(no subject)
the academy is; rise of the fall tour series, 2003
great romances of the 20th century (prelude)
adam, mike / william, 470 words (sort of r)
-- you know i'm not one for complaining, but i love the way you'd roll excuses off the tip of your tongue as i slowly fall apart (i'm in your room, are you turned on?)
Adam bounces up the staors two at a time, his diskman in one hand, a freshly made pepperoni pizza from Dominos resting elegantly atop his other hand. Bill and Mike had been in the apartment the whole weekend trying to finish lyrics and-- from the sound of it-- failing miserably. Neither one of them could finish the songs they were so very excited about and Adrian was starting to get on Adam's case about it, since he couldn't reach either one of their talented lyricists.
Sisky sets the pizza down on the banister and lifts the dingy welcome mat, pulling out a set of keys. It probably isn't a good idea for them to leave the spare key under the mat, he often thinks, especially when their apartment is already the standard for crappy apartments and is likely to be broken into any day now.
He opens the door with ease, grabs the pizza and steps inside.
They certainly haven't been doing much since they declared they would get the album written in two days and decided not to leave the apartment until they did. They don't seem to be sleeping much, from the looks of it; when Bill got a good night's rest he is usually in the right state of mind to clean. The TV is still on and there are piles of dishes in the sink. Sisky just pushes all the crap on the counter into the already full sink and sets the pizza box down, grabbing a slice and heading for the bedroom, where they were probably catching some extra shut eye before work.
"And I don't eeee-van care to shake these zipper bluuues," he sings under his breath, the Pumpkins blasting in his ears. If he doesn't listen to music that could deafen him, it just isn't worth listening to. "And we don't know, just where our bones will reeest, to dust, I guess--"
Adam pushes pause on the song just as he swings the door open a tiny bit.
"Shh," Mike says, above William, pulling the covers around them and kissing Bill intimately, a kiss which is returned with great enthusiasm.
"Shut up, shut up, don't stop." William closes his eyes but tightens his grip on Mike's glistening back, his fingers finding their way to damp hair. He is barely able to string two words together through pleasurable moans and half hearted giggles, though making a great attempt. "Don't. Ever. Stop," he says, "God-- don't, hmm, Mike, I think you know me-- fuck, too well."
Mike smiles mischievously and kisses Bill again, then trails soft kisses along his jaw line to his neck and his chest.
Sisky says, "Holy fuck, boys, is there something you want to tell me?"
--
thought that might clear a few things up.