(no subject)
Title: Completeness
Author: defy_darkness
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Rating: None
Summary: Benji's point of view towards Joel
Disclaimer: Don't Own, Don't know, Didn't Happen...the usual.
Note: Read and Review please. I like getting comments...good or bad...tell it like it is.
Thanks to jow for the encouragement...you rock.
I’m right where he left me. I didn’t cry while he was here; I was too scared to. All that keeps running through my mind is how much pain he puts me through and he doesn’t even know it. I always hope that he’d understand and take all the pain away.
I lie back down and bury my face in my pillow to quiet the sobs. I feel my whole body shake and tremble when I cry over him. All my built up tears are forced out at once. I know if he walked back in he’d console me. He means well, but it’s his kindness and big heart that hurts me the most. He wraps his arms around me and rests his head atop mine and breaks my heart a little bit every time. His hugs are most comforting in my times of need though. I hate when he gives me a hug because I know the feeling of completeness I have with his arms around me, will inevitably end and it will be followed by a never ending pain as soon as his arms release me.
I sigh out loud thinking about him. I sit up and wipe the tear trails off my face with my hand, smudging my eyeliner. I pull my shirt up to wipe my face clean, exposing my plump tummy that he likes to slap when I don’t have a shirt on.
I laugh to myself thinking about the first time that I wore eyeliner. He bugged me so much about it and told me it looked stupid. Then, just one short month later, I found him in the bathroom trying it on. He turned away in shame thinking I was going to give him shit. I didn’t though; I just showed him the easiest way to put it on. It looks so good on him. It makes his already beautiful eyes stand out even more. He thanked me sheepishly and I smiled. I left him to stare at his beauty in the mirror, but not before I did.
I take my shirt off and examine the blotchy black stains I created. Disgusted with myself, I ball it up and toss it on the bed. I rummage through my stack of t-shirts in search of one in particular. His. I’m nearly at the bottom, not finding it; I begin to panic, thinking he took it back. There it is, third from the bottom. I unfold it and stare at it momentarily. He always said it looked better on me than him, and that pissed him off because it was his favourite. I pass the soft, worn fabric between my fingers. I touch my tattooed arms knowing that my skin doesn’t deserve to feel such heaven against it. I slide it on and look in the mirror. We’ve always loved Rancid. This is my favourite shirt too, not because it’s comfortable, but because it’s his. It excites me to feel something of his against my bare skin.
I lay back down, one arm behind my head and the other resting on my stomach. I fight back more tears about him. I sit up and grab my acoustic guitar to keep me distracted. I strum the first few chords to ‘Change,’ thinking about when we recorded it. It was 3:30 in the morning and all the other guys had already been through and done their parts, so it was just the two of us in the studio. It was so good to hear his voice singing those beautiful words, almost as if, to me. I played the music just for him, not taking my eyes off of him as he sang:
“You can’t change the way you feel…
You can’t tell me this ain’t real…
Cuz this is real….
Cuz in the end it’s all I’ve got…
So I’m gonna hold on…”
Before I realize it, I’m crying again.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I hated myself even more with every tear I let fall. I put my guitar down and promised myself not to cry anymore. I grabbed my shoes and put them on to escape this room enclosing around me. It’s been a while since I’ve just been out for a walk.
I managed to hide my identity with my hood and my sleeves pulled over my inked arms. I only got a few points and stares, but I walked by too fast to confirm anything to them. I walked to my favourite store, The Rock Shop; in search of something I could buy to make myself feel better. I managed to find a few shirts. (I couldn’t resist buying a shirt with Matt on it; he’s going to die when he sees me wear it.) I found an awesome shirt for Billy. Its gothy-punky, it’s going to look good on him.
“$172.85” he says as he grabs a bag.
I hand over my credit card. He looks at it and recognizes the name on it right away and looks up at me with a smile.
“Hey. My sister loves you to death. Do you mind signing a shirt for her? I’ll give you a free one; just let me know which one you want.” He says as he steps out of the way so I can see the wall of shirts behind him.
“Ah. I guess I’ll take that Sex Pistols one, I don’t have that one yet.”
“Right on.” He says grabbing my size.
‘To Natalee: Thank-you for your support. We appreciate it more than you know. Keep rocking out. Love Benji Madden.”
I signed my receipt, thanked him for the free shirt and I was out the door. I got home and unloaded all my new found treasures. I noticed a note on the kitchen counter. It’s from Joel.
