It's True That We Love One Another
Title: It's True That We Love One Another
Band/Pairing: Gerard Way/Jack White (the White Stripes)
Author: bestxwillxfall
Rating: PG
Summary: Just a happy little stand alone that was inspired by the White Stripes song "It's True That We Love One Another".
Disclaimer: This didn’t happen.
Notes: Reviews are nice, criticism is wonderful!
His hair was black, like yours. His eyes were brown, like yours. Well, sometimes they were brown, other times they were black. It was hard to tell because those eyes reflected light really easily. Everyone said that you looked like him; you even got accused of being a Jack White wannabe when the June SPIN made its debut. But you never thought that you looked like him, no, you thought that he was better looking that you were.
And you were right. You would rather spend a minute with him than an hour with Frank, just so you could look at those eyes that would rarely look back at yours. Sometimes you wondered why he never looked at you, why his attention was always averted elsewhere whenever you were near him. Maybe he didn’t talk to you because he knew you totally stole his bands colors.
No, that’s not it. Red, black and white were very common colors. It’s not as if Jack and Meg had put a copyright on them, after all, they should only have one color. White. It’s in their band name. But that still doesn’t answer why he won’t talk to you. Why he won’t even look at you. Why he won’t even acknowledge that you’re there.
Jack I think you’re pulling my leg, so I think that I better ask Meg.
“Meg, why does Jack ignore me?” You ask one day, practically chasing Meg down from a rush of fans that had seemed more obsessed with her band mate than her.
“Maybe you should ask him.”
Well I would but Meg, but I really just don’t know how.
Those lyrics from that song keep popping up into your head. It’s not even that good of a song; he’s the only one of the three that is really able to sing. Meg sounds like an off tune three year old and Holly sounds like, well, you don’t know what she sounds like, but whatever it is, it’s not that good.
You nod at Meg and give a small smile of thanks. She goes back to her fans that are now clawing at each other in order to get at least a quick glimpse of him. You don’t blame them, he’s gorgeous. If you were a fan, you probably would have killed one of those girls by now.
Today he’s wearing that stupid belt with his name on it. You don’t really think it’s stupid, but it’s nice to criticize at least something about him. He can’t be as perfect as he seems, there must be something horribly wrong with him that he is clever enough to hide. He likes country; there is something that is wrong with him. He even produced that Loretta Lynn record. She might even be a worse singer than Meg.
Don’t use your wrath on some old woman who didn’t do anything to you. You tell yourself. And don’t use it on Meg, either. She’s nice, you should be nice back.
After a while of looking at your feet, you decide to talk to him. You say some polite greeting and he smiles politely back, but looking away quickly. You get a little annoyed, but not to bad. You’re used to this by now. You decide to keep talking to him, even if he doesn’t want to talk to you.
“So that Loretta Lynn album,” you say slowly, trying to find a good complement that isn’t a flat out lie. “It’s good, I mean, for being a country record.”
He slowly grins and looks at you. Right in the eyes. The shock of this action makes you want to look away, but you use all you have in you to stare back at him. By the way he looks at you, it’s like he’s trying to read your mind. Or maybe he is reading your mind.
“She’s a great artist,” he says slowly. “Do you really like it, or were you just saying that?”
“Some of the songs are okay,” you shrug. He sees right through you and laughs.
“I guess it’s not for everyone,” he crosses his legs and you look away, staring at the wall in front of you. You’re to busy concentrating on the wall to notice that he’s stood up and is walking towards you. But you do notice when he takes your hand and smiles, and you smile back either sweetly or stupidly. You can’t tell. Hopefully neither can he.
“You have nice eyes,” he complements, his thumb moving slowly back and forth on the back of your hand. You blush.
“Not as nice as yours,”
Well Holly I love you too, but there’s just so much that I don’t know about you.
He moves in closer to you, but you back away slightly. A lot of questions are running through your mind and you’d rather have them answered first. He looks at you, perplexed, like he hasn’t been rejected like that before. You remind yourself that he probably hasn’t.
“I want to know why you never look at me, or notice me,” you say, trying to sound steady, trying to stop your voice from shaking, but you fail.
“Believe me, Gerard, I notice you,” he says, staring straight into your eyes again. He hasn’t answered your other question, but this is enough for now. You relax and let him do what he wants to you. He leans in again, slower this time, as if testing you out, seeing if you’ll reject him again.
But you don’t. You let him kiss you, and you let him run his hands up and down your sides and over your chest. You wrap your own arms around him, pulling him closer. He smiles and kisses you more. His eyes are closed and so are yours, and right now, that’s how you want them.
