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winglessangel89
winglessangel89
.: ... ::: .::: ..:: :. ..:.....
February 2011
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winglessangel89 [userpic]
Cake fanfic

This is a fanfic reply to what's going on in Cake world.  Stop hating on Bshorty!!!  Be nice.  That is all.  It's a short one-shot.

PS I don't own either Blakey or Richie or any of Green Day's music.  And I suck at disclaimers.

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I was just laying in my bunk, quietly listening to music.  The noise filled my hollow thoughts.  I had already spent all day thinking.

It’s something unpredictable but in the end is right… I hope you had the time of your life…

The words seemed to repeat, over and over in my head.  I felt a knot in my stomach, like they were directed at me.  Had.  Past tense.  Why was it that recently every bittersweet, or even just plain depressing, lyric or quote sounded like they were meant for my ears only?  I bit my lip and turned on my stomach, pulling the signature iPod buds from my ears.  I needed to get rid of these thoughts.  I needed to just stop thinking.  I groaned covering my face with my hands.  What’s wrong with me?  I needed to just sleep, like everyone else.

But it was impossible.  No matter how long I lay there, no matter how hard I tried to clear my mind, I couldn’t sleep.  Finally, giving into insomnia, I pulled out my laptop silently while making sure to not wake up anyone up.  Even after it had loaded, I just stared at it.  Normally I would have gone straight to the internet to check up on what fans were saying, so I stared at the icon on my screen.  The mouse arrow hovered over it for a good minute, but the lump in my throat seemed to keep me from double clicking.  Finally I tore myself away from paying attention that particular icon and played a couple games.  I had to smirk to myself as I won a game of solitaire, but my eyes had once again drifted to the internet icon.

I groaned once more, and even slapped myself, trying to punish myself.  But I knew already that I was going to check.  I already knew what was coming.  It had been getting worse each time I checked.  Sometimes I’d catch Chris when I was certain he was checking the internet.  He’d quickly close out of the screen, but the torn look on his face told me all I needed to know.  I was hated.

I didn’t even feel my hand move as the site loaded.  I stared at it, the words slowly sinking it.

Whore.  Douche.  Asshole.  Arrogant.  Hate.

Hate.  My eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from that word.  People I’d never even met… People that would have never even known I existed if it weren’t for American Idol… hated me.  I started shaking, and water dripped onto my keyboard.  I reached up and touched my cheeks.  It took a second to sink in that I was crying. 

“Blakey?  Are you awake?”  The curtain to my bunk was peeled away as a half-awake face appeared in front of me.  My eyes widened in shock.  Not now…  I was the strong one.  It was unspoken in the relationship, but I was the one that always had to be together.  No matter what happened.   Yes, it was Chris that always assured me that love was okay, even between men, but that seemed different.  Chris was constantly afraid that I was hurt, so I had to be strong.  I had to make him believe that it didn’t hurt when I saw what people said.  Yet, here I was, crying alone in the middle of the night.

I opened my mouth to make an excuse, but the words wouldn’t form.

His face, suddenly more awake, seemed to drop.  His eyes seemed glossy.  Without saying a word he wrapped an arm around me and held onto my head.  It felt strange, but pleasant.  I reached up, grabbing his shirt and, as tears fell more readily, I found a way to hiccup, “Why, Chris?  Why is it like this?”

I felt his grip tighten as he whispered softly, “They’re wrong, Blakey.  They don’t know you.”

I pulled away, just far enough to stare into his pure eyes.  His eyes that always seemed to save me.  Closing my eyes, I reached up, cradling his head and caressing his neck with my thumb.  I leaned in and my mouth met his.  I knew what to expect, but each time his sweet taste seemed to surprise me.  Our tongues connected and gently twisted together as I seemed to melt inside of him.  We both retreated instinctively, but our foreheads were still touching.  Our eyes opened, and I realized we were both smiling.

“Depend on me, Blake.  I want you to depend on me.  After all, I love you.”  His sweet words, on his sweet lips.  I loved this man.  Then suddenly, I realized.  After all this time, Chris was the strong one.  But so was I.  We had gotten as far as we have because we supported each other and loved each other completely.  No matter what people said, no matter how much I, or Chris for that matter, hurt, we would get through it together.  As long as this man was by my side, I could cry but wake up to a brand new morning.

As my arms wrapped more fully around Chris, I felt my worries disappear.  And as I was finally able to fall asleep I murmured, “It’s not past tense, is it?  You’re in my now.”

Somewhere, close to me, I heard a tired laugh.  “You really are weird…”

Current Mood: annoyedannoyed
Current Music: "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Green Day