(no subject)
Author: Lolita_stardust
Pairings: that would be telling. combinations of Lizi, Jack, James, will, Groves, Gillette, Mullroy
Rating: 15
Title:Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed...
Author's Notes: Meletor-et_al, tiggothy, and shrieking_ell are responsible for inspiring warping my mind. Blame them. Set in my Theatreverse modern AU.
James’s sister was going to kill them.
It was his 16th, a party that would live forever in the pages of the class of 2004’s yearbook (“Craziest memory? The carnage of Norrington’s 16th birthday”).
The drink was flowing freely and Aiden’s teeth itched with sugar, his tongue was furred with the blackcurrant alcopop that Lizi has pressed into his hand with a lascivious wink.
His arm hurt, he though blearily. Further inspection revealed it to be pinned beneath him as he lay on the floor, his head pillowed by back issues of Glamour. Theo clattered around somewhere out of earshot behind his head giggling and staggering.
The wardrobe door banged and swung and Aiden could feel the breeze from the clothes flung towards him on the floor.
Whumph “no, not right. No, no Definitely NO”
A thud of something big and nobbly being persuaded out from the bottom of the wardrobe.
“A-Ha! Aiden I’ve found just the thing”
Aiden let his head thunk back on the floor, an air of defeat about him
“round and round and roun’an’roun she goesssss”
the circular nodding of Jack’s head as he followed the bottle’s progress was starting to make James feel a little seasick. He watched the ice cubes in his JD and coke melt and tried very very hard to Remember. Really. Important. Things. Questions that had answers like: James, your birthday party, 16, Jack - it’s always Jack’s fault, brown - his eyes are melting brown and his lips….
James shook his head, resolving to find some water and sit outside until the thoughts of someone’s lips and eyes stopped short circuiting his brain, thoughts of pretty red lips, slightly parted and…
He got up with a start, just as the bottle slowed and finally landed pointing right at him.
“round and round and roun’an’roun she goesssss”
Jack was a man of forward planning. He had planned thi at all, no mate “didn’t mean to - too much to drink you know how things are”. Just a spur of the moment, drunken sloppy kiss for the birthday boy. He let his tongue relax against chapped lips to lisp ‘goes’, as he watched through lowered lashes James try to hold desperately on to sobriety and fail. Eyes widened as James tried to lurch to his feet and stop halfway up swaying ridiculously and stare confusedly at the bottle.
Jack cocked his head drunkenly to one side and leered as he stepped up to catch him.
Because you see the, like, thing is, is that it isn’t all hair and nails and Johnny Depp’s love life. We work hard; we have to, our fathers would kill us if we failed our Oxbridge interviews. We have all this pressure on us to succeed and be cool and sometimes it just gets to me you know? Sorry, I’m babbling, I’m a little drunk. I always run my mouth off when I’ve been drinking. It’s nice to finally meet you, you know? Because you see some people round for years an’ years an’ years and you never learnt their names and then you find out that even though they don’t come to the latest club opening or fashion show they’re still funny and stuff. Sorry, Sorry god I’m awful aren’t I. I haven’t even introduced myself, I’m Lizi. And you’re Mullroy? I never got that whole calling each other by the surname thing that boys have.
You know, you’d be sort of cute if you wore more blue……
Jack’s mouth tasted like smoke and absinthe. It was wet. And the corners curled up in a half smile. James had wanted to say no, he could already hear the rumours flying, hear mobile phones being whipped out and frantic texts being tapped out across the city “ omigod the head boy is, like, totally snogging that weird new boy”. But some how, the words hadn’t come, he’d just fallen headlong into that smirk and that was it really.
He opened his eyes and over his shoulder saw Will walk into the room, stop, look, see, swallow nervously and walk back out, his expression unreadable.
He started to worry, then his brain gave up the fight totally as Jack’s fingers twisted in his hair.
Mullroy didn’t know how he’d ended up coming to the party. James had invited him, because James was nice like that. But they’d both known even as he said it that Oliver knew no one else there, had probably never had a drink in his life and would be horribly, mortifyingly out of place. So how the hell had he, Oliver Mullroy, captain of the frigging chess club ended up pulling the one non school shirt not chosen by his mother over his pudgy frame and venturing out to what was clearly already the hottest party of the year. How the hell had he ended up with Lizi Swann, the unanimously voted “most fuckable sixth former”, sitting half on his lap slurring drunkenly about all the pressure she was under and the colour coordination of his shirt and his eyes. If this had been an American teen movie, Oliver would have been the bait in an elaborate social trap. Heck, they went to an English private school, it probably was.
As Lizi closed her eyes and tilted her glossed, parted lips towards him he fled, terrified she’d feel the sudden bulge in his 501s.
