intheirgraves

Behave little boy, you better sit back down 'til you hold your ground. It's your turn to learn to fight, you better sit back down 'til you hold your ground.

James was sitting on his bed, legs crossed Indian style with his calculus book cradled in his lap. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail but a few strands fell in his face, even though it didn't distract him. He was working over a problem, chewing on his split lip as he worked it over in his mind, tapping the edge of the book idly as he hummed softly under his breath - it was one of the only ways he could keep his sanity. He couldn't stand silence.

He looked up when his dorm room door cracked open, and he blinked when Coby stumbled in, bracing himself on the desk by the door to stop himself from dropping right to the floor. His brows furrowed and he abandoned his work, getting up and walking over to his best friend, putting a hand on his forearm.

"Coby? What's wrong?" he asked in a soft voice, raising his brows when Coby's hazed blue eyes met him. It... looked like he'd been crying - he also looked incredibly, incredibly drunk - shitfaced, even. James frowned a little and led the other man over to his bed. "Are you drunk?"

"Yes, yes I am," Coby slurred, collapsing onto James' bed and sighing out heavily, shutting his eyes and reclining back on the mattress, stretching himself out.

"Why?" James asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face as he frowned deeply, watching his best friend closely. He was immediately worried, and the frown on his full lips was enough testament to that, but the deep hazel of his eyes was another hint.

Coby sighed out heavily, opening his mouth and once he did, there was no stopping the verbal vomit that came out. "It's easier when I'm drunk. Easier to watch the way Adam's eyes lock up when I try to figure out what the fuck's wrong with him. When he doesn't tell me what's wrong, it makes me feel like I did something wrong and I'd like to fucking know if I did something wrong. But no, he gets fuckin' angry at me and holes himself up. He thinks I don't notice these things - I mean, yeah, I've only just started noticing them, but since I have it's like a neon sign is staring me in the fucking face. I dunno why he's shutting me out - it hurts, y'know? Makes me feel inadequate, like something's wrong with me to make him shut me out like that."

"Coby..." James' voice was low, concerned, and Coby looked over at him, nailing him with an icy stare before he relaxed, swallowing hard and sighing out heavily, staring at the ceiling. It was swaying slightly but not enough for him. He blinked a couple times and tried to get up, only to find James' hand on his chest. He looked at it, then to his friend, frowning a little. "Don't. Did you two get into a fight or something?"

"No, but it's only a matter'a time," Coby sighed, collapsing back on the bed and frowning deeply, his head falling back as his lids shut over his ice-blue eyes. He licked over his lips and shifted slightly. "It's always about sex or whatever, and I mean, yeah, that's great, but I dunno - doesn't feel like he trusts me, and isn't that the first thing in a relationship? Trust?"

"Yeah," James murmured, sighing and putting his hand on his best friend's knee. "Have you tried talking to him about this?" When all Coby did was scoff, James raised his eyebrows, taking that as a huge, resounding 'no'. "Are you going to?" Coby nodded without opening his eyes, and James sighed again. Why was everyone having such trouble? It must have been the stress of finals.

Try it, you'll like it, don't hide it, don't fight it, just let it out.

Brian wasn't sure why he was even studying for his fucking finals. He was going to fail them anyway. He sat frustrated on his front porch, staring down at a page of statistics problems. He pulled out his lighter and flicked it open, lighting the paper. He watched as the wind made the small flame into an inferno before it ate up the paper so much Brian had to drop it to the ground and step on it so it wouldn't burn him.

He sighed and stared at the ashes in front of him, fisting his hair with an inaudible groan, shaking his head. He couldn't concentrate for shit right now and he hated it. He hated that his mind was elsewhere, on his best friend of all people. He wondered why he was thinking so much of him even after their little incident the night before. He was still hungover from that and he only remembered fractions, but the fractions he did remember freaked the shit out of him.

He needed to quit playing this game and figure out what the fuck was going on in his head. Not just for his sake, for his best friend, too. He figured the guy was up at the college and he knew he should have been too, but he couldn't bring himself to be around anyone right now. He'd end up ripping them a new one without even thinking about it.

If I told you the truth now would you still leave and take my heart?

Finals had been hell. James had been starting to wonder if he'd taken on too much by taking six upper-level classes, but he knew somewhere that he could get through them. He'd been steeped in school work every single day for the past two weeks, though. If it wasn't a term paper on biochemistry, it was a twenty page short story incorporating a specific historical event into the story-writing. He was handling it surprisingly well, though.

