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genesbitch
30 August 2015 @ 06:36 pm
Brand new to Libs fanfiction so please be gentle.

Been writing fics for about 10 years now on various sites but this is my first Carl/Pete.

Inspired by my favourite song of theirs...it was a silly ficlet that got mushy.

Fic is over here...Collapse )

The first time they had met up to "rehearse", just the two of them, they had ended up kissing delicately on the edge of the bed. Like two underage schoolkids exploring their sexuality for the first time. Carl had never kissed a boy before. For that's all he was. Pete had never kissed anyone before. They were thrown together on a journey of self exploration. And a journey of mutual exploration.

Carl never really understood how is came to pass. He never really understood how it all happened. He just knew that he loved Pete. That he loved him wholly and completely and that he would do anything for him. Would do anything with him. Would do anything to him.

Pete had been the first one to declare feelings of undying love, though Carl had quickly reciprocated. Carl couldn't remember who kissed who first. He couldn't remember who touched who first. It didn't matter.

As he sat there, beside Pete, his stomach was tied in knots. Pete had bounded into the room, excited, proclaiming lyrics to a new song. But now his bravado had shrunk and he sat on the sofa, embarrassed, coy, bashful.

The anticipation in the room was making Carl feeling sick.

"It's only me, why can't you just sing it to me?"

Pete blushed, Carl had never seen him so uneasy, usually so footloose and fancy free. Where had his wanton abandon gone?

"I feel stupid now, it's no good, let's write another one together"

Carl sighed.

"Okay, just let me read the lyrics then, like a poem. No one has to sing anything"

"No, it's too personal"

"Too personal?! You're talking to the man who has had his tongue down your throat and his fingers up your arse!"

Pete smiled. Almost laughed.

"It's..."

He paused. He looked into Carl's eyes of blue and then looked away, flushed.

"It's what?", Carl asked, eager to know what was going through Pete's mind.

"It's...well, it's about you"

He stared down, focusing intently on a small grey stain on the carpet.

Carl didn't say anything, merely nodded in silent understanding, though Pete was, of course, oblivious to the gesture.

A heavy silence flooded the room as the pair sat side by side, unable to meet each others' gaze.

"Fuck it Rigsby, i want to hear what you've written about me"

Pete snapped his head round, eyes full of innocence and glee. He leant forward and took Carl's face in his hands, planting a heavy kiss on his full lips with a loud, theatrical, 'mwah'.

Pete stood, crossed the room to pick up his battered guitar and perched opposite Carl, leant against the radiator.

Carl readied himself on the sofa, leaning forward to fully appreciate this one on one performance, staring expectantly.

"It's not polished so don't laugh if i fuck it up, alright?"

Carl nodded;

"Just get on with it".

You'll never fumigate the demons,
No matter how much you smoke.
So just say you love me
For three good reasons...
And I'll throw you the rope,
You don't need it.


Pete paused momentarily, gauging Carl's reaction, keen for approval.

Carl was silent, eagerly awaiting more.

'Cos you are the survivor,
Of more than one life.
And you're the only lover I had,
Who ever slept with a knife.


Carl eyes began to mist over and Pete could see the contortion on his face as he tried to hide how hard that last line had hit him.

But you're not Judy Garland,
Oh just like me you've never really had a home of your own.
But I'm not Tony Hancock baby,
Until the dawn we'll stone the crows,
We'll stone the crows,
We'll stone the crows.


Carl was letting the tears roll down his cheek now. How had Peter so perfectly written their entire relationship in such few words? How had he got such a measure of him in such a short space of time? How had he allowed himself to be so open and unguarded, to let Pete in so fully? How had he fallen so deeply in love with another man?

Pete, in spite of such a public display of emotion, unusual for Carl, continued singing.

And you see I've brought you flowers,
All collected from the Old Vic Stage
Well I've been sitting here for hour's baby
Just chasing these words,
Across the page.

Cos you're my Waterloo,
I'll be your Gypsy Lane.
I'm so glad we know just what to do,
And exactly who's to blame.

And you're my Waterloo
I'll be your Stanley Park
Well I'm so glad we know just what to do
And no ones left
Stumbling around
Fumbling around
Tumbling around
In the dark
Always in the dark


Pete strummed his last and Carl pushed himself up and enveloped Pete in a messy, sobbing, snotty hug, the guitar crushing painfully between them.

"I fucking love you Peter Doherty, those are the most beautiful words i think anyone has ever written"

Pete smiled, comforted by his words, but reluctant to accept such a blindingly untrue compliment.

Carl unravelled his arms and Pete put the guitar down.

Carl wrapped his arms around Pete's neck and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Thank you"

Pete laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

"Carl, i'm the girl in this relationship. I've always been the girl. I'm the needy one who looks for affirmation and reassurance. I'm the jealous one needs you nearby. I'm the fanboy always seeking your approval. All i did was write a song"

Carl lifted his head.

"No, you wrote me a song. You wrote an ode to our time together. It's personal and honest and true, and it perfectly surmises this time and place and nothing and no one can ever take that away".

Carl leant up and kissed Pete softly on the lips. It was tender and sweet. And short.

"I wrote you a fucking ode and that's all i get?"

Carl laughed.

As he laughed their lips met again and teeth and tongues clashed and clambered as they laughed and kissed and enjoyed each other's taste.

Carl pushed Pete and steered him back over to the sofa, sat him down and sank to his knees in front of him. He pushed opened his legs and began to run his hand slowly up the inside of his leg. Over his knee. Up his thigh. Until he was greeted with a familiar hardness desperately pressing against Pete's cotton trousers.

"Wait"

Carl froze in his tracks.

"What?"

"Later"

Carl sat back onto his haunches, confused.

"What?"

"I need to write the ending for the song first"

Carl was a little miffed, he couldn't tell if Pete was joking or not.

"You're foregoing a blow job to finish writing the song?"

Pete nodded.

"Come here"

Pete patted the seat beside him.

Carl lifted himself to his feet and sat beside him.

"Do you remember the first time we kissed?"

Carl nodded, still a little unsure about the turn the evening was taking.

"Do you remember the fear and the uncertainty you felt as i leant in to kiss you?"

Carl smiled, so it was Pete who had made the first move.

"Yeah..."

"That's not how it was for me. I had never been more sure of anything in my life. I knew i was going to kiss you from the moment i first saw you. I knew i was going to fuck you from the moment i first kissed you. And i knew i was going to love you from the moment i first heard your voice"

Carl could feel his heart racing, his cheeks flushing and his eyes beginning to well again.

"I've never loved anyone more completely that i do you, and when i am with you, my life has a purpose. My words have meaning. My thoughts have anchor. Without you i am lost at sea. A man overboard. The Albion will always sail but we'll only reach Arcadia if we're both on board."

Carl swallowed hard. He wanted to interject. He spoke softly, quietly.

"I'm on board".

For a second he thought Pete might not have heard him. But then he leant forward and they kissed. Tentatively, as if they were sharing their first kiss again. Carl melted into Pete's kiss and Pete lost himself in Carl's touch. Carl thought there might never have been so much love in one kiss.

Slowly, gently, Pete broke away and he stared into those deep, beautiful, pained eyes again.

"I know how it ends"

Carl smiled and Pete rose to pick up the guitar again. He sat down again and played in on his lap.

You're my Waterloo,
I'll be your Calvary.
Well I'm so glad we know just what to do,
And everyone's gonna be happy,
Everyone's gonna be happy,
Everyone's gonna be happy.


Carl inched himself forward, rested his head against Pete's shoulder and strummed the strings one final time.

"But of course".
 
 
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