“Hey…Where’d you go? I said I’d be right back. I’m at home; call me when you get in. Love you. -Joel”
My heart breaks to read his name. I pick up the phone and wonder if I should call him. I beat myself up inside for questioning myself, of course I should. Stupid. The rings seem to last forever. My words get caught in my throat when I hear that voice. I manage to stutter a “Hey.”
“Oh…hey. Where’d you go man?” he asks.
“Went to the Rock Shop. Got a couple shirts and shit.” I answer back.
“Good, can I have mine back then?” he kids.
I never want to take it off. It feels right against my body.
“No.” I answer flatly.
“Fine. I thought you were coming over.” He pauses to let me answer.
I listen to him breathing and I’m trying to remember how to speak.
“Oh. Yeah. I’ll be over in a few.” My heart races.
“Ok. See you then. Drive safe you maniac.” He laughs and hangs up.
My stereo’s cranking out The Clash and I tap my fingers along with the beat on the steering wheel. I find myself holding my breath when I pull into the driveway. I cut the engine and stare at the sight of life stirring inside. He peaks around the curtain and signals me to go to the door. He opens it before I open the car door and waves me in.
I swallow the lump in my throat and exhale violently to calm myself.
“Hey. Didn’t take long lead foot!”
He hates my driving.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I say as I step onto the porch. He grabs me as I try to walk by and gives me a hug.
The completeness is back. I fight to let go of him before I won’t be able to.
We do the usual stuff. Listen to music, play foosball, kick his ass at video games, watch TV. It was 2:30 in the morning and we decided to watch a movie.
“What’ll it be?” he asks staring at the stack of DVDs.
“Do you have to ask?” I answer.
“Boon?”
I nod a yes.
Halfway through it Joel mumbles something about Norman Reedus being handsome. I glance at him and say he’s better looking.
“Fuck. You only say that because you look just like me.” He laughs.
I don’t. He’s the most beautiful thing that ever existed, inside and out. I’m nothing compared to him. He’s the definition of perfection. I don’t look like him. I just smile at him and don’t say a word.
He falls asleep on the couch. I shut the movie off and stand him up. He’s half awake and manages to help me drag him to his room. It’s just like when we were young; I would always put him to bed. It was comforting to hear him breathing in the bed next to me.
I pull his shirt off and he undoes his belt and slides his pants off. I pull his covers open and signal for him to get in. He does. He tells me not to drive home, it’s too later. Fine with me, I feel exhaustion setting in. I flop down on the other side of his bed. I smell him on the sheets. Surprisingly, he smells like me.
I pull my shirt; Joel’s shirt; off and toss it on the floor. Realizing what I had just done, I lean over to pick it up and place it neatly on the nightstand.
“Night Benj.” Joel whispers to me tiredly, eyes shut tight.
“Night Joel. I love you.” I whisper back.
“I love you too.” He says before slipping into a deep sleep. I don’t want to miss a split second of him and I fight the exhaustion to keep my eyes open. I memorized everything about him years ago, but every time I stare at him, I’m still amazed.
I know he doesn’t love me like I love him, but just the fact that he loves me in some way, puts my heart at ease.
I stare at him, loosing track of all time and existence. I love him, not like a brother should, and I hate myself for that. I hate loving someone I’m not supposed to. As if reading my thoughts, he quietly woke and whispered a quote he memorized earlier that day, but forgot to tell me until that moment:
“…Be at peace with God. Whatever you conceive Him or Her to be. And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it’s still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.” He drifted back to sleep.
“Strive to be happy” rang in my ear. Every second that passed by when I lay there staring at him, I felt less guilt for loving him the way I do. Loving him is my best reason for waking up everyday. I lay there long enough to feel all the guilt melt away, and I was left with nothing but inner peace and love.
Joel made me realize at 4:00 am on a Sunday morning, that loving someone is the greatest feeling that we are capable of. It didn’t matter to me anymore if he loved me the same way or not. I was finally happy to love him. I know this happiness will last forever. It took so long for me to see that I can’t stop loving him and it was a waste of time trying to. I cried thinking about all the happiness I missed out on while I tried to deprive my feelings for him. I will forever hate a big part of myself for denying my heart the right to love. I suddenly felt alive again, like I had been asleep for many years and am just now waking.
I’m finally convinced. No matter who says my love for him is wrong, my heart now knows that it just feels right.
“And just when I think that I could die….you come and bring me back to life…”
I'm finally complete.
