Fly - Fletcher/Judd - Standalone
Title: Fly
Author: russsel
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Pairing: Fletcher/Judd
Genre: AU
Summary: Tom knows why he can't have Harry.
Prequel: Fall
A/N: Since I had nothing to do, I decided to write a sequel to Fall. Supposed to be a ficlet, but it went a few words overboard and I don't feel like taking some off. I like it just the way it is and I hope you guys will too. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
Walking down the hall, I suddenly feel light-headed, and I grab Frankie by the shoulders to prevent myself from toppling over.
“What’s wrong, Tom?” she asks, body dipping low under my weight but keeping me up nonetheless.
“Nothing,” I say, and I pull myself up to stand more properly, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.
I don’t have to look to know that Frankie is looking at me with worry, but I don’t do anything. Instead, I give a sigh and begin walking to the large wooden doors at the end, hands, after failing to find something to keep them company, digging in my pockets.
I saw the look in your eyes, and it was all I could do not to kiss you at that moment.
I can’t resist you, I think you know that, or, at least, you should know that by now, but I’m just too scared to tell you. I’m always scared, and it’s a wonder you never complain when I call you up at night when I’m having troubles; anything from the paranoid fear of burglars breaking into my house or just really needing someone to talk to. About anything. You always listen to whatever I say; no matter the subject: Star Wars, new books I’ve read, anything-you always listen. And you always watch me with fascination when I talk about just the dumbest of things, like I was telling you the cure for cancer or something really meaningful.
Most of all, you make me feel like I’m flying. Whenever I’m with you-be it just eating or watching the television together-I feel my feet take off from the ground, and I feel the clouds rush past me as I fly higher and higher and higher until it’s just you and me and the stars glittering in the sky.
And it’s because of that I’ve fallen in love with you.
“Come on, Tom, just through here,” Frankie says, opening one of the doors and waiting with a smile on the side.
I smile back with a nod and I pass through, and I hear the door slam close the next second. Frankie’s next to me before I could turn my head to the sound.
“Gio’s ready,” she says dreamily, looping her arm around mine and leading me down the aisle. “Aren’t you excited?”
“’Course I am,” I reply, taking deep, long breaths as I take in the sight around me; nearly all the flower-lined pews are occupied: some by immediate family, some by distant cousins or aunts or whatever that I’ve never really had the chance to know properly, but I still appreciate them taking time to attend the most important day of my life.
A day I’m not really too excited to be spending with you here.
I just know you’re going to be making everything so complicated, especially with you being my best man. I didn’t want to be a jerk and not inviting you, but at the same time, I wanted to be liberated in my wedding day, and you being here, watching me take Giovanna as my wife, just makes everything so much more difficult than it needs to be.
You’re the one I want to be with, Harry, and I want you to know that. I really do, and it makes me feel terrible to know that I’m taking her hand in marriage without feeling the same way as I do for you.
“I’m so proud of you,” Frankie says excitedly, giving me a kiss on the cheek before running down the aisle and straight through the doors.
I smile and turn around to walk up the steps, but not before someone beats me to the top by a second.
Lifting my head up, I see you.
You look so handsome, with your hair combed and your tuxedo fitting in all the right places. You look like it’s your wedding, and to be honest, I’ll gladly have your hand instead.
Taking my position, I try to avoid your eyes immediately and settle it down the aisle, where not a few minutes later, the doors open, and the organ begins to play.
The bridesmaids make their appearance, each holding their own bouquet of flowers, bright grins on their faces as they take steps closer. I feel my heart quicken at the procession, and I fold my hands in front of me to keep them steady. They’re shaking way too much than was really necessary.
And then it’s Giovanna’s turn down the aisle, arm around her father’s, her extravagant, elegant dress billowing behind her despite the fact that we’re in an enclosed space, and she looks at me with the widest grin her face could allow. My cheeks mirror the redness that marks hers, and I smile widely back.
She kisses her father and stands before me, bouquet slightly shaking due to her hands, and we look at each other as we wait for the priest to start.
It’s the same speech that priests say in every wedding I’ve been to, and though in their cases, it sounded monotonous, in mine, it’s something else. To know that I’m giving my life to someone for the rest of my life is such a big, scary step from being a child, but it’s also something wonderful. It means I’ll never be alone; she’ll always be there to help me through times I’d otherwise have trouble with.
But I can’t stop thinking about you.
You, with your tantalizing touches, your ways of comfort, your being, make it so hard. So hard to know that I’ll be forever bound to someone else that isn’t you.
“And do you, Thomas, take Giovanna as your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asks, and I close my eyes to pull myself out of my thoughts.
It’s better this way. I know it is.
You don’t deserve someone like me; someone who whines when he loses a game, someone who pulls you out of something important just because he needs someone to talk to, someone who cries because he thinks life isn’t fair and that God is bullying him, someone who’s too afraid to say what he feels because he’s not even sure if you feel the same way.
You deserve someone better, someone who’ll be able to do all the things you do, and I know that it’s not me.
The truth of the matter is: I don’t deserve you.
So I look at you one last time, as a free man, and I smile, hoping that I get the message across when my words don’t seem strong enough to.
You’ll find someone just for you, I just know it. The same way I have right this moment; standing before me with a smile and waiting for my significant answer.
I love you Harry, and I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I always will.
“I do.”
