Blood, Punk and Heartache

Humiliated Grapes

2004-06-02T21:40:55Z

Humiliated Grapes

Pairing : Benjamin Madden / Matthew Lovato

Warnings : Mild Language, The Merciless Hunting of Innocent Noodles

Notes : I haven’t decided if I like this or not – and yes, the title was quite random!

I press myself back into the cushions of the sofa – absently folding my legs beneath me in some attempt to keep my feet warm. I push my fork through the sea of noodles contained within my Styrofoam cup, watching as bits of carrots submerge and reappear an inch or so away. Tearing my eyes away from my exceptionally late and remarkably unhealthy breakfast, I fix my gaze on the television, where ‘Benny and Joon’ is playing on mute.

I know this movie by heart, of course. So even if every other member of the band weren’t still in their bunks asleep, I wouldn’t need the volume to know what was being said. This is what guilty pleasures are made of.

I twirl my fork inside the lukewarm cup I hold – knowing that the slightly soggy noodles are being twisted around the metal prongs of the utensil. Sighing lightly, I turn my head and cast a casual glance out the window. It appears our convoy of vehicles has stopped at some hole in the wall gas station. Strange, because I could have sworn we had stopped just before I had gone to bed.

How long had I slept for?

I blink – watching as the door to one of the other buses opens. Before I can even begin to guess which bus it is or whom is going to be stepping off, I turn back to the television and lift my fork from the watery soup base. The noodles graze my bottom lip as I surrender them to my mouth, where they will meet their untimely end.

I submerge my fork once more and focus on the movie – a smile playing at my lips as I recognize the scene. “‘They used to be fat and juicy and now they’re twisted. They had their lives stolen. Well, they taste sweet – but really they’re just humiliated grapes. I can’t say I am a big supporter of the raisin council.’” I lick the excess soup base from my lips and find myself slowly twirling my fork once more – searching for new victims.

I shift slightly in my seat as I feel the familiar tingling sensation in my lower extremities – a fair enough warning that in about five minutes, my legs and/or feet are going to be completely asleep. I wiggle my toes in an attempt to curb the aforementioned tingling sensation – finding some satisfaction in my efforts as it retreats from my feet and begins to make its way back up my legs.

Wrinkling my nose as my fork scrapes the bottom of the Styrofoam cup, I lift the apparatus once more – letting it hover for a moment so as to allow any excess soup to drain back to the cup. My fork remains hovering though as I am distracted. I turn my head as I hear the groan of the bus door on its hinges.

Sunlight has the nerve to pierce the comfortable darkness that we maintain inside our bus and my eyebrows furrow in annoyance. The door is almost instantly slid shut, however and I find myself turning back to the television – lifting my fork to my lips once more as I work myself back into my routine. It won’t be long, after all, until everyone else has woken up and music and video games are all that you will be able to hear.

I appreciate the quiet, believe it or not.

Two dull thuds quickly follow this thought and I turn my head ever so slightly – a smile suddenly glossing my lips as I recognize the familiar form. His back is to me as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head – his sneakers already kicked aside. My fork rests on my bottom lip as I watch him lift his arms above his head, still trying to pull the offensive piece of clothing from his body. His shirt beneath the sweater is riding up and his Dickies are riding low – offering me the waistband of his boxers and a nice slice of golden skin to ogle.

The sweatshirt is soon cast aside – draped over the railing of the stairwell. Turning around, he offers me a smile and I simply grin back at him. His hair is tousled from his endeavor and his eyes give away the fact that he can’t have woken up more than twenty minutes ago.

Without a word, he crosses to the couch I am seated upon – settling next to me and folding his legs Indian style. Our eyes are locked and our noses are almost touching as he leans forward. My grin soon grows to a full out smile and I lower my fork from my bottom lip. Still without a word shared between us, he presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. We break away half a second later – but we’re both still smiling.

I watch as he drags his tongue along his bottom lip and tilts his head to the side. “Mm – didn’t you have those ones yesterday?” One of his arms goes around my shoulders while the other reaches for my Styrofoam cup of slightly soggy – yet perfectly doomed noodles.

