Sequel: Hesitating and Suffocating ›
Status: finished.
Together by This Christmas Tree
like christmas lights, oh what a sight.
cally mcgregor
I woke up to a tangle of arms and legs and all intentions of laying there all morning, John holding me close enough for me to hear his heartbeat, which was slow and gentle, a lullaby to lull me back to sleep. John smirked against my back. “Morning, babe,” He said, his words verging on a slight British accent, one that sounded like Max Helyer from You Me At Six, someone I had once known so well.
“Morning, John,” I murmured, despite my entire body shaking with a fear that Sumner would find out, that John would find some reason to make this wrong, or for something to fuck everything up.
“What do we have to do today?” He murmured, his lips moving against my back, muffling everything. “Or can we just lay here all day?”
“Sadly,” I said, turning over to face him, his tattooed chest all I could see. “I have to help Gemma decorate with the rest of the bridesmaids, and you are going to help Henry stock the bar and do other things boys do.” I snuggled into his chest and smirked as his arms tightened.
“Gemma will be up here any minute, you know,” John said, slowly letting his arms go limp around me as I pushed the covers off us, sitting up slowly as a rush of blood rose to my head. I groaned, but swung my feet over the side and began digging through the suitcase as suddenly, I realized that the wedding was in two days.
“You should get up too, John Cornelius,” I said, holding a stack of clothes in my arms and twisting my hair around my fingers. John grumbled about it, but did as he was told, stretching and revealing his plaid boxers beneath his tight jeans. I snickered and he stuck his tongue out, walking towards his room.
This wasn’t what I wanted, but it was okay, for so many reasons. I was here, with my best friends, and the man I was slowly falling for, along with a hundred and fifty people I had never met and people I would be reunited with after far too many years.
As I sang to myself, I could hear the soft British accent coming back to my throat and words, a slight slur almost. It was a habit I had picked up with both Max and Howie, as well as Henry. Henry had told me it wasn’t unusual for me to pick it up after spending a year here when Gemma first moved here. I shook my head. Funny how things change.
John, alongside Gemma, opened my bathroom door just as I pulled a sweater over my head. “Nice singing,” Gemma teased, and I flipped her off jokingly as I outlined my eyes with eyeliner. “I’m kidding, babe! You’re becoming quite a little British girl. Interesting how things never worked out with that Max boy.”
Ah, back to Max, as always. We went to a YMAS show once, and the bar next door happened to be their bar of choice. I struck up conversation with Max, and we became friends. But things, as always, changed when he started touring more often and I went home to the states. He still called sometimes. I smiled as John suddenly looked slightly worried, to which I smirked.
“What’s for breakfast, Gemma? I’m simply starved.” I kept my British accent heavy and thick as Gemma flipped me off, leading John downstairs as he slid his arm around my waist, just like we were actually together. But that was only in my dreams.
I woke up to a tangle of arms and legs and all intentions of laying there all morning, John holding me close enough for me to hear his heartbeat, which was slow and gentle, a lullaby to lull me back to sleep. John smirked against my back. “Morning, babe,” He said, his words verging on a slight British accent, one that sounded like Max Helyer from You Me At Six, someone I had once known so well.
“Morning, John,” I murmured, despite my entire body shaking with a fear that Sumner would find out, that John would find some reason to make this wrong, or for something to fuck everything up.
“What do we have to do today?” He murmured, his lips moving against my back, muffling everything. “Or can we just lay here all day?”
“Sadly,” I said, turning over to face him, his tattooed chest all I could see. “I have to help Gemma decorate with the rest of the bridesmaids, and you are going to help Henry stock the bar and do other things boys do.” I snuggled into his chest and smirked as his arms tightened.
“Gemma will be up here any minute, you know,” John said, slowly letting his arms go limp around me as I pushed the covers off us, sitting up slowly as a rush of blood rose to my head. I groaned, but swung my feet over the side and began digging through the suitcase as suddenly, I realized that the wedding was in two days.
“You should get up too, John Cornelius,” I said, holding a stack of clothes in my arms and twisting my hair around my fingers. John grumbled about it, but did as he was told, stretching and revealing his plaid boxers beneath his tight jeans. I snickered and he stuck his tongue out, walking towards his room.
This wasn’t what I wanted, but it was okay, for so many reasons. I was here, with my best friends, and the man I was slowly falling for, along with a hundred and fifty people I had never met and people I would be reunited with after far too many years.
As I sang to myself, I could hear the soft British accent coming back to my throat and words, a slight slur almost. It was a habit I had picked up with both Max and Howie, as well as Henry. Henry had told me it wasn’t unusual for me to pick it up after spending a year here when Gemma first moved here. I shook my head. Funny how things change.
John, alongside Gemma, opened my bathroom door just as I pulled a sweater over my head. “Nice singing,” Gemma teased, and I flipped her off jokingly as I outlined my eyes with eyeliner. “I’m kidding, babe! You’re becoming quite a little British girl. Interesting how things never worked out with that Max boy.”
Ah, back to Max, as always. We went to a YMAS show once, and the bar next door happened to be their bar of choice. I struck up conversation with Max, and we became friends. But things, as always, changed when he started touring more often and I went home to the states. He still called sometimes. I smiled as John suddenly looked slightly worried, to which I smirked.
“What’s for breakfast, Gemma? I’m simply starved.” I kept my British accent heavy and thick as Gemma flipped me off, leading John downstairs as he slid his arm around my waist, just like we were actually together. But that was only in my dreams.