Author: defy_darkness
Pairing: Benji/Joel
Rating: None
Summary: Benji's point of view towards Joel
Disclaimer: Don't Own, Don't know, Didn't Happen...the usual.
Note: Read and Review please. I like getting comments...good or bad...tell it like it is.
Thanks to jow for the encouragement...you rock.
I’m right where he left me. I didn’t cry while he was here; I was too scared to. All that keeps running through my mind is how much pain he puts me through and he doesn’t even know it. I always hope that he’d understand and take all the pain away.
I lie back down and bury my face in my pillow to quiet the sobs. I feel my whole body shake and tremble when I cry over him. All my built up tears are forced out at once. I know if he walked back in he’d console me. He means well, but it’s his kindness and big heart that hurts me the most. He wraps his arms around me and rests his head atop mine and breaks my heart a little bit every time. His hugs are most comforting in my times of need though. I hate when he gives me a hug because I know the feeling of completeness I have with his arms around me, will inevitably end and it will be followed by a never ending pain as soon as his arms release me.
I sigh out loud thinking about him. I sit up and wipe the tear trails off my face with my hand, smudging my eyeliner. I pull my shirt up to wipe my face clean, exposing my plump tummy that he likes to slap when I don’t have a shirt on.
I laugh to myself thinking about the first time that I wore eyeliner. He bugged me so much about it and told me it looked stupid. Then, just one short month later, I found him in the bathroom trying it on. He turned away in shame thinking I was going to give him shit. I didn’t though; I just showed him the easiest way to put it on. It looks so good on him. It makes his already beautiful eyes stand out even more. He thanked me sheepishly and I smiled. I left him to stare at his beauty in the mirror, but not before I did.
I take my shirt off and examine the blotchy black stains I created. Disgusted with myself, I ball it up and toss it on the bed. I rummage through my stack of t-shirts in search of one in particular. His. I’m nearly at the bottom, not finding it; I begin to panic, thinking he took it back. There it is, third from the bottom. I unfold it and stare at it momentarily. He always said it looked better on me than him, and that pissed him off because it was his favourite. I pass the soft, worn fabric between my fingers. I touch my tattooed arms knowing that my skin doesn’t deserve to feel such heaven against it. I slide it on and look in the mirror. We’ve always loved Rancid. This is my favourite shirt too, not because it’s comfortable, but because it’s his. It excites me to feel something of his against my bare skin.
I lay back down, one arm behind my head and the other resting on my stomach. I fight back more tears about him. I sit up and grab my acoustic guitar to keep me distracted. I strum the first few chords to ‘Change,’ thinking about when we recorded it. It was 3:30 in the morning and all the other guys had already been through and done their parts, so it was just the two of us in the studio. It was so good to hear his voice singing those beautiful words, almost as if, to me. I played the music just for him, not taking my eyes off of him as he sang:
“You can’t change the way you feel…
You can’t tell me this ain’t real…
Cuz this is real….
Cuz in the end it’s all I’ve got…
So I’m gonna hold on…”
Before I realize it, I’m crying again.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I hated myself even more with every tear I let fall. I put my guitar down and promised myself not to cry anymore. I grabbed my shoes and put them on to escape this room enclosing around me. It’s been a while since I’ve just been out for a walk.
I managed to hide my identity with my hood and my sleeves pulled over my inked arms. I only got a few points and stares, but I walked by too fast to confirm anything to them. I walked to my favourite store, The Rock Shop; in search of something I could buy to make myself feel better. I managed to find a few shirts. (I couldn’t resist buying a shirt with Matt on it; he’s going to die when he sees me wear it.) I found an awesome shirt for Billy. Its gothy-punky, it’s going to look good on him.
“$172.85” he says as he grabs a bag.
I hand over my credit card. He looks at it and recognizes the name on it right away and looks up at me with a smile.
“Hey. My sister loves you to death. Do you mind signing a shirt for her? I’ll give you a free one; just let me know which one you want.” He says as he steps out of the way so I can see the wall of shirts behind him.
“Ah. I guess I’ll take that Sex Pistols one, I don’t have that one yet.”
“Right on.” He says grabbing my size.
‘To Natalee: Thank-you for your support. We appreciate it more than you know. Keep rocking out. Love Benji Madden.”
I signed my receipt, thanked him for the free shirt and I was out the door. I got home and unloaded all my new found treasures. I noticed a note on the kitchen counter. It’s from Joel.