Jack. James. Jack and James. Will rushed upstairs as casually and un -rushedly as he could after half a bottle of vodka trying to wipe the image from the backs of his retinas. The bathroom was mercifully empty and he drizzled cold water over his face, the better to camouflage the tears that threatened to spill. Jesus Christ he was a maudlin sort of drunk tonight. He’d hoped that he could finally talk to James about, well about his hopeless sweaty palmed crush on him, with a little dutch (actually the label made it Swedish) courage. Then he’d walked in and seen Jack doing precisely what he’d wanted to do for months in broad bloody daylight, ok lamplight.
He sighed and curled down beside the sink, head in hands.
“Will? Will are you in there? Are you ok mate, you looked kind of weird”. A pause, then the lock rasped back and James saw Will pull open the door slightly and walk back to sit on the floor. He followed him in and sat as near as he dared to those lips, which right now were curled back in a half grimace. Fuck, this would take some explaining. He must be disgusted. James searched desperately for the right words to convey the delicate message that yes and no and yes but not him but you - yes, yes, god yes. He floundered and finally blurted out “I’m not gay though” far too loud. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he heard 5 drunken “yeah right’s” through the bathroom door from the rabble out on the landing. “Fuck, listen Will, can we talk? Somewhere more (not private, not private, do not make it sound like a come on!!!) private? (shit).
As he looked into Will’s eyes and saw the challenge and the promise in his “sure” James knew he was deeply fucked.
Theo this is not good, Not! Good! Get off me this instant! Have you seen Norrington’s sister? She’ll crush us both like the puny men folk we are if she finds us like this! These are her fucking clothes! He half shout-whispered the last word in terrified awe of the situation he was stuck, more like pinioned in. “If anyone finds us I shall kill you. As soon as ever I’ve killed myself you know” he finished sniffily.
“Whatever, sweety” drawled Theo and Andrew blinked as the flash of a Polaroid camera exploded in his face.
“What the fuck is this room?” “some kind of wardrobe?” who the hell has a wardrobe joined on to their bathroom?” What was the flash?” “ I dunno. Listen Will, are you freaked out that I kissed Jack? Because I don’t usually. Kiss Jack ,I mean. We’re both pissed and it was spin the bottle and… I dunno. I mean I’m not gay if that’s what you think. Not that I’m some kind of homophobe or anything, I just don’t…kiss…y’know, Jack. And stuff.” “ Just Jack? I mean if you’re not gay and you’re not “some kind of homophobe or anything” but you don’t kiss Jack then what exactly do you do? Lizi?” “Don’t talk about her like that, she’s my friend, and no, I’m not “doing” her either. There’s someone else…but he-they, They, aren’t interested.” “He?” “They” “Oh. Not interested? How do you know? Have you asked?” “ no, not exactly. But they wouldn’t be. They probably have a girlfriend. I mean boyfriend.” A nervous laugh “ Sorry I’m drunk, I keep mixing my words up y’know? But they’re almost certainly not interested.” “really? What this bo-person like? He must be some kind of fool to not like someone as…well, someone as….someonelikeyou”
James leant forward.
Will leant forward.
James breathed “interested…”
.......
As they leant back, interlocked, damp searching mouths and trembling legs, the far door of the wardrobe gave way and they tumbled into the bedroom.
There he lay, prone, pliable and pigtailed. Aiden Gillette. MAC cherry Ice lip gloss slicking his pouting lips, Urban Decay Piccadilly eye shadow smudged across his narrowed eyes, pleated hockey skirt and airtex shirt monogrammed SN revealing alabaster legs and arms dusted with freckles. Drunk, furious, and helpless.
Theo took another swig of Vodka, another Polaroid and was just leaning in to lick the frown off his face when the Wardrobe door he hadn’t fastened properly burst open and spilled James and Will into a surpsied tangle onto the floor.
Monday Morning
“Nice party, Norri. How’s the house?”
“ok considering Theo, Sally claims someone used all the film in her Polaroid but fairly damage free considering. How’s the hangover?”
“Fucking dreadful mate, I was so wasted….”
“Me too, I think everyone was.”
“We must have got up to some pretty random shit then, I can’t remember a thing.”
“Oh, me either. Not. A. Thing”
“Especially me either. I’m still pisssed”
“Morning Jack.”
“’Ow’s Liz?”
“Still in bed. She told her mother she had “women’s troubles” and ditched.”
“Lizi? She’s ill?”
“Nah, Mullroy, she’s a skiving wench. She claimed to be mortifyingly
hung-over, clearly she’s the only one who remembers Saturday night at all”
“You’re awfully quiet Will - bit green too. Fancy ditching PE for a little hair of the dog?”
Will shook his throbbing head and smiled enigmatically.