Author: russsel
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG
Pairing: Fletcher/Judd
Genre: AU
Summary: Tom knows why he can't have Harry.
Prequel: Fall
A/N: Since I had nothing to do, I decided to write a sequel to Fall. Supposed to be a ficlet, but it went a few words overboard and I don't feel like taking some off. I like it just the way it is and I hope you guys will too. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
Walking down the hall, I suddenly feel light-headed, and I grab Frankie by the shoulders to prevent myself from toppling over.
“What’s wrong, Tom?” she asks, body dipping low under my weight but keeping me up nonetheless.
“Nothing,” I say, and I pull myself up to stand more properly, keeping my eyes fixed ahead.
I don’t have to look to know that Frankie is looking at me with worry, but I don’t do anything. Instead, I give a sigh and begin walking to the large wooden doors at the end, hands, after failing to find something to keep them company, digging in my pockets.
I saw the look in your eyes, and it was all I could do not to kiss you at that moment.
I can’t resist you, I think you know that, or, at least, you should know that by now, but I’m just too scared to tell you. I’m always scared, and it’s a wonder you never complain when I call you up at night when I’m having troubles; anything from the paranoid fear of burglars breaking into my house or just really needing someone to talk to. About anything. You always listen to whatever I say; no matter the subject: Star Wars, new books I’ve read, anything-you always listen. And you always watch me with fascination when I talk about just the dumbest of things, like I was telling you the cure for cancer or something really meaningful.
Most of all, you make me feel like I’m flying. Whenever I’m with you-be it just eating or watching the television together-I feel my feet take off from the ground, and I feel the clouds rush past me as I fly higher and higher and higher until it’s just you and me and the stars glittering in the sky.
And it’s because of that I’ve fallen in love with you.
“Come on, Tom, just through here,” Frankie says, opening one of the doors and waiting with a smile on the side.
I smile back with a nod and I pass through, and I hear the door slam close the next second. Frankie’s next to me before I could turn my head to the sound.
“Gio’s ready,” she says dreamily, looping her arm around mine and leading me down the aisle. “Aren’t you excited?”
“’Course I am,” I reply, taking deep, long breaths as I take in the sight around me; nearly all the flower-lined pews are occupied: some by immediate family, some by distant cousins or aunts or whatever that I’ve never really had the chance to know properly, but I still appreciate them taking time to attend the most important day of my life.
A day I’m not really too excited to be spending with you here.
I just know you’re going to be making everything so complicated, especially with you being my best man. I didn’t want to be a jerk and not inviting you, but at the same time, I wanted to be liberated in my wedding day, and you being here, watching me take Giovanna as my wife, just makes everything so much more difficult than it needs to be.
You’re the one I want to be with, Harry, and I want you to know that. I really do, and it makes me feel terrible to know that I’m taking her hand in marriage without feeling the same way as I do for you.
“I’m so proud of you,” Frankie says excitedly, giving me a kiss on the cheek before running down the aisle and straight through the doors.
I smile and turn around to walk up the steps, but not before someone beats me to the top by a second.
Lifting my head up, I see you.
You look so handsome, with your hair combed and your tuxedo fitting in all the right places. You look like it’s your wedding, and to be honest, I’ll gladly have your hand instead.
Taking my position, I try to avoid your eyes immediately and settle it down the aisle, where not a few minutes later, the doors open, and the organ begins to play.
The bridesmaids make their appearance, each holding their own bouquet of flowers, bright grins on their faces as they take steps closer. I feel my heart quicken at the procession, and I fold my hands in front of me to keep them steady. They’re shaking way too much than was really necessary.
And then it’s Giovanna’s turn down the aisle, arm around her father’s, her extravagant, elegant dress billowing behind her despite the fact that we’re in an enclosed space, and she looks at me with the widest grin her face could allow. My cheeks mirror the redness that marks hers, and I smile widely back.
She kisses her father and stands before me, bouquet slightly shaking due to her hands, and we look at each other as we wait for the priest to start.
It’s the same speech that priests say in every wedding I’ve been to, and though in their cases, it sounded monotonous, in mine, it’s something else. To know that I’m giving my life to someone for the rest of my life is such a big, scary step from being a child, but it’s also something wonderful. It means I’ll never be alone; she’ll always be there to help me through times I’d otherwise have trouble with.
But I can’t stop thinking about you.
You, with your tantalizing touches, your ways of comfort, your being, make it so hard. So hard to know that I’ll be forever bound to someone else that isn’t you.
“And do you, Thomas, take Giovanna as your lawfully wedded wife?” the priest asks, and I close my eyes to pull myself out of my thoughts.
It’s better this way. I know it is.
You don’t deserve someone like me; someone who whines when he loses a game, someone who pulls you out of something important just because he needs someone to talk to, someone who cries because he thinks life isn’t fair and that God is bullying him, someone who’s too afraid to say what he feels because he’s not even sure if you feel the same way.
You deserve someone better, someone who’ll be able to do all the things you do, and I know that it’s not me.
The truth of the matter is: I don’t deserve you.
So I look at you one last time, as a free man, and I smile, hoping that I get the message across when my words don’t seem strong enough to.
You’ll find someone just for you, I just know it. The same way I have right this moment; standing before me with a smile and waiting for my significant answer.
I love you Harry, and I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I always will.
“I do.”