Author's Note: Hey hey hey!
Yeah, so, last chapter, something actually HAPPENED. Which is good, y'know.
This story only has seven chapters (sorry), but there is a sequel that will be coming up right after. I wrote this before I even started the blog, and I am currently starting work on the next one (which is currently unnamed). I also have the rest of ~X~Fix Your Eyes~X~ and ~X~Take Your Gloves~X~ to add onto here. Then there's my Percy/Oliver MPreg fanfic (currently on my fanfiction.net account.) You can to that account with this link: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/408067/allikitty699
I'll be taking all of my fics from there and transferring them to here. None of my bandfics can be found there, though, due to a rule that states that no fics may be written about actual people. (There's no way to get around it. I tried.)
So, without further ado, chapter four.
Name: Feeling This
Pairing: Mark/Tom (blink_182)
Genre: Romance, slightly AU
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 4: Party Song
“So, where are we going?” Scott asked. It was 11:30, and Mark was climbing into his car.
“Don’t be nervous,” Mark said in response to Scott’s flickering gaze. “We’re just going to a party. We just gotta pick up Travis.”
Scott raised an eyebrow. “What about Tom? I thought you two couldn’t wipe your asses without the other one right beside you. OW! Jesus, Mark!”
“Say it again and I’ll hit you further south,” Mark barked. “Tom wouldn’t come along, anyway. I tried to get him to, but he decided to stay home alone, per usual.”
“I can’t believe you think Travis is gonna be able to get out.” Scott shook his head. “You know his mom put bars on his window?”
“He’s in a lot greater danger inside than out,” Mark pointed out. “That ‘falling down’ shit only works a few times. I didn’t think his mom was that fucking crazy.”
“She’s not,” Scott replied, flipping on the headlights. “Bradley is, though. I mean, it’d be pretty damn rough for most kids, but Trav… If his heart rate picks up even a little too much, he’s fucked.”
“Yeah, I know.” Mark sighed. “With his mom being so cuckoo for Cocopuffs about his health, you’d think she’d realize that him constantly getting his ass handed to him is a slight detriment to his health.”
“No shit.” Scott squinted into the distance, looking for Travis’s house. “She keeps waiting for Trav’s dad to come home, but then she goes off and dates bastards like Bradley.”
“I’m sorry, but after nine years, he’s not coming back.” Mark kicked his feet up on the dash. “I’m just pissed that the asshole keeps calling and getting Trav’s hopes up.”
“Oh, Trav knows he’s gone for good. He’s not stupid. He just agrees with his mom ‘cause he loves her. He won’t tell her it’s bullshit.”
“Well, yeah. She’d fly off the fucking handle and go all ‘wire hangers’ on his ass.”
“Someone needs to tell her to pop a couple hundred Valium and shut the fuck up.”
They turned into Travis’s driveway and hopped out. Scott rang the doorbell while Mark tapped at one of the fake plants on the porch.
Travis’s mother came to the door. “Oh, hello Scott.” She smiled gently. “What are you doing here?”
“Mark and I are staying overnight at Tom’s, and we wanted to know if Travis wanted to join us.” It was the same lie Scott gave Mrs. Barker almost every week. If she ever found out all the times Scott took Trav to the movies or the mall, she’d have a goddamn conniption.
Mrs. Barker bit her lip, then sighed. “I suppose that would be all right.” She called up the stairs. “Travis? Scott and Mark are here to take you to Tom’s.”
Travis sprinted down the stairs and through the hallway to grab his shoes.
“Not too fast, Travis!” Mrs. Barker squealed after him. “Your heart.”
Travis went to the door, shoes on. “I apologize, Mother.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Be home by noon,” Mrs. Barker instructed. “And don’t do anything careless. Take your pills with you, and remember to keep your jacket on, it’s getting cold. Oh, and –“
“Mother, I know,” Travis interrupted. “I’ll be fine. Goodbye.”
With that, Scott slammed the door in Mrs. Barker’s face.
“That’s a nice-looking shiner,” Mark told Travis, brushing the side of his face. “Where can I get one?”
Travis’s hand flew up to shield his eye. His visible eye widened in silent panic. “Uh – um – I f-fell.”
“You see to be falling down a lot,” Scott replied, unlocking his car.
Travis shrugged offhandedly. “I’m clumsy.” After several seconds of awkward silence he asked, “So, we’re going to Tom’s?”
“Travis. How many times have we gone to Tom’s when we told your mom we were going to?” Mark asked. Travis averted his eyes and stared at his shoes. He was always a little standoffish with Mark.
“We’re going to a party,” Scott grumbled. “And of course, I’m the designated driver.”
“And I’m the designated drinker,” Mark added, grinning.
“We’re going to a party?” Travis breathed. “Oh no, Scott, no. I’m not supposed to go to parties, you know that…”
“You’re not supposed to do anything,” Mark replied. “Especially with Bradley hanging around.”
Travis curled up awkwardly at the mention of his mother’s boyfriend. “He’s not that bad,” he whispered.
“Bullshit,” was all Scott said. “This the place?”
Mark pressed his nose against his window. “Yup. This is it. Pull over here, I see a space.”
“Yeah, I see it, Mark, I’m not fucking blind, you know…”
“Scott, I think he meant the other space.”
“Trav, you start telling me how to drive and I will turn this car the fuck around.”
“He was right, man, I mean that space…”
“Shut the fuck up and let me concentrate, you assholes!”
Scott parked next to the sidewalk. Mark lifted a six-pack of beer out of the trunk and led Scott and Travis into the backyard. “Wrong spot,” Mark told Scott as he switched his beer for six shots of tequila.
