(no subject)
Title: Goodnight Elland Road
Pairing: Ricky/Ryan Jarman. Long overdue!
Summary: Very short fic about Ricky and Ryan's Elland Road afterparty after Ricky has passed out in the bar.
Rating: Clean, completely clean really. Just the odd swearword.
Disclaimer: Not true.
Ricky was sat on the sofa in a house in Leeds, just an hour after the biggest gig of his life. Ricky leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. Everything looked a bit hazy; well, more than a bit. He decided he'd had one too many tonight. Maybe that was why he'd passed out in Billy's Bar and got taken home by Ryan, or maybe that would have happened anyway.
"Awake now are we? Y'alright, Ricky?" Ryan asked, walking into the room following a path which didn't even resemble a straight line. He thrust a can of Carlsberg into Ricky's right hand and Ricky physically wretched.
"No way." He said, giving it back.
"Fine." Ryan said, and opened it for himself.
Ricky watched Ryan drink the can and smiled suddenly as the day's events unfolded in his mind. He had a flurry of memories; walking out during The Young Knives and seeing the crowd of 38,000 people in his favourite football stadium, his own city; standing behind the Kaiser Chiefs curtain as it was raised and the crowd cheering louder than he'd ever heard a crowd cheer; Ryan, there for him during Modern Way, singing with him like they used to when both bands were starting out.
"Hey Ryan, we just played Elland Road."
"Yeah. That were grand, that." Ryan slurred.
"40,000 voices, Ry, shouting back at me."
"Yeah."
"40,000 people coming to see us. Me. You being there, Mark being there, Moyles being there for us. Big screens and cameras and...this is where we've been heading for years, Ry, this is it. That topped anything, like, it's huge - we're huge."
"Yeah, shut up Ricky, you're talking shyte."
Ryan's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. He looked at the text message and his eyes darkened, his smile left his face.
"Who is it?"
"It's Kate." Ryan mumbled. "She weren't very good earlier, were she?"
"It's nice what she's doing for you though. Now that people think you're straight, we won't get so many rumours." Ricky drawled. That had been the plan, that if Ryan went out with Kate Nash, the press and the fans would stop giving them grief. So far, it had done its job, but the pair resented each other for what they had to tell the media.
Ricky moaned as he tried to lean over and read the text and fell back.
"You're shitfaced mate." Ryan said.
"So are you." Ricky replied, and leaned in to give Ryan the kiss he'd been waiting to give him since that morning. The empty Carlsberg can dropped from Ryan's hand and he leaned forward into the kiss. Ryan took off his leather jacket and loosened Ricky's tie. Ricky buried his head in Ryan's neck and breathed in his heady, greasy scent.
"I've got to be at Wembley in the morning." Ricky sighed.
"So you've got until the morning."
Ricky smirked and they both knew tonight had been, and was going to be, the best night of their lives.
Pairing: Ricky/Ryan Jarman. Long overdue!
Summary: Very short fic about Ricky and Ryan's Elland Road afterparty after Ricky has passed out in the bar.
Rating: Clean, completely clean really. Just the odd swearword.
Disclaimer: Not true.
Ricky was sat on the sofa in a house in Leeds, just an hour after the biggest gig of his life. Ricky leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. Everything looked a bit hazy; well, more than a bit. He decided he'd had one too many tonight. Maybe that was why he'd passed out in Billy's Bar and got taken home by Ryan, or maybe that would have happened anyway.
"Awake now are we? Y'alright, Ricky?" Ryan asked, walking into the room following a path which didn't even resemble a straight line. He thrust a can of Carlsberg into Ricky's right hand and Ricky physically wretched.
"No way." He said, giving it back.
"Fine." Ryan said, and opened it for himself.
Ricky watched Ryan drink the can and smiled suddenly as the day's events unfolded in his mind. He had a flurry of memories; walking out during The Young Knives and seeing the crowd of 38,000 people in his favourite football stadium, his own city; standing behind the Kaiser Chiefs curtain as it was raised and the crowd cheering louder than he'd ever heard a crowd cheer; Ryan, there for him during Modern Way, singing with him like they used to when both bands were starting out.
"Hey Ryan, we just played Elland Road."
"Yeah. That were grand, that." Ryan slurred.
"40,000 voices, Ry, shouting back at me."
"Yeah."
"40,000 people coming to see us. Me. You being there, Mark being there, Moyles being there for us. Big screens and cameras and...this is where we've been heading for years, Ry, this is it. That topped anything, like, it's huge - we're huge."
"Yeah, shut up Ricky, you're talking shyte."
Ryan's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. He looked at the text message and his eyes darkened, his smile left his face.
"Who is it?"
"It's Kate." Ryan mumbled. "She weren't very good earlier, were she?"
"It's nice what she's doing for you though. Now that people think you're straight, we won't get so many rumours." Ricky drawled. That had been the plan, that if Ryan went out with Kate Nash, the press and the fans would stop giving them grief. So far, it had done its job, but the pair resented each other for what they had to tell the media.
Ricky moaned as he tried to lean over and read the text and fell back.
"You're shitfaced mate." Ryan said.
"So are you." Ricky replied, and leaned in to give Ryan the kiss he'd been waiting to give him since that morning. The empty Carlsberg can dropped from Ryan's hand and he leaned forward into the kiss. Ryan took off his leather jacket and loosened Ricky's tie. Ricky buried his head in Ryan's neck and breathed in his heady, greasy scent.
"I've got to be at Wembley in the morning." Ricky sighed.
"So you've got until the morning."
Ricky smirked and they both knew tonight had been, and was going to be, the best night of their lives.