Untitled 7/?
Title: untitled
Chapter: 7
Rating: PG-13, but will go up later
Pairings: Poger, Jeith
Warnings: swearing, au, little bit of violence
Disclaimer: i don't own the who sigh
Summary: after a mysterious freak weather accident, the who find themselves in a world they never imagined existed(ok i'm sorry that was bad but i tried)
wow this is hella short but um ok
hopefully the next one will be a lot longer ;o;
archive
Pete stuffed his fingers into his mouth, berating himself silently. Why didn't you bring mittens or gloves or something, you twat? he thought. They could all just break off and then you wouldn't have any fingers and then you couldn't play guitar and you'd have to quit the band-
Pete laughed bitterly. What band? From what had been going on, he was almost certain he was never going to get back to England.
He looked around, taking in the snowy landscape. It had recently begun to snow harder, little by little, day by day, and it was getting harder and harder to make it through the day. Stern was no mother duck - he didn't give two shits if you were freezing your ass off or if you'd fallen on your face. Pete had been yelled at to keep up and try harder more times than he could count. Not only was it frustrating...well, no, it was just frustrating and Pete had come close to just throwing himself down on the ground and having some sort of tantrum, but that was more Keith's thing.
Keith, Pete thought, sucking on his fingers absently. He didn't think he would, but he was seriously starting to miss him and all his loonie behavior. It was the same with John - sometimes Pete would get frustrated because he seemed to never respond to anything ever but in truth he was kind of the rock of the group and someone Pete could count on.
Roger was a whole different matter.
Pete loved the fact that he didn't have to deal with his endless whining and obsession with his appearance but he had a little hole in his heart that he felt he could only fill with Roger. It would be different if he just wasn't around but now with all the snow and all the work and just everything, it felt like he would never see Roger again. It felt like the strangest thing to think about the blonde singer like that, but Pete had himself distracted enough to not dwell on it. Usually he was the thinker, but this was something he really didn't want to think about.
He was sitting there feeling low when he heard the too familiar sound of Stern barking at him from behind.
"Come on Townshend! There's no time for sitting about!"
Pete grumbled curses under his breath and brought himself up, feeling his limbs crack uncomfortably. He pulled his furry fleece jacket closer around him and trotted up the snowy hill towards the others gathered around Stern. He stopped at the edge of the group warily - none of them liked him, and he'd decided he didn't like them either. They were pretty much all boneheads as far as Pete was concerned.
"I think we've covered most of everything today..." Pete looked up, eyes wide. Please say we can go now, please, please-
"Except combat. Come on, all of you."
That tantrum idea was starting to become very appealing.
Pete hated combat. It wasn't that he wasn't good at it - smashing up guitars all the time apparently helped that sort of thing and he'd actually been complimented by Stern once or twice for it - but he hated the whole idea of being run through or something. Though he knew they weren't going hard enough for that he couldn't help flinching a bit when a sword or a knife or something got too close to him.
Nobody ever really wanted to be his partner, so he just ended up with whoever was left, some weird wheezy loser kid. Just like me, Pete thought bitterly as he faced him.
Pete was basically moving through the motions at this point. He honestly didn't give two shits about the war or kings or dams or any of that.
The only thing that mattered was filling up that little hole in his heart.
Chapter: 7
Rating: PG-13, but will go up later
Pairings: Poger, Jeith
Warnings: swearing, au, little bit of violence
Disclaimer: i don't own the who sigh
Summary: after a mysterious freak weather accident, the who find themselves in a world they never imagined existed(ok i'm sorry that was bad but i tried)
wow this is hella short but um ok
hopefully the next one will be a lot longer ;o;
archive
Pete stuffed his fingers into his mouth, berating himself silently. Why didn't you bring mittens or gloves or something, you twat? he thought. They could all just break off and then you wouldn't have any fingers and then you couldn't play guitar and you'd have to quit the band-
Pete laughed bitterly. What band? From what had been going on, he was almost certain he was never going to get back to England.
He looked around, taking in the snowy landscape. It had recently begun to snow harder, little by little, day by day, and it was getting harder and harder to make it through the day. Stern was no mother duck - he didn't give two shits if you were freezing your ass off or if you'd fallen on your face. Pete had been yelled at to keep up and try harder more times than he could count. Not only was it frustrating...well, no, it was just frustrating and Pete had come close to just throwing himself down on the ground and having some sort of tantrum, but that was more Keith's thing.
Keith, Pete thought, sucking on his fingers absently. He didn't think he would, but he was seriously starting to miss him and all his loonie behavior. It was the same with John - sometimes Pete would get frustrated because he seemed to never respond to anything ever but in truth he was kind of the rock of the group and someone Pete could count on.
Roger was a whole different matter.
Pete loved the fact that he didn't have to deal with his endless whining and obsession with his appearance but he had a little hole in his heart that he felt he could only fill with Roger. It would be different if he just wasn't around but now with all the snow and all the work and just everything, it felt like he would never see Roger again. It felt like the strangest thing to think about the blonde singer like that, but Pete had himself distracted enough to not dwell on it. Usually he was the thinker, but this was something he really didn't want to think about.
He was sitting there feeling low when he heard the too familiar sound of Stern barking at him from behind.
"Come on Townshend! There's no time for sitting about!"
Pete grumbled curses under his breath and brought himself up, feeling his limbs crack uncomfortably. He pulled his furry fleece jacket closer around him and trotted up the snowy hill towards the others gathered around Stern. He stopped at the edge of the group warily - none of them liked him, and he'd decided he didn't like them either. They were pretty much all boneheads as far as Pete was concerned.
"I think we've covered most of everything today..." Pete looked up, eyes wide. Please say we can go now, please, please-
"Except combat. Come on, all of you."
That tantrum idea was starting to become very appealing.
Pete hated combat. It wasn't that he wasn't good at it - smashing up guitars all the time apparently helped that sort of thing and he'd actually been complimented by Stern once or twice for it - but he hated the whole idea of being run through or something. Though he knew they weren't going hard enough for that he couldn't help flinching a bit when a sword or a knife or something got too close to him.
Nobody ever really wanted to be his partner, so he just ended up with whoever was left, some weird wheezy loser kid. Just like me, Pete thought bitterly as he faced him.
Pete was basically moving through the motions at this point. He honestly didn't give two shits about the war or kings or dams or any of that.
The only thing that mattered was filling up that little hole in his heart.