“Bite me, douche,” Scott answered, glancing around the party. Travis’s arm snaked up and wrapped around Scott’s arm.
Mark saw this sign of anxiety instantly. “Come on, guys, mingle. No one’s gonna hang with you if you just stand there.” He walked off into the throng.
“Do you wanna come to a party?
My friends picked me up in their truck at 11:30
This thing’s at a frat house but people are cool there
Reluctant I followed but I’d never dreamed there
Would be someone there who would catch my attention
I wasn’t out searching for love or affection
So I paid my three and the girls got in free
Shined the beer for tequila and we headed into the party.”
The music sucked. That was the first thing Mark noticed. A ska band was jamming in a corner of the lawn. A bunch of groupies stood around them, shrieking praise.
The next thing Mark noticed was the outrageous amount of college guys. One of them was doing a keg stand as the other brother of Fi Beta Dumbfuck stood around him, cheering him on. Every girl there was a slut, and every guy was an asshole. Mark had been hoping to get some ass, but he was beginning to think he’d rather just masturbate at home instead.
“And then in the backyard some terrible ska band
Someone in the background was doing a keg stand
This place is so lame all these girls look the same
All these guys have no game I wish I would’ve stayed
In my bed back at home watching TV alone
Where I’d put on some porn or have sex on the phone
Far from people I hate down from anywhere state
Trying to intoxicate girls to give them head after the party.”
And that’s when Mark saw her.
She was goddamn beautiful – model tall (probably 6’ 2”), slender, long blonde hair, and gorgeous, lamp-like green eyes. She was all waist and legs in a green mini dress. Mark though she was the kind of girl he’d introduce to him mom and propose to. Or the kind of girl he’d fuck stupid. He wasn’t particular.
“And then I saw her standing there
With green eyes and long blonde hair
She wasn’t wearing underwear at least I prayed that
She might be the one maybe we’d have some fun
Maybe we’d watch the sunrise.”
Mark sidled up to her with two beers in hand. “Hey.” He handed her one. She popped it open with grace and delicate ease before chugging it down in three gulps, then letting rip the most awesome, manly burp Mark had ever heard.
I want to marry this woman, Mark thought in awe.
The girl giggled and grinned, wiping her mouth. “Hi.” She shook Mark’s hand eagerly. “I’m Sharon.”
“Mark,” he replied, stunned senseless by the vision of beauty before him. “I was starting to kinda lose hope in this party before I saw you.”
She blushed. “Aw. How sweet. I know what you mean, though. This is horrible music. I want something to dance to.” And she promptly turned around and shook her cute little ass inches from Mark’s cock.
Mark gulped. She had an ass like Tom’s. “I want something you can dance to, too.”
Sharon looked over her shoulder, eyebrow up. “Huh?”
Mark mentally slapped himself. “I mean, uh, you know…”
She smiled. “No, it’s cool. You think I’m hot.” She leaned in, pressing her boobs together, showing off her impressive cleavage. “I think you’re hot, too.”
Oh, fucking thank you Jesus.
So they talked. For hours. About anything and everything.
And Mark hated her.
He could not get away. Every time he tried, she’d cut him off. All she could do was talk about every guy in every band that she’d fucked, how she did it, how he did it, how they acted after they did it. Her boyfriend was supposedly a roadie for Van Halen or some shit. The bitch was shameless. And it couldn’t be more obvious that she was trying to get into Mark’s pants.
“But that night I learned some girls try too hard
And some girls try too hard to impress
With the way that they dress with those things on their chests
And the things they suggest to me
I couldn’t believe what this lady was saying
The names she was dropping the games she was playing
She dated with guy who now rides for Black Flys
She was down with the wise well-constructed disguise
Well I’d rather go dateless than sit here and hate this
Her volume of makeup her fake tits were tasteless
So I said I’d call her but never would bother
Until I get turned down by another girls at a party.”
“Yeah, and this one time, I was sooo drunk, and I was with this guy..."
Mark silently thanked God when someone on the other side of the yard screamed.
Until, that is, they didn’t stop screaming.
Antony raced over, breathless, pure white. “I swear to fucking God, Mark, we didn’t do shit. I swear…”
“What do you mean?” Mark laughed nervously. His laugh faded when Antony’s lower lip began to tremble. “Dude. What the hell happened?”
Scott appeared over Antony’s shoulder. He was shuddering so hard his shirt was flapping. “Mark, it’s Travis. Something’s wrong.”
“Call an ambulance!” someone screamed. “Call a fucking ambulance!”
Mark’s stomach dropped at the same time that vomit climbed up to his throat. He shoved through the crowd like a madman, throwing screaming, drunken girls and dumbstruck guys out of his way. The crowd of rubberneckers parted to reveal Travis on all fours in the grass, his eyes squeezed shut in obvious agony, clutching at his chest. His breaths were growing nerve-wrackingly shallow, and his whole body was trembling.
“Shit.” That was all Mark could say. He wanted to go to Travis and rub his back, hold him, talk to him… But he was too frightened of hurting him to move. So there Mark stayed, rooted to the spot, staring as the EMTs strapped Travis to a strecher and wheeled him into the ambulance, Scott following along, gripping Travis’s thin hand. All Mark could do was stand and watch as two of his best friends rode off to the hospital, everything in the future horribly, horribly unclear.
Author's Note: It's a little longer than the other posts, but that's probably a good thing.
(The lyrics are to "Party Song" on blink_182's Enema of the State CD. As much as I wish I owned it, I don't. (It's a good song, check it out.))
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