Fandom/Pairing: Lostprophets: Mike Lewis/Jamie Oliver.
Rating/Warning: Um. PG-13? I guess. I don’t know. Slassshhhhhh.
Random Notes?: Aww, my little angst muffin. Poor boy. I’m so mean to him in my stories, so this is me trying to give him something fluffy? Except. It didn’t work too well seeing as I suck at writing fluff. I don’t think you can even call this fluff. It’s not nearly happy enough. Oh, and I don’t think any of these things about our little Michael, I just needed to establish his character. I adore him, really. Don’t hate me for saying mean things.
Oh and thanks to Trina and Carolyn for making sure ths doesn't completely suck. And thank you to Trina for also helping me with the title. Lyrics from the film Moulin Rouge.
You groan as you skim over the updates.
A Bridge too Far: Ian is in love with Lee. But does Lee love him back?
Bathed in Sorrow: Lee/Ian. His blue eyes, drowning me, swallowing me whole. What I wouldn't give for just one night. Chapter 3 up.
My Konstantine: Ian and Lee break up, but Lee still loves him. Can they work it out? r&r people.
Guernica: Jamie's been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Ian and Lee are doing everything they can to help him get better. Warning: DEATHFIC!
My Immortal: sappy lee/ian love fic peoples. extremely fluffy...r&r biatch!
You scroll further down until you reach the end. Same as always. Ian and Lee. Lee and Ian. Occasionally, Jamie gets his own stories too. Running a hand through your dark hair, you sigh as you wonder if these people know anything about your band. That there are members besides Ian, Lee, and Jamie. Members like you. But do you ever get stories? Nope. Why? Because you're invisible. The quiet, forgotten guitarist, hidden in the background. The one who is forced to keep to himself, because everyone ignores him.
You heave a sigh and rise from your seat, sauntering over to the bathroom mirror, frowning as you get closer, completely dissatisfied with the image staring back at you. Eyes puffy and dark from a lack of sleep, you rub them viciously in hopes that a different figure will be reflected back at you. Nothing. The very same pair of exhausted eyes remains in the glass, and much to your dismay, the form will not disappear.
You slowly turn to the side, your gaze sliding down the mirror to your stomach, a grimace appearing on your face. Absolutely pathetic. Milky white, pale skin clings to your unhealthily thin frame, and you run your hand along your front, tracing what would be the lines of muscles, if you had any. Your protruding ribs cause you to wince in revulsion; you know you’re not healthy, yet you continue to skip meals.
If only you had a body like the singer. If only you could walk around without a shirt. If only you could walk by someone at a beach, and not have them turn away in disgust. If only, if only. You long to have that creamy brown tint to your skin, and to have those lightly defined abdominal muscles adorning your thin form. To have people admire you, adore you, turning their heads to get a better look as you walk by…you wonder what it feels like. You long to know how it feels to be sexy.
Your eyes follow down the bony structure from your slender hips just barely concealed by your boxers, to your scrawny, almost fragile legs, and back up your torso to your narrow and slightly feminine shoulders, and down your gaunt arms. Who would ever want this? Anyone who thinks anything positive about you can’t possibly be sane.
You suddenly freeze, ears perking up to a faint sound of clicking in the distance. Curious, you peek your head out of the bathroom, you eyes widening involuntarily as you see a familiar figure working away on your laptop. You tense up, realizing what you’ve left open…the fanfiction website. The one person who you care most about is now reading through twisted stories about love, lust, and drama… some even containing him. He’ll be frightened! You feel your throat tighten and your pulse race as you begin to think of his possible reactions…
”I can’t believe you enjoy reading those!”
“You sick puppy, what is the matter with you?”
“I can’t stay with you knowing what you do with your free time!”
You tell yourself over and over that this can’t be happening, that you’ll suddenly wake up and everything will be fine, and your secret will remain hidden. You blink a few times, sweat turning cold as you learn the scene before you won’t vanish. You can’t lose him, you just can’t. If it weren’t for him, well, you’re not sure if you’d even be here. He’s kept you motivated, inspiring you to write music. He’s shown you so much, given you so many new experiences. He’s opened your eyes to different areas of the arts, areas you’ve never fully appreciated before. But most of all, he is your savior. Your hero.
He’s rescued you from those nights you spent hunched over the toilet, ridding yourself of anything you’ve eaten. He’s rescued you from those nights you spent huddled in dark corners, crying until you’ve rid yourself of all your tears. He’s held you as you wept, whispering to you that things will get better, that he could help you.
You’re shaken from your thoughts as you hear his laugh, the laugh that is contagious and intoxicating, the laugh you can’t help but smile at, the laugh that makes you forget your pain momentarily, the laugh that you’ve fallen in love with. You reluctantly step out of the bathroom, pulling a hooded sweater over yourself and gingerly approaching the couch, trying to prepare yourself for the worst letdown of your time. Your gaze falls to the floor and you remain silent; you’ll make things worse if you open your mouth. You always do.
