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Published:
2015-01-04
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2015-01-12
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3/?
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Do U Even Club?

Summary:

A collection of drabbles about the crack pairing of Aiden Pearce and Defalt.

Notes:

My laptop is busted so I'm writing on my tablet. And my tablet insists that Aiden should be Maiden instead. So if there are spelling errors I'm sorry. I'll fix this shit up when I get my laptop back. Enjoy ^^
Also, every chapter will be named after a Deadmau5 song, since Default is heavily inspired by the guy.
*Is totally not listening to Deadmau5 while writing this anyway shut up*

Chapter 1: Where is Here

Chapter Text

Aiden falls into the bed with a weary sigh and a throbbing headache. The room is in darkness. There's a street light outside casting it's orange glow but their flat is too high up to be affected.
He can feel JB beside him, breathing slowly, dark hair contrasting sharply with the white pillow covers. He's started to grow some stubble, Aiden notices. But he'll probably shave it off tomorrow. Though he says that he loves Aiden's facial hair, he hates it on himself.

Aiden toes off his shoes and JB turns over onto his back with a short, almost silent grunt. He constantly moves around in his sleep. Even when unconscious he can't stand to be still for too long. Aiden apparently just lies there, unmoving and very quiet and he scares this shit out of JB who genuinely believes that Aiden has died in his sleep.

Outside he hears the night life of Chicago. Someone is angrily screaming drunkenly at someone else and there are sirens going off somewhere. They should move. Go some place quiet.

"We could go to Warsaw" JB had said one day. "When my parents died they left my brother and I the house. Well, I own it now, myself," and JB went really quiet. He usually does when his brother pops up in conversation. Even after ten years, JB is still haunted by it. It still hurts him and Aiden can identify with that pain so well, but he can't help JB with it. He's the worst person to help JB. He's probably the worst person for JB full stop. He probably shouldn't be here full stop.

As if he can hear his thoughts, JB's eyes are open, and his arm immediately throws itself over Aiden's scarred and slightly hairy chest.

"I made you a song today," he slurs.

"Oh yeah?" And Aiden can't help but smile. "What's it like?"

"It's about us. Our fucked up relationship. And how awesome it is. And the title is beautiful."

"What's the title?"

"I Wish I Could Club."

Aiden breathes a laugh into JB's hair as the younger man rests his cheek against his chest and Aiden's chin rests on the soft but shaggy black locks of hair.

"It's going to be in my new album. It's called The Story of Aiden Pearce. It will make people cry because it is so sad but so beautiful."

"You're such a bastard." Aiden yawns.

"Yes, but I'm your bastard."

Aiden smiles tiredly and kisses the top of JB's head while the DJ fixes the duvet.

"And you're my little failure of a clubber."

"I love you too."

Chapter 2: Bleed

Summary:

Default can't handle his feels. And my summaries leave little to be desired.

Notes:

I want to start by thanking DarkestHeir and Fragilister for being the nicest and most amazing people toward me and for writing adorable and wonderful things.
And then I ruined it all with sadness.
You're welcome.
Also, the title has something to do with the story, wow.
Told through Aiden's POV.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

If looks could kill. 

He's glaring at me from the other corner of the room. He hasn't said a word to me since we arrived home from the hospital. I suppose I deserve this. I never even told him that I was there. I was hoping, stupidly, that he'd never find out. But Jay has his ways. So when I saw his car parked outside I shouldn't have been surprised and I should've known that he'd be furious. 

Jay's not an idiot, despite what a lot of people believe. He knows that my being the Vigilante will mean that I'll be put in harms way. But I nearly died a few nights ago. And that must scare him completely. 

"Jay?" I say quietly. 

His eyes shine like the pricks of needles in the dim of the room and I'm just waiting for him to start screaming at me. It must be coming soon. 

"Aiden," he responds in a cool tone. Despite how calm he sounds, I flinch. 

"Jay, you have to know-"

"That my boyfriend is a lying, rotten piece of shit?" He says quietly, still so calm. "I gathered."

"I didn't want you to worry."

"Well that backfired because I worried regardless. I honest to God thought that you'd died and..." 

And he can't continue. Jay has to get up from the couch and pace around the floor for a bit, taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. He's probably going to punch me in a minute for making him freak out so badly. Now he stops, back facing me, and he crosses his arms before turning on his heel to look at me again. His eyes are all red and puffy and are far too bright. He's been crying. I made him cry. It feels like there's a squirming knot of worms inside me and I fidget in my seat, the sharp stab of pain in my chest protesting against the motion. 

"I need to know that you're okay, Aiden," he says, voice cracking with the grief. 

I swallow down the lump in my throat. 

"Jay, I'm so sorry. It won't happen again," I croak. 

"No. It won't. God forbid, if this happens again, Aiden, I'll..." 

He shakes his head as a new tear falls and I'm up on my feet, striding over to hold him. He trembles and hits me with feeble punches before settling and letting me hug him. 

"I'll make you sorry, you fucking bastard," he mumbles against my chest.

"I am sorry." 

"Fuck off with that and just go to bed or something." He rubs his eyes, glances at my chest as we part. 

"Do your bandages need changing?" He asks. 

"In a little while, yeah."

"Right, I'll be in to help you with that in a minute. Go rest for now. And don't think you're off the hook because I'm still pissed." 

And I do what he says because I don't want to make him more mad. We've both suffered enough. 

Notes:

Aiden was shot by the way, I don't think I made that clear enough and I'm too tired to edit. I'm a scumbag.

Chapter 3: The Veldt

Summary:

A female Aiden Pearce and Defalt have a son.

Daddy!Defalt ahoy.

