a fish called sid joint

Chap. 4.

|an| hey hey all. Arabian Nightmare: Yup, I used to write in the bands section-mostly Green Day, but I did one blink fic, too, and one Sum41. Check my fave stories in my profile for some good slash, and their authors have all written tons of good slash. For Chris Contrary.

|Sometimes when I just can't sleep I hear the words you said to me: How did you get so deep inside of me? -The Bouncing Souls|


After knocking three times on Johnny's front door, Syd let himself in. Something was up, he knew it-he could always tell with John. Syd had come home to work and seen on his Caller ID that John had called three times without leaving a message. Syd knew this wasn't good. He immediately headed up to John's room as soon as he was in the house.


John felt the vibrations of approaching footsteps shudder through the floorboards. He could tell it was Syd, from the way he walked-Syd's footsteps were always light and quick. John curled himself into a smaller ball and inched back into the corner of his bed, pushing his cigarette back into his mouth. He'd been sitting in the dark room for about two hours, doing nothing but chain smoking and sulking. He felt like crap and looked like crap-his eyes were dark and sunken, he paler then usual, and he was so cold his small frame shivered.

The door opened and Syd walked in. He saw John in the corner of his bed instantly, and slid up next to him. John felt him drop his bag on the floor and strong arms wrap around his thin waist, trying to subdue the shivers. He felt Syd's lips moving against his neck, forming words, but he couldn't make out what they were. He could guess he was probably something comforting, and questioning what had happened to John. Johnny interrupted Syd and told him about Michael's pass at him. He wanted to admit it and get it over with. Syd maneuvered his head so John could see his lips.

"Why'd that upset you?" John read.

John shook his head. " I dunno. It...confused me, maybe. I didn't get why. I'm just the skinny, deaf, queer kid. There's nothing amazing about me, I just sit in the corner and do my stupid deaf-kid thing. And, I dunno, I guess I just simply didn't want him too."

Syd nodded and pulled John down to lay next to him. Without a word, he started rubbing John's hands, working warmth into them, then moved to his arms, chest, cheeks, legs, feet. John folded himself into him, thinking. He wanted to know what Syd's voice sounded like. Not just digitally reproduced through a hearing aid-that was fake sound, like the automated Mr. Moviefone. He wanted to know what Syd really sounded like. For the first time in his life he felt bad for himself, he wanted to be like everyone else, he wanted to hear those whispered little things Syd had spoken into his neck. He wanted to hear Syd speak to him, and you know, what he wanted to hear him say wasn't all that original-"I love you".

John felt Syd slip his hand into his, and fingerspelled words to him. Things that John knew he would say, he knew Syd so well. "It'll all roll over", "He doesn't deserve you", and "I'll beat the shit out of him". It was comforting to feel his friends hands working in his. He let Syd's fingers do the talking for a while, and finally he spelled back:

-Will you do me a favor?

-Anything, was Syd's reply.

- I want you to shave my head.


-Because something needs to go.


Five minutes later, John had grabbed his brother's clippers from the bathroom, and he was sitting on the bed as Syd kneeled above him, surveying his head like he;d done it a million times before. Syd didn't understand why John was doing it, but did understand that feeling of having to get rid of something. And besides, anything for John.

Syd turned the buzzer on, and ran his hands through John's hair, feeling them fall away in his hands. John's scalp tingled as the clippers ate away at his hair, and closed his eyes and sighed at the feeling of his friend's hands running through his hair. When it was over, John looked up at Syd standing over him, and asked "Do I look like a famine victim?"

Syd just shook his head and ran a hand over John's silky scalp, smiling. "You look great," he mouthed. John rolled his eyes and tackled him, wrestling him to the ground. They rolled over and over on the grubby carpet until Syd finally pinned John down. He smiled and kissed John's forehead, finger spelling into John's hand, "Someone loves you, Johnny Boy." John just kissed Syd's forehead back, then worked his way down his nose until he reached his lips.

And it hit John. For the first time, he knew how something really sounded. He was certain. He understood exactly how Syd's voice sounded.

It sounded the way he felt.


|an| no, that's not the end. There's one more chapter. You know you wanna put this on your favorites.