I watch as he tries to read the label – a difficult feat unless he is suddenly well read in the Korean language. “Yesterday was Roasted Vegetable – today is Shin Ramyun. ‘A soup base containing a blend of dried carrot, onion and seaweed’ – as well as an unidentified spicy seasoning…” His fingers fall from the cup as he realizes he can’t make sense of the characters and he simply shrugs his shoulders.

“It honestly tastes the same as the ones you had yesterday.” The arm around my shoulder pulls me closer and I smile as I twirl my fork in my noodles once more. I am a merciless hunter of the instant pasta. “’Benny and Joon’ again, Benj? I think the addiction you have to this movie is borderline unhealthy.” His tone is almost reprimanding, but I am well aware of the fact that he can voice over the actors just as well as I can.

“What’s unhealthy is your love for ‘Jaws 3-D’. I don’t even know how you can sit through that! I cringe when I see those special effects, Matt. Honestly…” I hear him huff and I don’t even bother rolling my eyes as he snatches the fork from my hand and randomly stabs in the depths of my cup for an unsuspecting noodle or two.

It’s a fine art that I’m not sure he’ll ever master.

“That movie is a classic and you know it. The plotline should be enough to hook you. Just because you don’t find the invasion of an underwater park by sharks entertaining, doesn’t mean it’s a bad movie.” He lifts the fork and in the three seconds it takes for him to lift it to his lips, I am able to recognize the four quivering noodles that he butchered. “And the special effects weren’t that bad.” He seems slightly hesitant to make that last remark, and I know it’s because he knows that the special effects were nauseating.

I manage to pry my fork from his fingers and I return to the carefully crafted skill of noodle catching. We lapse into a comfortable silence and we’re both watching the movie – the dialogue simultaneously running through our minds like clockwork. He has a hand at the back of my neck – his thumb rubbing up and down methodically, and I briefly wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it. I tilt my head to the side, resting it against his shoulder and I smile as he rests his own head atop mine.

“Have you already watched her speech about the raisins?” The question is completely random and I have to hold back my laughter as I hear the borderline disappointment in his voice. I refrain from saying anything, and instead choose to nod my head as I bring my fork from the seasoned ocean and appreciate the appropriate amount of noodles I captured. “That’s one of the best parts…” I barely catch the muttered words, but my smile twists to a smirk as I prepare to deliver the noodles to their doom.

“Well maybe if you had gotten out of bed earlier, you would have made it over in time.” I make the comment just as I notice his hand creeping towards the remote – which was resting on the other side of me, wedged between two couch cushions. “No – no rewinding!” I hastily drop my fork back to the cup and lift both over my head in some vain attempt to avoid spilling.

He’s already lunged for the remote – a giggle brushing past his lips as I awkwardly try to both fight him off, and grab the remote. I can feel the soup base sloshing around inside the Styrofoam cup and I silently try and calculate whether or not the temperature of said liquid has cooled down enough to refrain from burning any skin it could possibly come in contact with.

“Keep your filthy little hands off my remote – Matt! No!” I throw my body backwards – pressing myself against his chest and causing him to break into a fit of laughter. His legs have extended and I mentally chastise him for thinking his socks are going to offer him proper traction against me. “You know the rule! No rewinding! Matthew, I’m serious!” I watch as one of his arms slides between my body and the back of the couch and his fingers are curling around the remote.

My empty hand wraps around his wrist while my body twists and I set my cup of noodles on the floor. I turn back and gasp as one of his arms coils around my waist. The wrist I captured is twisting madly and I know he is trying to look over my shoulder – trying to get a look at the buttons so he can hit rewind. I try and push myself forward but he holds me firmly in place – obviously determined to hear the five and a half second speech Joon made about raisins.

“Quit fighting – you won yesterday. You know that we have a strictly regimented – Benjamin!” I can’t help but giggle as my name falls from his lips in a squeal and the arm around my waist is quickly jerked back. “You fucking pinched me!” I can hear the disbelief in his voice, but I don’t stop to see if I drew blood.