You hear him speak your name and you sigh softly, not wanting to face him but you know you don’t have a choice. Raising your head, you are met with warm brown eyes and a genuine smile as he slides his arms around your waist, gently drawing you into his lap. You’re confused by this, so you remain still, your body tense and uptight. He senses that you’re uncomfortable and he brings a hand to your back, gently rubbing it, the way he does whenever he’s comforting you.
“What is it, love? Did you think I would be disturbed, or something?”
You nod sheepishly, amazing with how well he knows you. He just grins.
“It’s kind of hot, actually”.
You look at him with a bewildered expression as he leans forward slightly. “So, you’re not going to leave me?”
He cocks an eyebrow, looking up at you. “Course not, Mike. Why would I leave you, especially for something silly like this? I’m sorry but you can’t get rid of me so easily, mate”. He chuckles and the corners of your lips curve upwards slightly as you feel his soft lips on your cheek. A large wave of relief flows through you and you relax completely into his arms, resting your head on his shoulder.
“Look at this one, Mike.” You look to the screen, reading the comment that he’s pointed out to you.
No! You can’t slash Jamie with him! That’s just wrong! It should only ever be Jamie and Lee! Jamie does not like anyone except Lee!
You smile softly as you feel his breath on your neck. Poor souls. They don't have a clue. You both share a lighthearted laugh and the DJ tightens his grip around your waist, holding you fondly. Your eyes begin to close and you wonder how it’s physically possible for one person to make you feel so wonderful. His soothing voice fills your ears and you slowly open your eyes, realizing that he’s randomly clicked on a story, and he’s reading it to you. You smile warmly, pleased that he’s showing an interest in fanfiction.
“He whimpers as you pull his bottom lip into your mouth, gently biting the flesh. His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards. He slides his hands up and under your shirt as he pulls his tongue out of your mouth and traces his way down your neck. Two identical moans fill the air as your bodies come crashing down together on the bed”.
Your mind begins to wander; it has been doing that a lot lately. You think about everything he’s done for you, everything he’s done to help you. Since that day he walked in on you. No one was supposed to know about what you did after you would eat. About how you would crouch over the toilet and throw everything up. He caught you. Vulnerable and crying. You thought he would lecture you, tell you how stupid you are…but he didn’t. He knelt down beside you and held you. He rubbed your back and told you that you didn’t have to hurt yourself. That you are perfect the way you are.
From that day he would stay with you after meals, making sure you wouldn’t vomit. He’d tell you that you need to eat, that he’s worried about your health, that he hates to see you so sick. He’d make a special effort to bring you healthy snacks throughout the day. And little by little you began to keep your meals down. You still hardly eat at all, but when you do, you keep it down. You promised him you’d never force yourself to vomit again.
“You run your hands through his shaggy black hair as your tongue plays with his earlobe, and you feel the vibration of his moan flow through you to a place painfully close to your manhood. You pull away and sit up, grabbing hold of your shirt and pulling it over your head. You discard it and quickly remove his, tossing it into an unknown corner of the hotel room”.
He’s not only helped you overcome a lot of your troubles, but he’s opened you up to all kinds of new things, and he’s given you experiences you couldn’t have even imagined. He’s taught you all about the arts, by taking you to art shows and galleries, and he’s shown you his many sketches and paintings, something he rarely does. You became interested in visual arts through him, and though you’re not very talented with realism, you’ve drawn many abstract images, some of which have even inspired him.
He’s not only opened your eyes to the arts, but he’s taught you to appreciate all the little things in life. You remember one night he took you for a walk, and he had stopped in front of a garden to smell the flowers. You knelt down beside him and he turned to you, asking “Isn’t it amazing that nature can produce something like this? That something could smell so wonderful…so perfect to us?” Most people would never believe that the outgoing, playful, and funny DJ has such a sensitive, contemplative side to him, but you’re the only one who knows him that well.
You had never thought before, about the way everything in the world just seems to fit together. How apples taste so good, and how trees breathe out what we need to breathe in, and how tiny little spiders get rid of the bugs that can harm us. He helped you to notice all the tiny perfections on the Earth.
Perfections like him. He’s shown you the world. You’ve put every faith in him; you gave yourself to him. Completely. You remember being frightened, but you knew he would never hurt you. He made you feel things you didn’t even know were possible, he gave you so much pleasure, you had forgotten about everything that was bothering you. That one night, you would remember for the rest of your life. That night he first told you he loves you.
“You almost fall over as he jolts upright, and you throw your arms around him to keep yourself in position. Your open mouths attach and your tongues battle for space in his mouth. You drop one of your hands to his lap, slowly rubbing him through his clothing. He groans and you feel your pants become more restricting by the second”.
