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fan_flashworks2019-03-20 05:45 pm
caveat_lector) wrote in fan_flashworks2019-03-20 05:45 pm
Entry tags:
The Libertines: Fic: Waiting in the Wings
Title: Waiting in the Wings
Fandom: The Libertines
Characters: Carl Barât, Peter Doherty
Rating: General
Length: 200
Notes: Also for 'customs' on my bingo card. Standalone in an AU where there was no big split, Peter and Carl just had a 20 year on/off relationship full of childish squabbles.
Content notes: None
It's been weeks this time.
"I'm working." Not like you, you lazy fuck, Carl hears. The old, old argument. It's been two decades and still Peter doesn't see the value in socialising. Still doesn't think they need anyone but each other, when it comes down to it.
He's been at every show Peter's played this week, just watching from the side of the stage. Petting the dogs, chatting to the crew, such as it is. He'll be at all the ones he's playing next week if he has to, until Peter decides he's done penance enough.
Or maybe until Carl throws his hands up in frustration and leaves, and Peter comes running after him. Grabs him, holds his face, kisses him all over it until Carl cracks a smile, and everything is okay again.
Show time now, and Peter's there. The crowd roars and Peter peers at them, hand shielding his eyes as if he's looking at each and every one of them. He's not.
"I brought a spare guitar," he says, with a wicked little grin. "Anyone want to play it?"
Carl steps out of the darkness, and hopes all those waving hands aren't going to be too disappointed.
Fandom: The Libertines
Characters: Carl Barât, Peter Doherty
Rating: General
Length: 200
Notes: Also for 'customs' on my bingo card. Standalone in an AU where there was no big split, Peter and Carl just had a 20 year on/off relationship full of childish squabbles.
Content notes: None
It's been weeks this time.
"I'm working." Not like you, you lazy fuck, Carl hears. The old, old argument. It's been two decades and still Peter doesn't see the value in socialising. Still doesn't think they need anyone but each other, when it comes down to it.
He's been at every show Peter's played this week, just watching from the side of the stage. Petting the dogs, chatting to the crew, such as it is. He'll be at all the ones he's playing next week if he has to, until Peter decides he's done penance enough.
Or maybe until Carl throws his hands up in frustration and leaves, and Peter comes running after him. Grabs him, holds his face, kisses him all over it until Carl cracks a smile, and everything is okay again.
Show time now, and Peter's there. The crowd roars and Peter peers at them, hand shielding his eyes as if he's looking at each and every one of them. He's not.
"I brought a spare guitar," he says, with a wicked little grin. "Anyone want to play it?"
Carl steps out of the darkness, and hopes all those waving hands aren't going to be too disappointed.