I throw my body forward – snatching the remote from his hand and pulling it to my chest. I hear the sharp intake of breath behind me, and I press myself into the couch cushions – my body tightening up and my toes curling as I anticipate his next move. I briefly consider jumping up and darting to the bunks – knowing that if I scrambled into Joel’s bed and hid behind him, he wouldn’t let Matt anywhere near me.

Before I have even decided if this is the course I want to take, a heavy weight falls atop me and I gasp from the sudden impact. I can tell he is slightly annoyed… I did win the battle for the remote yesterday, so therefore – by default or not – he was supposed to win today.

But I hate rewinding my movie.

His hands are under my arms and I know he’s trying to make me giggle and/or laugh. Once I reach that point, all is lost. He’s sitting on the backs of my legs and I can feel his breath against my ear – I can also feel the warm bulge purposefully pressed against the small of my back.

“Come on Benj… Benjamin. Laugh – you know you want to.” He emphasizes this with a gentle nip at my shoulder. My body trembles with a suppressed giggle and I know he felt it too. I press my eyes closed and tighten my grip on the remote – holding it in the center of my chest and mentally refusing to lose this battle. “Don’t make me go for your weak spots… Just give me the remote. Benji…” His voice is a whine and I briefly wonder if he would actually target his assault against my well known ticklish spots.

He wouldn’t.

I hear him sigh and his hands are gone from under my arms. My body stiffens and I almost shiver with anticipation. He shifts his weight and suddenly there is a hand between my shoulder blades holding me in place. My eyes fly open. He wouldn’t. He shimmies down my legs – choosing to sit on my calves, and my heart is racing. Fingers brush the skin behind my knees and my legs jerk – going nowhere as the weight of his body holds me in place.

Apparently, he would.

“Matt, don’t you dare!” My panicked words are muffled as I get a mouthful of cushion. I try and sit up, but his hand keeps me pinned to the couch. His fingers are picking up speed as they dance over the sensitive skin and my stomach twists. “Matt – stop it! Don’t be a bastard!” The words are lost in my laugher though and his fingers are ghosting furiously over one of my weakest spots.

His hand lifts from my back and I desperately twist – tears already in my eyes and the remote loosely clutched in my hand. The fingers at the backs of my legs stop – but now his hands are on my shoulders and he’s turned me over completely. I’m pinned beneath him and he’s smiling like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“You won yesterday…” He’s laid his body atop mine and my wrists are now pinned above my head. I’m breathing too hard to comment, but I manage a smirk. “You don’t get to win two days in a row.” Those words are murmured as he rests his forehead against mine and absently drags his tongue over his bottom lip.

“I still have the remote – so technically I haven’t lost.” I’m still slightly breathless – but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Sighing lightly and tilting his head slightly, he offers me some variation of a glare. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that…” The words are nearly lost between us as he presses his lips against mine.

My eyes fall shut and I groan slightly as he pulls my bottom lip into his mouth – my lip rings absently clacking against his teeth. My arms are still pinned above my head and I let my fingers fall open – releasing the remote and not sparing it another thought. His fingers almost instantly move from my wrists, to twine with my own. I tilt my head back as the kiss is deepened and I fight the urge to smile as he presses himself against me.

I feel the moan rumble in his chest and our lips break apart moments later – each of us sucking in an adequate amount of air. Our eyes flutter open in an almost synchronized manner and I have to smile. He matches my grin, and ducks his head down once more – properly prepared to trace the contours of my mouth. I can feel his breath against my lips and my stomach flutters.

“Do you really feel the need to defile my brother so early on in the day, Matt?” I laugh softly as my brother walks past us – stooping right beside our heads and claiming my forgotten noodles. He offers us each a smile, quite obviously relishing in the bright crimson that he managed to paint Matt’s face. “Good morning – afternoon.” He pauses and looks between the two of us before smirking. “Oh please, don’t let me interrupt.” He snatches the abandoned remote and takes a seat on the couch directly adjacent us.

I hear a soft groan and Matt seems to sag on top of me – burying his face in the crook of my neck as he untwines our fingers and folds his hands behind his neck.