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Note: I love Loretta Lynn with all my heart. And I love Meg and Holly's voices, too. I wanted to say this so you didn't get mad at me for "dissing" them. :)
Archived at: inxourxdesign
Band/Pairing: Gerard Way/Jack White (the White Stripes)
Author: bestxwillxfall
Rating: PG
Summary: Just a happy little stand alone that was inspired by the White Stripes song "It's True That We Love One Another".
Disclaimer: This didn’t happen.
Notes: Reviews are nice, criticism is wonderful!
His hair was black, like yours. His eyes were brown, like yours. Well, sometimes they were brown, other times they were black. It was hard to tell because those eyes reflected light really easily. Everyone said that you looked like him; you even got accused of being a Jack White wannabe when the June SPIN made its debut. But you never thought that you looked like him, no, you thought that he was better looking that you were.
And you were right. You would rather spend a minute with him than an hour with Frank, just so you could look at those eyes that would rarely look back at yours. Sometimes you wondered why he never looked at you, why his attention was always averted elsewhere whenever you were near him. Maybe he didn’t talk to you because he knew you totally stole his bands colors.
No, that’s not it. Red, black and white were very common colors. It’s not as if Jack and Meg had put a copyright on them, after all, they should only have one color. White. It’s in their band name. But that still doesn’t answer why he won’t talk to you. Why he won’t even look at you. Why he won’t even acknowledge that you’re there.
Jack I think you’re pulling my leg, so I think that I better ask Meg.
“Meg, why does Jack ignore me?” You ask one day, practically chasing Meg down from a rush of fans that had seemed more obsessed with her band mate than her.
“Maybe you should ask him.”
Well I would but Meg, but I really just don’t know how.
Those lyrics from that song keep popping up into your head. It’s not even that good of a song; he’s the only one of the three that is really able to sing. Meg sounds like an off tune three year old and Holly sounds like, well, you don’t know what she sounds like, but whatever it is, it’s not that good.
You nod at Meg and give a small smile of thanks. She goes back to her fans that are now clawing at each other in order to get at least a quick glimpse of him. You don’t blame them, he’s gorgeous. If you were a fan, you probably would have killed one of those girls by now.
Today he’s wearing that stupid belt with his name on it. You don’t really think it’s stupid, but it’s nice to criticize at least something about him. He can’t be as perfect as he seems, there must be something horribly wrong with him that he is clever enough to hide. He likes country; there is something that is wrong with him. He even produced that Loretta Lynn record. She might even be a worse singer than Meg.
Don’t use your wrath on some old woman who didn’t do anything to you. You tell yourself. And don’t use it on Meg, either. She’s nice, you should be nice back.
After a while of looking at your feet, you decide to talk to him. You say some polite greeting and he smiles politely back, but looking away quickly. You get a little annoyed, but not to bad. You’re used to this by now. You decide to keep talking to him, even if he doesn’t want to talk to you.
“So that Loretta Lynn album,” you say slowly, trying to find a good complement that isn’t a flat out lie. “It’s good, I mean, for being a country record.”
He slowly grins and looks at you. Right in the eyes. The shock of this action makes you want to look away, but you use all you have in you to stare back at him. By the way he looks at you, it’s like he’s trying to read your mind. Or maybe he is reading your mind.
“She’s a great artist,” he says slowly. “Do you really like it, or were you just saying that?”
“Some of the songs are okay,” you shrug. He sees right through you and laughs.
“I guess it’s not for everyone,” he crosses his legs and you look away, staring at the wall in front of you. You’re to busy concentrating on the wall to notice that he’s stood up and is walking towards you. But you do notice when he takes your hand and smiles, and you smile back either sweetly or stupidly. You can’t tell. Hopefully neither can he.
“You have nice eyes,” he complements, his thumb moving slowly back and forth on the back of your hand. You blush.
“Not as nice as yours,”
Well Holly I love you too, but there’s just so much that I don’t know about you.
He moves in closer to you, but you back away slightly. A lot of questions are running through your mind and you’d rather have them answered first. He looks at you, perplexed, like he hasn’t been rejected like that before. You remind yourself that he probably hasn’t.
“I want to know why you never look at me, or notice me,” you say, trying to sound steady, trying to stop your voice from shaking, but you fail.
“Believe me, Gerard, I notice you,” he says, staring straight into your eyes again. He hasn’t answered your other question, but this is enough for now. You relax and let him do what he wants to you. He leans in again, slower this time, as if testing you out, seeing if you’ll reject him again.
But you don’t. You let him kiss you, and you let him run his hands up and down your sides and over your chest. You wrap your own arms around him, pulling him closer. He smiles and kisses you more. His eyes are closed and so are yours, and right now, that’s how you want them.
----------
Note: I love Loretta Lynn with all my heart. And I love Meg and Holly's voices, too. I wanted to say this so you didn't get mad at me for "dissing" them. :)
Archived at: inxourxdesign