July 1st, 2006 (07:32 pm)
I'm Feeling...: amused
I'm Listening To: Dance, Dance || Fall Out Boy
Title:Accidents Aren't Always a Bad Thing...
Author: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
killthemoonkeys
Pairing:Tom/Mark
Rating:PG-13
Genre: Romance
Disclaimer: This idea was given to me from My_Blinkrokr, and is written for her by request. I own nothing, this never happened. Neil Patrick Harris just stole my car. Hey - NPH wouldn’t do that.
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Accidents Aren’t Always a Bad Thing…
“Prologue - Part One”
~*~
Tom DeLonge had his heart broken by his ex-girlfriend. But once she finds out that his band has become quite wealthy, she will do anything to get him back. Now all Tom wants to do is keep her away.
So what happens when he convinces Mark Hoppus to “pretend” to be gay with him, just to keep Jen away?
An accident.
But they aren’t always a bad thing…
~*~
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
|| February 14, 1994 ||
“Hold this, you fucker!” I smirk at Mark, forcing a bouquet of red roses and a tiny silver box into his arms.
“Tom, how many times are you going to mess with that damn tie?” he asks in a bored tone as he leans against the postered wall of my bedroom. “This has to be at least the fifty millionth time.”
“Come on dude, back off. You know how much this means to me,” I reply, still smiling as I gaze at myself in the mirror.
DAMN I look retarded in a suit.
Tonight I am planning on asking my semi-long-time girlfriend, Jen, to marry me. I figured Valentine’s Day would suit the occasion. Sure, I’m only eighteen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what love is. I have the whole thing planned out, too; I meet her at her house at nine o’clock and take her out to eat at this super fancy restaurant down by the beach and ask her to marry me.
Simple enough in my opinion.
Mark, on the other hand, disagrees. I told him my news this morning and asked him to let me borrow his suit. And ever since he came over, all he’s been saying is how I’m making the wrong choice, how I’m too young, blah blah blah. He thinks that just because he’s 21, he knows everything. Well he doesn’t. That douche. I know what I’m doing. Jen loves me; of course she’ll agree!
“Yeah, you’ve told me about a hundred times in the last hour,” Mark says.
“Why aren’t you happy for me?” I ask him, turning to face him and pointing at my newly adjusted tie.
I see a tiny smirk form on Mark’s lips. “You did it completely wrong again,” he says, setting the items in his arms on my bed and stepping over to me to fix my tie. “And it’s because of every reason I’ve told you today,” he answers while his eyes focus on the tie that he is currently undoing.
“We’ve been going out for like a year and a half now.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s wrong with that!?”
“Because, she’s the first serious girlfriend that you’ve ever had,” Mark says, finishing up tying my tie correctly. “How do you know that there aren’t other girls that you’d want to marry?”
“Because I want to marry Jen,” I say stubbornly.
“Whatever. It’s your choice, I can’t make up your mind for you,” Mark defeats himself as he hands me the roses and the box with a smile.
“Aren’t you at least a little happy for me?” I ask him.
“Yeah I’m happy for you, dude. I just don’t want you to get your heart broken by some girl.”
“Aww, how sweet of you Marky,” I joke, pinching his cheek and smirking.
He laughs lightly while slapping my hand away. “You look freaking retarded in a suit, by the way.”
“It’s your suit, Mark.”
“I know, but it looks good on me!” he says, then adds while rubbing his nipples, “I look sexy in everything.”
I laugh at him. “Markus, are you trying to seduce me?”
“What time did you say you were gonna pick up Jen?” he asks, completely ignoring what he just did.
“Nine o’clock.”
~*~
6:05… 6:32… 6:41… 6:50… 6:53… 6:54… 6:55… 6:55… 6:55…
“Will you stop fidgeting?” Mark says from his spot on the lounge chair in front of the TV as he watches me cross and re-cross my feet multiple times. “And don’t look at the clock every two seconds.”
“I can’t not do it!” I say, bouncing my knees up and down in nervous habit. “I can’t take this waiting! This sucks! I’m so nervous! Why am I so nervous!? I never get nervous! Do you ever get ner-”
“TOM!”
“WHAT!?”
“Do you wanna just go now?”
“Think she’ll mind?”
“Nah, she’s probably waiting for you anyway,” Mark says.
“All right, let’s go then,” I smirk, jumping up from my couch and grabbing my car keys from the end table.
Mark and I head outside to my car and get in, me in the driver’s seat and him in the passenger’s.
“Damn, shit, fuck, cock, ass, dick, piss… poop,” I say, staring straight ahead through the windshield with my hands resting on the steering wheel.
Mark stares at me from the passenger’s seat. “…You okay?” he asks as I start the car and begin driving towards my destination.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I reply in a breathy voice. “I’m just nervous.”
“You are just losing your manly-ness right in front of me, aren’t you?”
“No. A man can be nervous, Mark.”
“Not if their name is Tom.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I read it somewhere. It said all men named ‘Tom’ would be more feminine than most men. It was some kind of horoscope thing. I’m not a Libra, did you know that?”
“Mark, you aren’t helping very much.”
“Well how about this. Okay, one time my family took a vacation down to like… I don’t remember, but anyway-”
Mark proceeded to tell me all about his family’s trip down to somewhere he couldn’t remember and how he got poison ivy in his ass because he wiped himself with a poison ivy leaf like an idiot. This continued for the next 15 minutes that it took to get to Jen’s house. I was only half listening; this is the most nervous I’ve ever been in my life.
“Okay, Mark. You can stop now,” my voice quivers as I smirk timidly at him.
“-and every time I wiped, there would be not only brown, but yellowish stuff too. And then when I-”
“Mark!” I shout. He looks at me with a confused face, obviously oblivious to what I had just said. “We’re here.”
“Oh,” he says plainly as he mimics me and opens the car door to step onto the front lawn of Jennifer Jenkin’s house.
“This is it,” I say to both Mark and myself as I gaze upon Jen’s house, taking a deep breath and running my hands over the suit to make sure there were no wrinkles. “Time to go… propose.”
That sounds so odd coming from me…
Mark and I walk up to the front porch and I knock on the door. No answer. I knock again. And again. And again. Still no answer.
Mark looks at me and I at him. “Should I be worried?” I ask him, growing more nervous than I was before.
“I don’t think so,” he replies. “Maybe we should just go in.”
“All right,” I agree and I open the door and step inside, leaving it open for Mark. “Jen?” I call out, that quiver again in my voice. “Hello?”
“Maybe she’s getting ready?” Mark offers his suggestion, looking around at the house. It’s strangely dark in here… There aren’t many lights on.
He and I cautiously make our ways up the stairs and down the hallway to Jen’s… closed… bedroom door. Again an exchange of glances.
Why would the door…?
I open it, and immediately regret doing so.
Jen, on top of some guy - neither clothed - laying in a tangled mess on her bed.
Well there’s a thousand promises shot to Hell…
[end]
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Thanks for reading!
I’d appreciate any reviews, good or bad.
If you have any suggestions or requests, feel free to tell me.
~*~
Next Chapter:
“Prologue - Part Two”
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