Pairings: that would be telling. combinations of Lizi, Jack, James, will, Groves, Gillette, Mullroy
Rating: 15
Title:Sweet Sixteen and never been kissed...
Author's Notes: Meletor-et_al, tiggothy, and shrieking_ell are responsible for inspiring warping my mind. Blame them. Set in my Theatreverse modern AU.
James’s sister was going to kill them.
It was his 16th, a party that would live forever in the pages of the class of 2004’s yearbook (“Craziest memory? The carnage of Norrington’s 16th birthday”).
The drink was flowing freely and Aiden’s teeth itched with sugar, his tongue was furred with the blackcurrant alcopop that Lizi has pressed into his hand with a lascivious wink.
His arm hurt, he though blearily. Further inspection revealed it to be pinned beneath him as he lay on the floor, his head pillowed by back issues of Glamour. Theo clattered around somewhere out of earshot behind his head giggling and staggering.
The wardrobe door banged and swung and Aiden could feel the breeze from the clothes flung towards him on the floor.
Whumph “no, not right. No, no Definitely NO”
A thud of something big and nobbly being persuaded out from the bottom of the wardrobe.
“A-Ha! Aiden I’ve found just the thing”
Aiden let his head thunk back on the floor, an air of defeat about him
“round and round and roun’an’roun she goesssss”
the circular nodding of Jack’s head as he followed the bottle’s progress was starting to make James feel a little seasick. He watched the ice cubes in his JD and coke melt and tried very very hard to Remember. Really. Important. Things. Questions that had answers like: James, your birthday party, 16, Jack - it’s always Jack’s fault, brown - his eyes are melting brown and his lips….
James shook his head, resolving to find some water and sit outside until the thoughts of someone’s lips and eyes stopped short circuiting his brain, thoughts of pretty red lips, slightly parted and…
He got up with a start, just as the bottle slowed and finally landed pointing right at him.
“round and round and roun’an’roun she goesssss”
Jack was a man of forward planning. He had planned thi at all, no mate “didn’t mean to - too much to drink you know how things are”. Just a spur of the moment, drunken sloppy kiss for the birthday boy. He let his tongue relax against chapped lips to lisp ‘goes’, as he watched through lowered lashes James try to hold desperately on to sobriety and fail. Eyes widened as James tried to lurch to his feet and stop halfway up swaying ridiculously and stare confusedly at the bottle.
Jack cocked his head drunkenly to one side and leered as he stepped up to catch him.
Because you see the, like, thing is, is that it isn’t all hair and nails and Johnny Depp’s love life. We work hard; we have to, our fathers would kill us if we failed our Oxbridge interviews. We have all this pressure on us to succeed and be cool and sometimes it just gets to me you know? Sorry, I’m babbling, I’m a little drunk. I always run my mouth off when I’ve been drinking. It’s nice to finally meet you, you know? Because you see some people round for years an’ years an’ years and you never learnt their names and then you find out that even though they don’t come to the latest club opening or fashion show they’re still funny and stuff. Sorry, Sorry god I’m awful aren’t I. I haven’t even introduced myself, I’m Lizi. And you’re Mullroy? I never got that whole calling each other by the surname thing that boys have.
You know, you’d be sort of cute if you wore more blue……
Jack’s mouth tasted like smoke and absinthe. It was wet. And the corners curled up in a half smile. James had wanted to say no, he could already hear the rumours flying, hear mobile phones being whipped out and frantic texts being tapped out across the city “ omigod the head boy is, like, totally snogging that weird new boy”. But some how, the words hadn’t come, he’d just fallen headlong into that smirk and that was it really.
He opened his eyes and over his shoulder saw Will walk into the room, stop, look, see, swallow nervously and walk back out, his expression unreadable.
He started to worry, then his brain gave up the fight totally as Jack’s fingers twisted in his hair.
Mullroy didn’t know how he’d ended up coming to the party. James had invited him, because James was nice like that. But they’d both known even as he said it that Oliver knew no one else there, had probably never had a drink in his life and would be horribly, mortifyingly out of place. So how the hell had he, Oliver Mullroy, captain of the frigging chess club ended up pulling the one non school shirt not chosen by his mother over his pudgy frame and venturing out to what was clearly already the hottest party of the year. How the hell had he ended up with Lizi Swann, the unanimously voted “most fuckable sixth former”, sitting half on his lap slurring drunkenly about all the pressure she was under and the colour coordination of his shirt and his eyes. If this had been an American teen movie, Oliver would have been the bait in an elaborate social trap. Heck, they went to an English private school, it probably was.
As Lizi closed her eyes and tilted her glossed, parted lips towards him he fled, terrified she’d feel the sudden bulge in his 501s.
