[fic] I Wanna Lay You Down (on a Bed of Roses)
Title: I Wanna Lay You Down (on a Bed of Roses)
Genre: Romance/Humor
Fandom: BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!
Characters/Pairings: Vincent/Teddy
Rating: G
Summary: Vincent is attached to his bed (and no, this is not meant to be taken seriously).
Words: 852
--
Vincent sniffs as he clutches on the sheets as if his life depends on it. He hasn’t stopped wailing, not really, because he’s still making these loud whimpers and cries, but at least he’s not yelling like a boy finding out that that dog with the softest golden fur can’t be his. He couldn’t breathe enough to try.
Teddy sighs as sits on the bed cautiously. Every time he tried to climb on the drunk boy’s bed, Vincent would sob harder, as if what Teddy was doing wasn’t trying to comfort Vincent but more trying to defile the memory of the mattress. He thinks Vincent should’ve gotten over that by now, seeing as this situation’s been going on for nearly an hour. He nearly sighs in relief when Vincent doesn’t seem to react violently. He slowly scoots closer to Vincent, trying to disturb him as little as possible, and Vincent doesn’t seem to mind. The athlete wiggles closer to Teddy and the tension finally leaves Teddy’s body. But apparently the blonde’s not completely fine with it because when he tries to lie down next to Vincent, Vincent practically squeals in pain.
Teddy shoots up from the bed but Vincent doesn’t want that too, because he suddenly latches unto him and yanks him to his body. He shushes Vincent when the boy starts to cry on his hair and chants, why why why whywhywhy.
He didn’t know Vincent could be so attached to his bed. Vincent has never been the overly sentimental type, but after Teddy deposited him on it after a possible overdose of alcohol, he started weeping and crying and sobbing about how he didn’t want it to go it’s so special to him why doesn’t his mom understand that? Teddy knows how his mother decided to give Vincent a new mattress because this one’s been with him for nearly ten years and that is just sad. Teddy’s sure Vincent didn’t truly protest against that so he thinks Vincent’s being a little dramatic here. If Cassandra knew Vincent liked his bed enough to drunkenly mourn over it, he’s sure Cassandra will let him keep it, at least, for a year or so.
“I-I don’t,” Vincent hiccups, “I ca-can’t let them take it away. Tha-that’s not f-f-fair. It’s ma-mine! I love i-it and I would fa-fuck it if I could!” He wails into the sheets and, as if to prove the legitimacy of his statement, starts thrusting unto the bed.
“Ssh, Vincent, stop,” Teddy pets him and tries to hold his hips still.
Vincent has the decency to follow Teddy. He hiccups again. “Si-see? I would fuck it and then it wu-would be mi-nn-ne and the-they can’t take it away because I ka-claimed it.”
Teddy doesn’t even have it in him to laugh because it’s reached the point of being just pitiful. He sighs as he wraps his arm around him and combs his hair.
“Why do you care about the bed so much, Vincent?” he murmurs.
Vincent turns to him, still pathetically crying and all, as if he only registers now that Teddy is here and is the one he’s been moaning to. He blinks at him before seemingly thinking deep, probably trying to remember what Teddy’s question was. And then his eyes widen comically and he’s turning to Teddy and staring disbelievingly.
“You don’t know?”
Teddy is the one blinking this time. Should he?
“…Vincent, I don’t.”
Vincent glares at him hard, like he’s trying to will Teddy to burn into ashes. “You should,” he hisses. He twists swiftly to his other side. On the bright side, Vincent’s stopped his crying.
“Vincent,”-he tries to sit up but Vincent yelps and tugs his arms back around him again-“Vincent, what’ so special about this bed?”
Vincent answers with a ‘hmph!’ Teddy purses his lips before grabbing a hold of Vincent’s waist and manhandling him to face him again. He figures Vincent will be more forgiving if he was looking at Teddy’s face. Vincent pouts at him, either over his allegedly immoral ignorance or changing his position.
“What makes the bed so special?” Teddy asks warmly.
And then Vincent looks down almost shyly. He plays with the buttons of Teddy’s shirt, acting as bashful as a little lamb and Teddy attempts comforting him again, petting his head and telling him it’s alright.
Vincent’s eyes flicker up and the action causes heat to unfurl in his stomach. Teddy smiles, enough encouragement in it that it causes Vincent to mumble, “it’s our bed,” and that. Well. That makes Teddy stop everything he’s doing. Vincent whimpers again, afraid. Teddy shushes him again and combs his hair. That…explains a lot. A ridiculously big amount of lot. And obscures a lot. The heat reaches to the tips of his toes.
Vincent sniffles again, and Teddy realizes he’s crying again, not full-on sobbing, but still mournful. It causes him to laugh incredulously and rub Vincent’s eyes dry. He pulls Vincent closer until they’re pressed against each other and Vincent snuggles up to him.
“Then your new bed will also be our bed, from the start until the end.”
~*~
Okay, so I went back to my BFF fics and I noticed that all my Vincent/Teddy fics include them lying beside each other on a bed. Okay, seriously, I understand if it's happened two times consecutively but three? I don't even know. So I decided to make a little something about Vincent being attached to his bed.
This turned out longer than I expected, but it was too much fun writing about completely-drunk-off-his-ass!Vincent.