“’Benny and Joon’ again, Benj?” I roll my eyes at my brother’s question – pointedly trying to ignore the amateur slurp of soggy noodles that sounds. “Have you gotten to her speech about the raisins, yet?” I hesitate, and during that time, Joel seems to realize that that part has indeed passed.

I press my eyes closed and feel Matt lift himself up slightly… Not a minute later he starts laughing. I drag my eyes open and see that the movie is indeed playing in reverse at an accelerated speed. Dipping his head down once more, Matt rests his lips beside my ear – his breath tickling my skin as his whispers those damned words.

“I win.”

Screaming Infidelities

2004-06-01T23:02:34Z

Screaming Infidelities

Pairing : Benjamin Madden / Matthew Lovato

Warnings : Suggested Male Pregnancy, Mild Language

Notes : This is the first story I’ve written and finished

I can feel the tears building in the back of my eyes – creating an almost unbearable pressure. Behind those tears there is so much more, though. My insecurities are flaring up and old wounds that never quite healed are quickly being doused with salt. My throat is tightening and I’m finding it hard to swallow – but he has his arms around me and his breath is burning my skin as he whispers apologies over and over again in my ear.

“…so sorry. I love you so much – so much, baby.”

That single word makes me cringe and I feel nauseous. I can almost sense the bile rising – climbing the walls of my esophagus. I press my eyes shut and try to restrain the urge to paint the carpet of our bedroom with my semi-digested dinner. His hand is trembling, but running back and forth across my stomach in some insignificant attempt to calm either me or him – perhaps both of us.

“…worst mistake of my life. Please… Please forgive me.”

I feel his lips press to my temple, and that seems to wake me from my stupor. I pull myself from his grasp – his fingers trailing across my slightly expanded abdomen and grasping at my hips before I am out of arms’ reach. I haven’t spoken since the stomach-turning admission fell from his lips. In all honesty, I’m scared to open my mouth. I’m positively certain every frowned upon word I know would be shouted as loud as I could manage – but considering the slumbering four year old directly across the hall, I think it would be best if I continued to restrain myself.

“’Jamin…” His voice breaks as he whispers the endearment. I can hear the anxiety in his voice – the trepidation of what the consequences for this may be. “I never meant for it to happen – I never meant to…” His voice dies as he can’t bring himself to say it.

I keep my eyes pressed tightly shut - my arms are folded across my chest and my nails are digging into my palms as my hands fold to fists. “You never meant to taint our relationship…” I manage to keep firm control of how loud I murmur those words – but there was no way of holding back the pain and bitterness that accompanied them.

“No…” The word is almost moaned. A pathetic moan that has left him teetering on the brink of tears. “It’s not tainted. That…” He knows how serious this is. I know he knows because I can hear him struggling to catch a breath as he fights to keep a tight rein on him emotions. “That didn’t mean anything, ‘Jamin. It doesn’t have to change anything. Please…” I simply shake my head – my heart wrenching at his words.

It changes everything.

Fingers suddenly brush against my shoulder and I flinch away – my eyes flying open as I turn to face him. It pains me to look in those eyes – the familiar chestnut that I once found so much comfort in… Now I feel cold. I can see the tears glistening so brightly, waiting for the moment… The opportunity to fall and stain his cheeks. There is no comfort to be found in his pain – in his uncertainties.

My arms fall to my sides – one hand gently pressing against my stomach. “It did mean something, Matt…” I blink and as my eyes flutter open I can feel the bittersweet release cascade down my cheek. I pause, watching as his chest heaves up and down with the effort to breathe – his eyes fixated on my hand. “It meant enough for you to jeopardize this… It meant enough for you to accept that you were risking everything we’ve worked for.” My voice is hardly more than a trembling whisper, but I know he’s heard me.

“’Jamin, just listen to me – please.” I can tell by the desperate expression that paints his face, now, that he knows that no amount of apologizing is going to fix this disaster he’s created. “Benji, just… Just listen, okay?” He anxiously runs his palms against the fabric of his Dickies, and I swear I can almost hear his heart beating.