Jack. James. Jack and James. Will rushed upstairs as casually and un -rushedly as he could after half a bottle of vodka trying to wipe the image from the backs of his retinas. The bathroom was mercifully empty and he drizzled cold water over his face, the better to camouflage the tears that threatened to spill. Jesus Christ he was a maudlin sort of drunk tonight. He’d hoped that he could finally talk to James about, well about his hopeless sweaty palmed crush on him, with a little dutch (actually the label made it Swedish) courage. Then he’d walked in and seen Jack doing precisely what he’d wanted to do for months in broad bloody daylight, ok lamplight.
He sighed and curled down beside the sink, head in hands.
“Will? Will are you in there? Are you ok mate, you looked kind of weird”. A pause, then the lock rasped back and James saw Will pull open the door slightly and walk back to sit on the floor. He followed him in and sat as near as he dared to those lips, which right now were curled back in a half grimace. Fuck, this would take some explaining. He must be disgusted. James searched desperately for the right words to convey the delicate message that yes and no and yes but not him but you - yes, yes, god yes. He floundered and finally blurted out “I’m not gay though” far too loud. He clapped a hand over his mouth as he heard 5 drunken “yeah right’s” through the bathroom door from the rabble out on the landing. “Fuck, listen Will, can we talk? Somewhere more (not private, not private, do not make it sound like a come on!!!) private? (shit).
As he looked into Will’s eyes and saw the challenge and the promise in his “sure” James knew he was deeply fucked.
Theo this is not good, Not! Good! Get off me this instant! Have you seen Norrington’s sister? She’ll crush us both like the puny men folk we are if she finds us like this! These are her fucking clothes! He half shout-whispered the last word in terrified awe of the situation he was stuck, more like pinioned in. “If anyone finds us I shall kill you. As soon as ever I’ve killed myself you know” he finished sniffily.
“Whatever, sweety” drawled Theo and Andrew blinked as the flash of a Polaroid camera exploded in his face.
“What the fuck is this room?” “some kind of wardrobe?” who the hell has a wardrobe joined on to their bathroom?” What was the flash?” “ I dunno. Listen Will, are you freaked out that I kissed Jack? Because I don’t usually. Kiss Jack ,I mean. We’re both pissed and it was spin the bottle and… I dunno. I mean I’m not gay if that’s what you think. Not that I’m some kind of homophobe or anything, I just don’t…kiss…y’know, Jack. And stuff.” “ Just Jack? I mean if you’re not gay and you’re not “some kind of homophobe or anything” but you don’t kiss Jack then what exactly do you do? Lizi?” “Don’t talk about her like that, she’s my friend, and no, I’m not “doing” her either. There’s someone else…but he-they, They, aren’t interested.” “He?” “They” “Oh. Not interested? How do you know? Have you asked?” “ no, not exactly. But they wouldn’t be. They probably have a girlfriend. I mean boyfriend.” A nervous laugh “ Sorry I’m drunk, I keep mixing my words up y’know? But they’re almost certainly not interested.” “really? What this bo-person like? He must be some kind of fool to not like someone as…well, someone as….someonelikeyou”
James leant forward.
Will leant forward.
James breathed “interested…”
.......
As they leant back, interlocked, damp searching mouths and trembling legs, the far door of the wardrobe gave way and they tumbled into the bedroom.
There he lay, prone, pliable and pigtailed. Aiden Gillette. MAC cherry Ice lip gloss slicking his pouting lips, Urban Decay Piccadilly eye shadow smudged across his narrowed eyes, pleated hockey skirt and airtex shirt monogrammed SN revealing alabaster legs and arms dusted with freckles. Drunk, furious, and helpless.
Theo took another swig of Vodka, another Polaroid and was just leaning in to lick the frown off his face when the Wardrobe door he hadn’t fastened properly burst open and spilled James and Will into a surpsied tangle onto the floor.
Monday Morning
“Nice party, Norri. How’s the house?”
“ok considering Theo, Sally claims someone used all the film in her Polaroid but fairly damage free considering. How’s the hangover?”
“Fucking dreadful mate, I was so wasted….”
“Me too, I think everyone was.”
“We must have got up to some pretty random shit then, I can’t remember a thing.”
“Oh, me either. Not. A. Thing”
“Especially me either. I’m still pisssed”
“Morning Jack.”
“’Ow’s Liz?”
“Still in bed. She told her mother she had “women’s troubles” and ditched.”
“Lizi? She’s ill?”
“Nah, Mullroy, she’s a skiving wench. She claimed to be mortifyingly
hung-over, clearly she’s the only one who remembers Saturday night at all”
“You’re awfully quiet Will - bit green too. Fancy ditching PE for a little hair of the dog?”
Will shook his throbbing head and smiled enigmatically.