Awesome Fanfictions

It's Over Isn't It? (TehFawkes)(TehChaos)(GaLty)

I think someone wanted some TehFawkes but I can't recall who, but if they see this, this is for you!  I also took the liberty to throw in a few ships (Mostly just Smarty-centric)

John smiled warmly for Tom at the man's wedding. Smiled, hugged him and his wife with congratulations on his tongue.  

Of course, he had all of his mourns. He stood with Tom in a few pictures, being Tom's best man and all, but all his mind was occupied by wasn't thoughts of the newlyweds. It was of lazy nights pressed against his friend, bodies flush and taut. Loose lips and messy kisses.  Of bright mornings with tangled limbs and sweet kisses. Of coffee tinged tongues and drowsy smiles. 

When he did his speech as best man, his words were not hollow, but rather, his chest was. He wanted to fill it with the words he spoke, words that made his audience tear up a bit, but he knew the only thing that had been able to fill the hole in his soul was already taken by someone else. Someone who deserved it more than he? Perhaps. 

When he sat down at a table to allow Tom to say what he needed, his gaze was on Tom respectfully, like everyone else. But his mind was flooded with their languid hours spent in peaceful quiet, fingers laced together. Sweat cooling on heated skin. Kiss swollen and teeth abused lips. 

When he followed the surge of people to the food tables, he thought of their bake days. Hands covered in flour and hair dusted in it after a lighthearted squabble when making brownies. Buttery fingers between damp lips as the credits to a Star Wars movie rolled. Peppermints and ice cubes exchanged between their mouths.  

When Anthony drags him to the mini bar for a few drinks he doesn't protest. 

He doesn't protest when Anthony beds him, either.

He fills his mind with Anthony's eyes, which fall shut when his jaw drops slightly in concentration. He fills his head with the filthy words that Anthony purrs in his ear while he shakes apart under the male's hands and tongue. He fills his chest with the reverent way Anthony worships his body, the sweet kisses that Anthony drips over him like molasses in their afterglow. He fills the gap that Tom left in him with the solid shape of Anthony's body. 

And then after a few weeks, Anthony's moved on. He leaves John standing in the rain right back with a hole in his chest and a quiet mind. He watches Anthony kiss the girl inside the coffee shop, uncaring of how the rain soaks through his hoodie, the hoodie that Anthony bought him. He walked home in silence, the rain pattering down around him. His fingers were blue when he got home, and he stripped down before getting in the bath. He stares at them when he sinks into the hot water. His eyes see the bluish tinge fade, his mind sees Anthony's fingers intertwined with his own. 

Smoking has never helped John cope. But the pain in his chest, or the pain that should be there but is vacant, is too overwhelming. He dresses better, this time, puts gloves on, and heads for the nearest gas station. His earbuds soothe him with his familiar playlist of songs, but his mind persistently plays a loop of Anthony cooing praise and sinful little things in his ears amongst the music. 

The cashier keeps looking at him as he buys a bag of chips and a pack of cigarettes. Looks at him when he tosses a recyclable lighter on the counter as well. Nametag: Anthony. John doesn't show any reaction on the outside. His mind helpfully inserts The Other One murmuring reverences to him in darkened rooms. Anthony (The New One) talks, and it shatters whatever echoes lurked in his mind. 

He tries not to think too much about how his mind is suddenly quieted, and lights up a cigarette outside the gas station, under the cover of the overhang. There's some clattering, and then Anthony is coming out, a jacket pulled over his shirt.  

John fills his mind with Anthony-- the new one--'s brown eyes. His kind smile. His laugh. Fills his chest with Anthony's arms around his waist and his lips on his own. Fills the holes left by Tom and the Other One with the solid promises that Anthony murmurs against his lips. 

Promises that hold true, years later, when the ring on John's hand banishes any active thoughts of anyone but Anthony. 

Though, on some days, John remembers blond hair and cheerful eyes and the smell of brownies and coffee. Others he remembers a sharp smirk and clever hands and dirty sacrileges. 

On all the others he is reminded of soft smiles and softer kisses and the smell of home.