Fitting In
Title: Fitting In
'Verse: The Effect
Disclaimer: These characters belong to me. Yay.
Rating: slash - soft
Pairing: Chris/Matt
Feedback: I don't need any. Writing this mostly for me.
Author’s Notes: This follows Entrance. It's basically just me writing out parts of Chris's history. These little things are about his first boyfriend.
He threw out one outfit after another, tossing them onto his bed in a flurry of jean, leather, and cotton. Miranda had come in to watch him at one point, tutting every now and then so that he threw her out. Now it was just Chris and a closet full of worthless clothes.
Why didn’t I ask him what kind of band it was? he thought miserably, holding leather pants in one hand, beat-up jeans in the other. It made all the difference.
He’d have to find a go-between. Tight jeans, and his favorite black tank top that read “CTRL+ALT+DELETE.” Maybe it wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world, but at least he wouldn’t mix up the genre.
He realized he didn’t know much about Matt. Except that he was a good kisser. A great kisser. And cute. Really cute.
Rolling his eyes at his reflection, he clasped his cross around his neck, and then thought better of it, placing it back on his dresser. He slipped a silver ring on his finger, and a black leather cuff around his wrist. A spritz of cologne, a finger-comb through his hair, and he was ready to go.
The bell buzzed. Chris pushed his way out of his room and past Miranda, hitting the button that would open the apartment entrance. “Come on up,” he said into the speaker.
“Chris?” his father looked up from his newspaper. “Are you going somewhere?”
“He’s going on a--”
Chris elbowed Miranda in the ribs. “I’m going to a concert. A local band is playing.”
Michael Rosette frowned. “I wish you would have told me about this sooner, Chris, I don’t know if I want you going out.”
He sighed. “C’mon, Dad, I’m just trying to get to know this place.” There was a knock on the door. “I mean, you can’t hole me up in my room, can you?” He grabbed Miranda by the back of the shirt, stopping her from answering the door. “I’ll get it, munchkin.”
“Don’t call me that!” she whined as he opened the door. Matt stood outside, smiling a little nervously.
“Hi,” Chris said.
“Hey. How are you?” Matt smiled.
“Good. Great. Should we get going?”
“Christopher, hold on. Do you need any money?” his dad asked, folding up his newspaper.
Matt looked over Chris’s shoulder, who was trying to form a block between the two different aspects of his lives--family and relationships.
“Oh, no sir, the show is free, and I’ll pay for dinner.”
Chris winced at the word ‘dinner’. He could practically see the expression on his father’s face as he worked it out.
“Oh. Well then, have a good time. Don’t stay out too late, Kit.”
“Okay, bye!” He pushed Matt forward and out the door, closing it behind him.
“Kit?” Matt grinned at him.
Chris made a face. “My sister started it. She couldn’t pronounce Chris when she was little, so she called me Kit. It stuck. Unfortunately.”
“I like it.” Matt laughed at his horrified expression. “It’s cute! It fits you.”
Chris nearly blushed. Matt was a little too skilled at that. “How have you been?” he asked, changing the subject. Rather lamely too.
“Not bad. Working. I’m glad to have the night off.” He gave him a warming smile that made Chris tingle.
“Hmm. What kind of band is it that we’re going to?” he asked as they approached his car. He slipped into the passenger’s side and buckled his seat belt while Matt got behind the wheel and started the car.
“Acoustic rock.”
He could have gathered as much from Matt’s clothing. Love-worn jeans, and a cardigan sweater worn over a button down shirt. He was adorably preppy. Acoustic rock indeed.
“As long as it’s not rap, I’m happy,” Chris said. “Or, wait, I take that back. Nothing classical, and nothing girly either.”
“So, what, no Britney?” Matt asked. He grinned.
“Ha,” Chris laughed dryly. Matt laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the mouth before pulling back and putting the car in drive.
They went to dinner first. True to his word, Matt paid. They actually got to know each other over their hour-long supper. They talked about their interests, their dislikes, their future goals. Matt was going to NYU after he graduated, and he wanted to go into business. He was a movie buff, and a music fanatic. They found a common interest in video games. They also found they shared a sense of humor, and spent the majority of their dinner telling dirty jokes and laughing so loudly the manager had to come over and ask them to keep their voices down.
After they left, Matt drove them to the concert. It was being held in a building that local bands could book regularly. There was an $8 fee to get in, but Matt just smiled at the girls who were taking money for tickets, and they tore off ticket stubs for them.
“Why…” Chris asked him wonderingly as Matt handed him his ticket stub.
“My brother’s the singer,” Matt said, smiling. “I get in free. Plus a friend.”
Chris laughed and slipped the ticket stub in his back pocket. “Nice. And here I thought you could get in free anywhere just by smiling.”
“Well not anywhere.”
It was crowded inside, but Matt just glided through them like they were water, holding Chris’s hand. Chris released their hands as soon as they stopped, and cast a quick, furtive glance around. Matt frowned, but didn’t say anything. The band was already starting, bringing the crowd into their music with a loud, energetic number.