Also, I do believe this is how Vincent will be if he was completely shit-faced. Don't care what you say nope.
Genre: Romance/Humor
Fandom: BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!
Characters/Pairings: Vincent/Teddy
Rating: G
Summary: Vincent is attached to his bed (and no, this is not meant to be taken seriously).
Words: 852
--
Vincent sniffs as he clutches on the sheets as if his life depends on it. He hasn’t stopped wailing, not really, because he’s still making these loud whimpers and cries, but at least he’s not yelling like a boy finding out that that dog with the softest golden fur can’t be his. He couldn’t breathe enough to try.
Teddy sighs as sits on the bed cautiously. Every time he tried to climb on the drunk boy’s bed, Vincent would sob harder, as if what Teddy was doing wasn’t trying to comfort Vincent but more trying to defile the memory of the mattress. He thinks Vincent should’ve gotten over that by now, seeing as this situation’s been going on for nearly an hour. He nearly sighs in relief when Vincent doesn’t seem to react violently. He slowly scoots closer to Vincent, trying to disturb him as little as possible, and Vincent doesn’t seem to mind. The athlete wiggles closer to Teddy and the tension finally leaves Teddy’s body. But apparently the blonde’s not completely fine with it because when he tries to lie down next to Vincent, Vincent practically squeals in pain.
Teddy shoots up from the bed but Vincent doesn’t want that too, because he suddenly latches unto him and yanks him to his body. He shushes Vincent when the boy starts to cry on his hair and chants, why why why whywhywhy.
He didn’t know Vincent could be so attached to his bed. Vincent has never been the overly sentimental type, but after Teddy deposited him on it after a possible overdose of alcohol, he started weeping and crying and sobbing about how he didn’t want it to go it’s so special to him why doesn’t his mom understand that? Teddy knows how his mother decided to give Vincent a new mattress because this one’s been with him for nearly ten years and that is just sad. Teddy’s sure Vincent didn’t truly protest against that so he thinks Vincent’s being a little dramatic here. If Cassandra knew Vincent liked his bed enough to drunkenly mourn over it, he’s sure Cassandra will let him keep it, at least, for a year or so.
“I-I don’t,” Vincent hiccups, “I ca-can’t let them take it away. Tha-that’s not f-f-fair. It’s ma-mine! I love i-it and I would fa-fuck it if I could!” He wails into the sheets and, as if to prove the legitimacy of his statement, starts thrusting unto the bed.
“Ssh, Vincent, stop,” Teddy pets him and tries to hold his hips still.
Vincent has the decency to follow Teddy. He hiccups again. “Si-see? I would fuck it and then it wu-would be mi-nn-ne and the-they can’t take it away because I ka-claimed it.”
Teddy doesn’t even have it in him to laugh because it’s reached the point of being just pitiful. He sighs as he wraps his arm around him and combs his hair.
“Why do you care about the bed so much, Vincent?” he murmurs.
Vincent turns to him, still pathetically crying and all, as if he only registers now that Teddy is here and is the one he’s been moaning to. He blinks at him before seemingly thinking deep, probably trying to remember what Teddy’s question was. And then his eyes widen comically and he’s turning to Teddy and staring disbelievingly.
“You don’t know?”
Teddy is the one blinking this time. Should he?
“…Vincent, I don’t.”
Vincent glares at him hard, like he’s trying to will Teddy to burn into ashes. “You should,” he hisses. He twists swiftly to his other side. On the bright side, Vincent’s stopped his crying.
“Vincent,”-he tries to sit up but Vincent yelps and tugs his arms back around him again-“Vincent, what’ so special about this bed?”
Vincent answers with a ‘hmph!’ Teddy purses his lips before grabbing a hold of Vincent’s waist and manhandling him to face him again. He figures Vincent will be more forgiving if he was looking at Teddy’s face. Vincent pouts at him, either over his allegedly immoral ignorance or changing his position.
“What makes the bed so special?” Teddy asks warmly.
And then Vincent looks down almost shyly. He plays with the buttons of Teddy’s shirt, acting as bashful as a little lamb and Teddy attempts comforting him again, petting his head and telling him it’s alright.
Vincent’s eyes flicker up and the action causes heat to unfurl in his stomach. Teddy smiles, enough encouragement in it that it causes Vincent to mumble, “it’s our bed,” and that. Well. That makes Teddy stop everything he’s doing. Vincent whimpers again, afraid. Teddy shushes him again and combs his hair. That…explains a lot. A ridiculously big amount of lot. And obscures a lot. The heat reaches to the tips of his toes.
Vincent sniffles again, and Teddy realizes he’s crying again, not full-on sobbing, but still mournful. It causes him to laugh incredulously and rub Vincent’s eyes dry. He pulls Vincent closer until they’re pressed against each other and Vincent snuggles up to him.
“Then your new bed will also be our bed, from the start until the end.”
~*~
Okay, so I went back to my BFF fics and I noticed that all my Vincent/Teddy fics include them lying beside each other on a bed. Okay, seriously, I understand if it's happened two times consecutively but three? I don't even know. So I decided to make a little something about Vincent being attached to his bed.
This turned out longer than I expected, but it was too much fun writing about completely-drunk-off-his-ass!Vincent.
Also, I do believe this is how Vincent will be if he was completely shit-faced. Don't care what you say nope.