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Aug. 4th, 2003 06:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsBe warned. My first popslash short behind the cut. If you don't approve/like don't click the link.
Propped up in bed, Kevin stared at the ceiling, lost in though. He was tired after the concert, body weary but his mind refused to slow down, and finally he’d given up on sleep and just remembered.
Sometimes, when he though back, Kevin imagined he could see a set of markers, signifying the important things in his life. Some stood proud and tall. The first number one, the first platinum album, the day he stood hidden behind dark curtains, secretly awe struck at the huge numbers of fans crowded into the arena.
Others lay battered to the ground, signifying the times he’d rather forget. The time he lay fully clothed on a hard hotel bed, close to tears in a strange country, bone weary but knowing he had to gather his strength to rally and comfort the others. Or when he faced Lou down despite his stomach churning and hands that threatened to shake out of control.
In-between were the markers that didn’t stand tall or flat to the floor. The events that were neither all bad or all good, but memorable all the same. There were a lot of those, most all concerning his band-mates. Clubbing with AJ and drinking vodka shots until they both forgot about image and just were, feeling the music, dancing to their own internal beat as the lights flashed round them. Talking with Nick as they shared fears and hopes as the sun sank over the ocean. Relaxed on recliners, they'd hardly moved, just two voices hushed in the still air. Travelling home with Brian, forgetting about being Backstreet Boys, the personas cast off as they neared their extended family.
Then there was Howie; the markers with him were plentiful. When they met, the way they’d sit together as the others let of steam, feeling so much older and wiser despite being so young themselves. They would talk and laugh and just be there for one another. Kevin remembered drinking and dancing, watching foreign TV shows in barren rooms, crawling into yet another strange bed in another strange hotel.
There was their first kiss, dry and fast when Howie reached up and brushed his lips against Kevin’s before walking from the room, leaving Kevin staring at the door like an idiot, holding his fingers over his own lips.
After that the markers blurred, more gentle kisses, the first time Howie took his hand, massaging Kevin’s palm as he looked at him with dark eyes. Lying together on a bed covered with a hideous green bedspread. Holding onto the headboard with white knuckled hands as Howie took him for the first time, while whispering his name as Kevin muffled his own moans, aware of the other three on the other side of the wall.
They’d thought they’d been discrete, but the knowing smirks at breakfast soon destroyed that illusion, and Kevin had sat red faced at the innuendos that dominated the conversation. But he also remembered the quiet congratulations and quick hugs from each boy, all expressing support and acceptance, something that continued to this day.
Sliding carefully from the bed, Kevin rearranged the sheet, making sure Howie was covered against the slightly chilly night air. Resisting the urge to caress an exposed shoulder, he stood and walked to the balcony, pushing open the French doors to go outside. Above the moon shone brightly, causing black shadows that blanketed the landscape, familiar objects distorted in the darkness. Standing at the railings, Kevin stared into the distance, still lost in memories.
Mind firmly in the past, he jumped a little when an arm slid round his waist, jerking him back to the present. Not turning, Kevin relaxed back, knowing Howie’s strong arms would hold him steady. They didn’t speak, content to stand together, united like they’d been for so long -- and hopefully, well into the future.
Propped up in bed, Kevin stared at the ceiling, lost in though. He was tired after the concert, body weary but his mind refused to slow down, and finally he’d given up on sleep and just remembered.
Sometimes, when he though back, Kevin imagined he could see a set of markers, signifying the important things in his life. Some stood proud and tall. The first number one, the first platinum album, the day he stood hidden behind dark curtains, secretly awe struck at the huge numbers of fans crowded into the arena.
Others lay battered to the ground, signifying the times he’d rather forget. The time he lay fully clothed on a hard hotel bed, close to tears in a strange country, bone weary but knowing he had to gather his strength to rally and comfort the others. Or when he faced Lou down despite his stomach churning and hands that threatened to shake out of control.
In-between were the markers that didn’t stand tall or flat to the floor. The events that were neither all bad or all good, but memorable all the same. There were a lot of those, most all concerning his band-mates. Clubbing with AJ and drinking vodka shots until they both forgot about image and just were, feeling the music, dancing to their own internal beat as the lights flashed round them. Talking with Nick as they shared fears and hopes as the sun sank over the ocean. Relaxed on recliners, they'd hardly moved, just two voices hushed in the still air. Travelling home with Brian, forgetting about being Backstreet Boys, the personas cast off as they neared their extended family.
Then there was Howie; the markers with him were plentiful. When they met, the way they’d sit together as the others let of steam, feeling so much older and wiser despite being so young themselves. They would talk and laugh and just be there for one another. Kevin remembered drinking and dancing, watching foreign TV shows in barren rooms, crawling into yet another strange bed in another strange hotel.
There was their first kiss, dry and fast when Howie reached up and brushed his lips against Kevin’s before walking from the room, leaving Kevin staring at the door like an idiot, holding his fingers over his own lips.
After that the markers blurred, more gentle kisses, the first time Howie took his hand, massaging Kevin’s palm as he looked at him with dark eyes. Lying together on a bed covered with a hideous green bedspread. Holding onto the headboard with white knuckled hands as Howie took him for the first time, while whispering his name as Kevin muffled his own moans, aware of the other three on the other side of the wall.
They’d thought they’d been discrete, but the knowing smirks at breakfast soon destroyed that illusion, and Kevin had sat red faced at the innuendos that dominated the conversation. But he also remembered the quiet congratulations and quick hugs from each boy, all expressing support and acceptance, something that continued to this day.
Sliding carefully from the bed, Kevin rearranged the sheet, making sure Howie was covered against the slightly chilly night air. Resisting the urge to caress an exposed shoulder, he stood and walked to the balcony, pushing open the French doors to go outside. Above the moon shone brightly, causing black shadows that blanketed the landscape, familiar objects distorted in the darkness. Standing at the railings, Kevin stared into the distance, still lost in memories.
Mind firmly in the past, he jumped a little when an arm slid round his waist, jerking him back to the present. Not turning, Kevin relaxed back, knowing Howie’s strong arms would hold him steady. They didn’t speak, content to stand together, united like they’d been for so long -- and hopefully, well into the future.
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Date: 2003-08-04 01:07 pm (UTC)I've stories in other fandoms, but I have beta's and other fans I know in those. I know no one in BSB fandom, so posting something without anyone seeing it first felt like jumping into the unknown. Plus I was still confused about the whole fanon/canon thing in terms of rps.
Which is a long winded way of saying, I'm glad that you liked it!