Notes:

The past few days have been seriously shitty for me and then while sitting on a bus this idea occurred to me and I had to write it. I am not sorry.

Also should I change the tags since Aiden is female in this chapter?

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

I'm five today. Yesterday I was four, but then I went to sleep in the night time and now I'm five, as quick as clicking your fingers. My daddy does that a lot. Clicks his fingers like it's nothing, but I try and this dull sound comes out and my thumb ends up hurting. Daddy does a lot of things that I can't do. There are some that I'm not even allowed to try, like sucking on the white stick that gets hot and orange on the end. It smells really bad though and makes my stomach and chest hurt when I smell it so Daddy only does it outside on the balcony, away from me. But he sits on one of our kitchen chairs and it's turned so he can still see inside and check that I'm okay. But I'm five so he doesn't need to do that anymore. I'm too old for that. 

I say it so, and Daddy just smiles a little. He never smiles properly now, though he does in the pictures. His mouth just does this small turn for a second and then it's gone. 

"Is that so, little man?" He says. 

"It's so," I nod. "I'm big now." 

"That you are," and he ruffles my hair. 

Our apartment isn't very big, but it's big enough for us and for Daddy's set. He works on it almost every day. He doesn't on Saturdays, because that's our day, where we either go out somewhere or stay indoors and watch movies or something. We have to have Saturday days because I'm in school mostly and he works during the night times. He plays music for large groups of people and they dance. It sounds like fun but I'm not allowed go because I'm too little, he says. But maybe this year I can, because I'm five. 

"Ile masz lat?" he says. 

I blink before it comes to me. "Mam pięć lat." And I smile wide because it's right. Daddy's from a place called Poland. We go there for the summer every year, staying in a house where he lived when he was little like me. That's where more of the pictures are. Ones where he's with my grandparents, others where he's with a big brother who had an accident before I was born but none where he's with Mommy. Because he didn't know Mommy then, only until much later. 

"Do you remember being my age?" I ask. 

Daddy does a big stretch. Some bones crack in his back and I go "Ewww" and he laughs a little. 

"I used to go on a bus for school," he says and my eyes widen a little because I'm not allowed to go on a bus to school. Daddy walks me there instead, even when he's had no sleep and he's all red eyed and white. He doesn't like leaving me alone. He says I could get hurt if I'm alone. So I have a minder for when he's at work and for when he's just so tired that he can't stay awake and he falls into bed, still with his clothes and shoes on. 

"And I used to have a little pet rat." 

"Did it die?" 

"She got very old, yeah." 

"Are you very old?" and I make Daddy laugh again. 

"Does thirty seem old to you, Ollie?" he asks. 

"Yeah." 

"Might as-well retire then. Stay in a home." 

"Away from me?" I say in horror. 

"Wouldn't you like the place to yourself?" 

"But I'd miss you. Would you miss me?" 

And there's a sad look in Daddy's eye. We've been sitting on the couch, me on one end, him on the other, watching cartoons on the TV. But he scoots towards me so he can pull me onto his lap and hug me close. He smells of his man scent, the cologne, that smells like oak and cinnamon, and he's really warm. 

"Of course I'd miss you, you're my little man," he says and kisses my head. I think he's more sad than usual because usually he'd just be like; "Duh" and flick my forehead with his fingers because asking if he'd miss me is a silly question. He loves me. He says so a lot, usually when he thinks I'm sad. Or sometimes when he's really sad. 

Bugs Bunny comes on the TV but I can't really focus on him. There's a knot in my tummy and I squirm so Daddy lets me go. We still sit next to each other though, no longer on opposite ends of the couch. I rest my head against him and I hear his heart go thump, thump in his chest. I wonder if I can ask him now. When I do he usually gets kind of mad. It's just a subject, but not like a school subject, that he gets really weird over. Weird as in he could be so happy one minute, and then when I ask about it, he gets really upset and gives out to me a little. 

But I'm five so I have to be brave. I take a deep breath. 

"Where's Mommy?" I ask. 

I feel Daddy still a little, almost like a statue. He doesn't say anything for awhile, he just sits there and I feel him thinking in his head. Finally he lets out a long breath and his hand, which used to be on top of the sofa, now falls on my shoulder. 

"Oliver, I know it's hard for you, seeing your friends with their mommies and wondering why yours isn't around. But let's make this clear," and he stands up to kneel in front of me, frowning slightly, "Your mommy does love you. She said so herself, you're her best little boy. But she's just not able to be around." 

"Why not?" I whine. 

Daddy sighs, like he's tired but his eyes aren't red. "You know how I don't let you go places on your own because I want you to be safe?" 

"Yeah?" 

"This is kinda like that. She wants you to be safe, so she has to stay away." 

"I don't get it," I mumble and Daddy's shoulders sink. 

"I know you don't. But hopefully, when you're bigger than five, you will." We sit in silence for a moment before Daddy lightly claps my shoulder and smiles, wider this time. "Let's get your birthday dinner together then, yeah? I got your favourite pizza." 

That perks me up a little and I trail after him into the kitchen. I stop at the doorway though, because on the little coffee table between the door and the couch there's a photo frame of my Mommy and Daddy at some point after they met. He's in his bright blue rat mask that I'm not to touch ever because it's fragile, and she's in a sweater and jeans with her long dark brown hair scooped up into a ponytail. They're at one of Daddy's dances, his arm hung around her shoulder, her smiling widely, showing white teeth. And though Daddy calls me I still don't move, because I keep thinking; 

"Where's Mommy?" 

 

 

 

Notes:

Ile masz lat? - How old are you?
Mam pięć lat - I'm five years old.

Also if I were to make a series of this, who would read it or be interested in it?