Even if Matt hadn’t said the singer was his brother, Chris would have noticed the similarities. He was practically his duplicate, just a little older. He had a great voice, the low, sultry kind Chris had always admired and hadn’t quite achieved. Clearly, the girls admired it too. Someone tossed their bra on the stage. Chris flushed slightly in embarrassment.
They stood there, listening to the music and talking over it. Light conversation, concert-oriented. ‘This song is great’ and ‘they have a good sound.’ They didn’t dance, but moved to the music together.
When Matt’s arm slid around Chris’s waist, he pulled away sharply before he could even think. They stood apart, staring at each other, Matt’s sweet brown eyes slightly hurt.
“Are you… not out?” he asked in a low voice.
“No, I.. I mean. I am. To my family. I just.. don’t want to be public about it,” Chris said nervously.
“Mm. Okay.” Matt turned his attention back to the band. Chris couldn’t find the right words to say, and a long silence fell between them.
The band liked to talk to the audience in between songs. The singer, Matt’s brother, would tell them what inspired the song, or what it was about, or some other FYI. During one of these episodes, an eternity after his fallout with Matt, a girl with long, bottle-blonde hair approached Chris smilingly.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Krista.”
“Um. Chris.” He eyed her warily.
“You enjoying yourself?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. Tried not to glance at Matt.
She stayed there, chatting to him energetically about the band and about music in general. And life. And everything. He was mostly unresponsive, worrying that Matt would think he was flirting. Or that she would think he was flirting.
Krista flipped her hair. “So who’re you here with?” she asked.
He could say no one. He could. Instead, he pointed over to Matt, choosing to be bold and daring and out. “I’m with him.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw Matt smile.
“Yeah? Cute. How long you been dating?”
Chris had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. “Umm. Well. This is kind of…. sort of our first date. I guess.”
“Aww. Well you two have fun. Ooops. Gotta go.” She giggled. “My friend’s waiting for me. It was nice t’meet ya, Chris!” She squeezed his arm in farewell, and bounced off. Chris watched her go, amazed.
“What did you expect her to do?” Matt’s quiet voice asked from behind him. “Scream ‘fag’ and run away?”
“Yeah. Sorta.” Chris turned to him sheepishly.
Matt nodded. “Some people might. There are some people who are gonna hate you for what you are. But those people don’t matter.”
“This gay thing is kind of new to me,” Chris admitted quietly, reaching for Matt’s hand.
He laughed and squeezed his hand. “I can tell. It’s okay.” He pulled him closer to hug and kiss him. “It’s okay,” he repeated.
And it was okay.
'Verse: The Effect
Disclaimer: These characters belong to me. Yay.
Rating: slash - soft
Pairing: Chris/Matt
Feedback: I don't need any. Writing this mostly for me.
Author’s Notes: This follows Entrance. It's basically just me writing out parts of Chris's history. These little things are about his first boyfriend.
He threw out one outfit after another, tossing them onto his bed in a flurry of jean, leather, and cotton. Miranda had come in to watch him at one point, tutting every now and then so that he threw her out. Now it was just Chris and a closet full of worthless clothes.
Why didn’t I ask him what kind of band it was? he thought miserably, holding leather pants in one hand, beat-up jeans in the other. It made all the difference.
He’d have to find a go-between. Tight jeans, and his favorite black tank top that read “CTRL+ALT+DELETE.” Maybe it wasn’t the sexiest thing in the world, but at least he wouldn’t mix up the genre.
He realized he didn’t know much about Matt. Except that he was a good kisser. A great kisser. And cute. Really cute.
Rolling his eyes at his reflection, he clasped his cross around his neck, and then thought better of it, placing it back on his dresser. He slipped a silver ring on his finger, and a black leather cuff around his wrist. A spritz of cologne, a finger-comb through his hair, and he was ready to go.
The bell buzzed. Chris pushed his way out of his room and past Miranda, hitting the button that would open the apartment entrance. “Come on up,” he said into the speaker.
“Chris?” his father looked up from his newspaper. “Are you going somewhere?”
“He’s going on a--”
Chris elbowed Miranda in the ribs. “I’m going to a concert. A local band is playing.”
Michael Rosette frowned. “I wish you would have told me about this sooner, Chris, I don’t know if I want you going out.”
He sighed. “C’mon, Dad, I’m just trying to get to know this place.” There was a knock on the door. “I mean, you can’t hole me up in my room, can you?” He grabbed Miranda by the back of the shirt, stopping her from answering the door. “I’ll get it, munchkin.”
“Don’t call me that!” she whined as he opened the door. Matt stood outside, smiling a little nervously.
“Hi,” Chris said.
“Hey. How are you?” Matt smiled.
“Good. Great. Should we get going?”
“Christopher, hold on. Do you need any money?” his dad asked, folding up his newspaper.
Matt looked over Chris’s shoulder, who was trying to form a block between the two different aspects of his lives--family and relationships.
“Oh, no sir, the show is free, and I’ll pay for dinner.”
Chris winced at the word ‘dinner’. He could practically see the expression on his father’s face as he worked it out.