“Hey…Where’d you go? I said I’d be right back. I’m at home; call me when you get in. Love you. -Joel”
My heart breaks to read his name. I pick up the phone and wonder if I should call him. I beat myself up inside for questioning myself, of course I should. Stupid. The rings seem to last forever. My words get caught in my throat when I hear that voice. I manage to stutter a “Hey.”
“Oh…hey. Where’d you go man?” he asks.
“Went to the Rock Shop. Got a couple shirts and shit.” I answer back.
“Good, can I have mine back then?” he kids.
I never want to take it off. It feels right against my body.
“No.” I answer flatly.
“Fine. I thought you were coming over.” He pauses to let me answer.
I listen to him breathing and I’m trying to remember how to speak.
“Oh. Yeah. I’ll be over in a few.” My heart races.
“Ok. See you then. Drive safe you maniac.” He laughs and hangs up.
My stereo’s cranking out The Clash and I tap my fingers along with the beat on the steering wheel. I find myself holding my breath when I pull into the driveway. I cut the engine and stare at the sight of life stirring inside. He peaks around the curtain and signals me to go to the door. He opens it before I open the car door and waves me in.
I swallow the lump in my throat and exhale violently to calm myself.
“Hey. Didn’t take long lead foot!”
He hates my driving.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” I say as I step onto the porch. He grabs me as I try to walk by and gives me a hug.
The completeness is back. I fight to let go of him before I won’t be able to.
We do the usual stuff. Listen to music, play foosball, kick his ass at video games, watch TV. It was 2:30 in the morning and we decided to watch a movie.
“What’ll it be?” he asks staring at the stack of DVDs.
“Do you have to ask?” I answer.
“Boon?”
I nod a yes.
Halfway through it Joel mumbles something about Norman Reedus being handsome. I glance at him and say he’s better looking.
“Fuck. You only say that because you look just like me.” He laughs.
I don’t. He’s the most beautiful thing that ever existed, inside and out. I’m nothing compared to him. He’s the definition of perfection. I don’t look like him. I just smile at him and don’t say a word.
He falls asleep on the couch. I shut the movie off and stand him up. He’s half awake and manages to help me drag him to his room. It’s just like when we were young; I would always put him to bed. It was comforting to hear him breathing in the bed next to me.
I pull his shirt off and he undoes his belt and slides his pants off. I pull his covers open and signal for him to get in. He does. He tells me not to drive home, it’s too later. Fine with me, I feel exhaustion setting in. I flop down on the other side of his bed. I smell him on the sheets. Surprisingly, he smells like me.
I pull my shirt; Joel’s shirt; off and toss it on the floor. Realizing what I had just done, I lean over to pick it up and place it neatly on the nightstand.
“Night Benj.” Joel whispers to me tiredly, eyes shut tight.
“Night Joel. I love you.” I whisper back.
“I love you too.” He says before slipping into a deep sleep. I don’t want to miss a split second of him and I fight the exhaustion to keep my eyes open. I memorized everything about him years ago, but every time I stare at him, I’m still amazed.
I know he doesn’t love me like I love him, but just the fact that he loves me in some way, puts my heart at ease.
I stare at him, loosing track of all time and existence. I love him, not like a brother should, and I hate myself for that. I hate loving someone I’m not supposed to. As if reading my thoughts, he quietly woke and whispered a quote he memorized earlier that day, but forgot to tell me until that moment:
“…Be at peace with God. Whatever you conceive Him or Her to be. And whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it’s still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.” He drifted back to sleep.
“Strive to be happy” rang in my ear. Every second that passed by when I lay there staring at him, I felt less guilt for loving him the way I do. Loving him is my best reason for waking up everyday. I lay there long enough to feel all the guilt melt away, and I was left with nothing but inner peace and love.
Joel made me realize at 4:00 am on a Sunday morning, that loving someone is the greatest feeling that we are capable of. It didn’t matter to me anymore if he loved me the same way or not. I was finally happy to love him. I know this happiness will last forever. It took so long for me to see that I can’t stop loving him and it was a waste of time trying to. I cried thinking about all the happiness I missed out on while I tried to deprive my feelings for him. I will forever hate a big part of myself for denying my heart the right to love. I suddenly felt alive again, like I had been asleep for many years and am just now waking.
I’m finally convinced. No matter who says my love for him is wrong, my heart now knows that it just feels right.
“And just when I think that I could die….you come and bring me back to life…”
I'm finally complete.