I wonder if he can hear mine breaking.

“I love you… I love you and I love our son – and I love that little miracle that’s growing inside of you.” I press my eyes tightly shut once more as I hear his voice catch in the middle of that desperate statement. If I had waited half a second longer, I would have seen the first tears slip from his tired eyes. “I… I love what we have together – what we’ve worked for so long at building. I love that I know that you love it too.” My hand leaves my stomach to cover my eyes – my entire body shakes as a vicious sob forces its way past my lips.

It feels like my soul was just ripped from my body.

I hear a hitch in his breathing and I wish I could feel some satisfaction that he is feeling at least a third of the pain that I am. “You know me… You know me so much better than anyone else, Benj.” His voice is barely a whisper now and I wonder how close he is to me. “Deep down you know that I never wanted this to happen. Please… Please see that, ‘Jamin.”

Fingers are suddenly brushing my ebony hair back from my forehead, and I feel his hand contour to my hip bone. He’s pulling my trembling body to his own – he wants to make this better. He wants me to let him make this better. What he wants is for me to pretend like this never happened…

I shake my head and my hand falls from my eyes. More tears fall and they feel like liquid fire against my skin. Shaking my head once more, I can’t do it.

“Don’t…” My voice is muffled against his shirt and I’m not sure if he heard me or not. I lift my arms – pressing my hands against his chest in some effort to push him away. “Let go…” A soft sob causes my chest to heave and his arms only tighten around me. I feel like I’m suffocating in the arms that used to hold me when I needed reassurance. “Let go of me!” My voice rises drastically as I push him away with all the strength I can muster in my current state.

I watch as he stumbles back – barely catching himself as his footing falters. My entire body is shaking and I wouldn’t be able to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks if I tried. His eyes are wide, and at that moment he looked as if he could double over and expel the contents of his stomach.

“You... You think…” I’m so worked up that I don’t even realize that I am nearly shouting at him. “You can’t honestly think you can fix this, Matt!” My own gut clenches as those words leave my mouth – I can’t even imagine what he’s feeling. Whatever that is, though – he deserves it. “You can’t honestly believe I am going to let you convince me that this was a complete and total fucking accident!” My mind isn’t on my four year old son across the hall, whom isn’t the heaviest of sleepers…

What I’m trying to wrap my mind around, is how I ended up in this gigantic mess.

“Are you even comprehending the damage that you’ve caused?” I barely spare half a second to drag the heel of my palm across my cheeks, ridding them of any sign of my emotional distress. He is gaping like a fish out of water and I take a stab in the dark at guessing he wasn’t expecting me to get angry for another twenty to thirty-five minutes. “You do understand that Jeremiah is probably standing there right now trying to explain to my brother that he made some horrible kind of mistake, don’t you? Before anything else, Matthew, please tell me that the two of you realize how much fucking damage you’ve done!” My voice cracks as I scream at him.

And suddenly, it’s all too much.

I stumble sideways - lowering myself to the edge of the bed as I’m overwhelmed with tears and sobs and everything that accompanies them. I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands – for no other reason than I don’t know what else to do. There is a long stretch of silence between us, and the only sounds in the room are those of my breakdown, and of his ragged breathing.

The bed sinks down suddenly as he hesitantly sets himself down next to me. Neither of us speak, but his arm wraps around my shoulders and I just don’t have the energy or the motivation to pull away. After a moment, he gently pulls my body towards his. Both of his arms are now securely fitted around me and his nose is buried in my hair. I press my face against his shoulder and relish in the fact that he doesn’t smell of sweat or sex or of any other person. It’s something I’ve never had to appreciate before…

“I love you.”

And those three words falling from his lips have never caused so much pain.

Linking

2004-03-31T19:11:05Z

Just seeing if I am smart enough to figure out how to link. Well?

Linking

2004-03-31T19:09:43Z

Now let's see if I am smart enough to figure out linking. If this linked, then it worked. Well?

Yay!

2004-03-31T18:13:25Z

Ha, finally got it to work.

Testing

2004-03-31T00:52:50Z

Testing