“Oh. Well then, have a good time. Don’t stay out too late, Kit.”
“Okay, bye!” He pushed Matt forward and out the door, closing it behind him.
“Kit?” Matt grinned at him.
Chris made a face. “My sister started it. She couldn’t pronounce Chris when she was little, so she called me Kit. It stuck. Unfortunately.”
“I like it.” Matt laughed at his horrified expression. “It’s cute! It fits you.”
Chris nearly blushed. Matt was a little too skilled at that. “How have you been?” he asked, changing the subject. Rather lamely too.
“Not bad. Working. I’m glad to have the night off.” He gave him a warming smile that made Chris tingle.
“Hmm. What kind of band is it that we’re going to?” he asked as they approached his car. He slipped into the passenger’s side and buckled his seat belt while Matt got behind the wheel and started the car.
“Acoustic rock.”
He could have gathered as much from Matt’s clothing. Love-worn jeans, and a cardigan sweater worn over a button down shirt. He was adorably preppy. Acoustic rock indeed.
“As long as it’s not rap, I’m happy,” Chris said. “Or, wait, I take that back. Nothing classical, and nothing girly either.”
“So, what, no Britney?” Matt asked. He grinned.
“Ha,” Chris laughed dryly. Matt laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the mouth before pulling back and putting the car in drive.
They went to dinner first. True to his word, Matt paid. They actually got to know each other over their hour-long supper. They talked about their interests, their dislikes, their future goals. Matt was going to NYU after he graduated, and he wanted to go into business. He was a movie buff, and a music fanatic. They found a common interest in video games. They also found they shared a sense of humor, and spent the majority of their dinner telling dirty jokes and laughing so loudly the manager had to come over and ask them to keep their voices down.
After they left, Matt drove them to the concert. It was being held in a building that local bands could book regularly. There was an $8 fee to get in, but Matt just smiled at the girls who were taking money for tickets, and they tore off ticket stubs for them.
“Why…” Chris asked him wonderingly as Matt handed him his ticket stub.
“My brother’s the singer,” Matt said, smiling. “I get in free. Plus a friend.”
Chris laughed and slipped the ticket stub in his back pocket. “Nice. And here I thought you could get in free anywhere just by smiling.”
“Well not anywhere.”
It was crowded inside, but Matt just glided through them like they were water, holding Chris’s hand. Chris released their hands as soon as they stopped, and cast a quick, furtive glance around. Matt frowned, but didn’t say anything. The band was already starting, bringing the crowd into their music with a loud, energetic number.
Even if Matt hadn’t said the singer was his brother, Chris would have noticed the similarities. He was practically his duplicate, just a little older. He had a great voice, the low, sultry kind Chris had always admired and hadn’t quite achieved. Clearly, the girls admired it too. Someone tossed their bra on the stage. Chris flushed slightly in embarrassment.
They stood there, listening to the music and talking over it. Light conversation, concert-oriented. ‘This song is great’ and ‘they have a good sound.’ They didn’t dance, but moved to the music together.
When Matt’s arm slid around Chris’s waist, he pulled away sharply before he could even think. They stood apart, staring at each other, Matt’s sweet brown eyes slightly hurt.
“Are you… not out?” he asked in a low voice.
“No, I.. I mean. I am. To my family. I just.. don’t want to be public about it,” Chris said nervously.
“Mm. Okay.” Matt turned his attention back to the band. Chris couldn’t find the right words to say, and a long silence fell between them.
The band liked to talk to the audience in between songs. The singer, Matt’s brother, would tell them what inspired the song, or what it was about, or some other FYI. During one of these episodes, an eternity after his fallout with Matt, a girl with long, bottle-blonde hair approached Chris smilingly.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Krista.”
“Um. Chris.” He eyed her warily.
“You enjoying yourself?”
“Sure.” He shrugged. Tried not to glance at Matt.
She stayed there, chatting to him energetically about the band and about music in general. And life. And everything. He was mostly unresponsive, worrying that Matt would think he was flirting. Or that she would think he was flirting.
Krista flipped her hair. “So who’re you here with?” she asked.
He could say no one. He could. Instead, he pointed over to Matt, choosing to be bold and daring and out. “I’m with him.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw Matt smile.
“Yeah? Cute. How long you been dating?”
Chris had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping. “Umm. Well. This is kind of…. sort of our first date. I guess.”
“Aww. Well you two have fun. Ooops. Gotta go.” She giggled. “My friend’s waiting for me. It was nice t’meet ya, Chris!” She squeezed his arm in farewell, and bounced off. Chris watched her go, amazed.
“What did you expect her to do?” Matt’s quiet voice asked from behind him. “Scream ‘fag’ and run away?”
“Yeah. Sorta.” Chris turned to him sheepishly.
Matt nodded. “Some people might. There are some people who are gonna hate you for what you are. But those people don’t matter.”
“This gay thing is kind of new to me,” Chris admitted quietly, reaching for Matt’s hand.
He laughed and squeezed his hand. “I can tell. It’s okay.” He pulled him closer to hug and kiss him. “It’s okay,” he repeated.
And it was okay.