because OH MY GOD JAYME YOU NEVER WRITE ANYTHING HAPPY
Fandom: Operation Ivy
Pairing: Dave/Matt, OBVIOUSLY (sarcasm, anyone?)
Challenge: Calculator, by Sommer
Jesse wasn't an idiot, but even a genius like himself would need a calculator to add up all the ways that Lint had to make him smile. When they were on stage, all Lint had to do was take one of his flying leaps and Jesse's face would light up in a near manic-grin. When they were practicing, or writing songs, Lint would get so excited about some new idea that he had that he wouldn't be able to get all his words out before they started stumbling over each other, and that made Jesse laugh. Not a mocking 'you inarticulate bastard' laugh, but a laugh of genuine joy that made Lint himself laugh.
Then there were the nights when they were out, full of adrenaline and caffiene and Lint would randomly throw himself into the hedge of some wealthy neighbor's yard, dragging Jesse in with him by the waist, and their laughter would mix in the darkness around them, harmonizing and Jesse doubted at those times that, even if the neighbor in question were to come outside, that they wouldn't have been able to do more than smile as well. When they were at home, they'd lay on the floor, passing a joint back and forth and trying to name as many punk bands as they could think of, and Jesse would inevitably be thrown into a fit of giggles when Lint came up with some bizarre name of a punk band that never existed. He always won by default.
But when they were in bed, both with sheets sticking to their skin and panting for breath - those were the smiles Jesse liked the most. They weren't even fully formed, because he couldn't concentrate on anything but the overwhelming feeling of love threatening to break open his ribcage, but they were made of nothing but pure happiness. And he didn't even have to turn his head to know that Lint was sharing a twin expression.
Pairing: Dave/Matt, OBVIOUSLY (sarcasm, anyone?)
Challenge: Calculator, by Sommer
Jesse wasn't an idiot, but even a genius like himself would need a calculator to add up all the ways that Lint had to make him smile. When they were on stage, all Lint had to do was take one of his flying leaps and Jesse's face would light up in a near manic-grin. When they were practicing, or writing songs, Lint would get so excited about some new idea that he had that he wouldn't be able to get all his words out before they started stumbling over each other, and that made Jesse laugh. Not a mocking 'you inarticulate bastard' laugh, but a laugh of genuine joy that made Lint himself laugh.
Then there were the nights when they were out, full of adrenaline and caffiene and Lint would randomly throw himself into the hedge of some wealthy neighbor's yard, dragging Jesse in with him by the waist, and their laughter would mix in the darkness around them, harmonizing and Jesse doubted at those times that, even if the neighbor in question were to come outside, that they wouldn't have been able to do more than smile as well. When they were at home, they'd lay on the floor, passing a joint back and forth and trying to name as many punk bands as they could think of, and Jesse would inevitably be thrown into a fit of giggles when Lint came up with some bizarre name of a punk band that never existed. He always won by default.
But when they were in bed, both with sheets sticking to their skin and panting for breath - those were the smiles Jesse liked the most. They weren't even fully formed, because he couldn't concentrate on anything but the overwhelming feeling of love threatening to break open his ribcage, but they were made of nothing but pure happiness. And he didn't even have to turn his head to know that Lint was sharing a twin expression.