching Big Time Rush

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