You can’t even begin to comprehend the relationship between you and him, all you know is that he makes you feel right. Like you belong with him. Like it was meant for him to rescue you, for him to be your savior.
You can’t put into words how wonderful you feel when you’re with him. You feel as if you’re in a dream, in a surreal universe. Like the night you shared your first kiss with him. You were sitting beside him on the beach one evening, watching the sunset. You had commented on the mixture of oranges, reds, purples, and blues, and you told him you thought it was stunning, and absolutely beautiful. He told you it reminds him of you. That you’re beautiful. No one had ever said anything like that to you. You remember nearly crying.
“He pries his mouth off yours for a moment, just long enough to fiddle with your belt, and you take advantage of this opportunity to abandon your pants. He whimpers as you stand up, but a satisfied grin overcomes his face when you lean over to remove his pants as well. He aids you by kicking them to the ground, and you immediately attack his collarbone with your tongue”.
Even though he makes you feel spectacular, and he treats you better than anyone ever did, you’re still not happy. You can’t understand why you still hate yourself. He tells you you’re beautiful, you’re perfect, and that he loves you. But every time you look in the mirror you want to shatter it. You don’t think that will ever change. As much as he’s done for you, you can’t seem to believe the things he says. You wish you could always feel the way you do when you’re with him, but you know that’s not possible. You’re far too disgusted with your body.
But you begin to wonder if that really matters. You know you’re too harsh on yourself, maybe that just comes naturally. Maybe you just need him to take you away from all that. Maybe he’s all you really need. Like that song by The Beatles. All you need is love, love is all you need. You realize that you finally understand the meaning of the song.
So why can’t you tell him how you feel? He’s told you countless times that he loves you, but you can’t seem to say it back. Maybe you’re just afraid. Afraid of what could happen. You could be happy. Truly happy. Why does that scare you? You figure it’s because this has never happened before. Anything new can be frightening.
“He writhes underneath you, and you cant help but smile as you run your tongue in circles around his nipple. You pull away and blow lightly on the saliva-coated skin, feeling him shiver beneath you. This process is repeated again on the other side. Pleased with his reaction, you trail down his torso, paying close attention to the sensitive skin of his hips”.
You’re jolted from your thoughts as you hear a slight change in his tone as he’s reading. His voice seems glazed over in…could it be lust? You haven’t been paying too much attention to what he’s been reading, so you figure it’s entirely possible. Listening closer, you smirk as you hear the smutty story, realizing that he must be getting a bit worked up by reading it.
You settle down, lacing one of your hands with his, shifting slightly in his lap. His free hand finds its way into your hair, idly playing with it, and you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly. You gingerly place your other hand on his lower stomach, slipping under his shirt, and you gently rub small circles across the flesh. It’s moments like these that you wish you weren’t so critical of yourself. You wish you could forget about yourself and concentrate on the butterflies delicately fluttering inside your stomach.
“He arches his back, craving for your touch and you gladly accept his silent proposal. You wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and very slowly engulf him. You work your tongue around as you bob your head, and he groans loudly, unconsciously bucking his hips. He tangles his hands in your dark hair, and you can tell he’s getting close, so you slow down and lift your mouth away, licking your lips. He whimpers and you smirk, crawling up his body and kissing him fiercely”.
He laughs softly and you smile, the sound flowing through you like the warmth of a summer breeze. You watch him unlink his hand from yours, reaching forward and shutting down the laptop before encircling your waist.
“We should start reading more of these stories together, yeah?” You join in his laugh, nodding slowly and tilting your head, pressing your lips quickly against his neck. He pulls back a short distance, his affectionate brown eyes meeting yours, and he smiles warmly, closing the gap between your mouths.
Suddenly you’re both startled out of the lip-lock by a loud beeping, and the DJ laughs.
“That would be our dinner. I’ll be back in a few minutes okay? You just wait here, love.”
You nod sadly and slide off his lap, and he rises to his feet, placing an elegant kiss to the top of your head before slowly heading for the kitchen. You watch him exit the room, your eyes dropping to your feet once he’s out of your vision. A quiet, almost inaudible sound escapes you, becoming lost in the empty hallway.
“I love you”.
Never knew I could feel like this
Like I've never seen the sky before
Want to vanish inside your kiss
Every day I love you more than this
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing
Telling me to give you everything
Seasons may change, winter to spring
But I love you until the end of time
Come what may
Come what may
I will love you until my dying day
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste
It all revolves around you
And there's no mountain too high
No river too wide
Sing out this song I'll be there by your side
Storm clouds may gather
And stars may collide
But I love you until the end of time
Oh, come what may, come what may
I will love you, I will love you
Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place…