He had some time to himself, now, though. He'd just dropped by the cafe and talked to Trevor for a few minutes before he got his vanilla latte and he was walking around the campus. His hands were curled around the paper cup like it was his one and only savior, even though it was almost gone and the warmth had faded. He couldn't help but cling to it, even though there were maybe two sips left in the bottom of it.

He had his messenger bag hooked over his shoulder as always, but it was rather light. He'd done his heavy studying so it was just a couple of composition books - one for writing the historical story and the other for his lyrics. They struck him at the strangest times. He also had his calculus book in there, nestled between them, but that book wasn't really all that heavy to him. It would have been to any normal student, though.

He wasn't paying too much attention to where he was walking because he was working his mind around a particularly tough calculus problem - his mind was always on school no matter what it seemed. His lashes were low over his eyes even though he had a pair of sunglasses over his eyes as well. He was just hoping he didn't knock into anyone, but normally when he thought things like that, it normally happened. He wasn't unused to that kind of thing.

Don't take your aggression out on me.

"So, Haner, I hear you've got a human pet." Matt's voice was smooth, slick, and Brian gritted his teeth to stop from hurling his body at the bastard and slamming him to the ground in a heap. They were going to his house for some reconnoitering since he had the best technology, and Matt had thrown an absolute fit when he'd found that Brian was doing some recon himself without the guy present.

"What business is it of yours?" he was able to bite out through clenched teeth, dark eyes flashing dangerously. The cocky vampire that he was, Matt just laughed at him, golden eyes gleaming brightly, maliciously. It made Brian's skin grow tight and his entire body bristle. He hated that expression.

"I just want to meet him, that's all. See if he's as great as you think he is." Matt muscled his way past Brian and walked up the walkway to Brian's well-wired house. Unfortunately, his leader knew the password - had to for safety protocol - and Brian still hated that the bastard could get into his private quarters without so much as batting an eyelash.

"Hold on, Sanders," Brian growled, grabbing Matt by his arm, stilling him before he could open the door and go inside. Their eyes slammed together, and the air around Brian got colder instantly, eyes gravely serious. "You listen, and listen good. You lay a fuckin' hand on him, I will fuckin' kill you, brother or no brother. I'm talkin' 'rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground' kill you. You feel me?"

"All right, man. Christ," Matt replied in a flippant tone, lifting his eyebrows though he had a tight smirk on his lips, barely enough to dip his hated dimples into his cheeks. Brian knew his brother hated the dimples more than anything, and the thought made him laugh. James was behind them, silent as always around their leader. He kept his hatred behind his teeth unlike Brian.

Brian forced his way past Matt and slid into the house, glancing around and doing a mental check of everything as Matt's heavy footfalls, and then James' lighter, more elegant footsteps followed him. His mind searched the place for his lover. He knew he was around somewhere. He didn't even call out for him as he shut the door behind James. The two shared a meaningful glance before they both glanced to Matt, who had a smug look on his face as he looked around the small house, the three of them dwarfing it even more with their size.

In a world without sound, you're my light.

Brian liked watching the world, because he couldn't hear it. He liked, for lack of a better term, having his entire body on mute. He liked it. Sometimes it got a little deafening - ironically, of course, but he was pretty happy with how he was. There were some times, though, when he'd wish to hear just to fit in. Those times weren't very often, though, so he didn't think much on it.

He was standing outside of his work - he worked receiving at a bookstore. He was in the back, doing grunt work, so no one had to worry about communicating with a Deaf man. He was strong, good and didn't really cause any trouble, so he figured they liked that about him. Rather, somewhere he hoped they did.

He stepped out and started walking along the street, hands at his sides. He never, ever put his hands into his pockets because he liked having his hands at the ready. He hit his shoulder against someone else's and his eyes shot up. The woman was trying to talk to him, and he gave a slightly lopsided smile, motioning that he couldn't hear. The pity on her face was sickening - he couldn't stand people who thought he needed to be fixed.

He gave an awkward nod and moved away, turning away from the woman and dismissing her at the same time. In the process of getting away from her, he smacked his shoulder into someone else, the force obviously male considering it knocked him back a couple steps but he managed not to fall, only stumble. Again, his eyes flew up to see who he'd hit, dark eyes hidden behind darker sunglasses.

Sheer Pandemonium turned PSL (Brian Haner/Jimmy Sullivan - Celeb)

I need to breathe you in.

It had been nine months of whirlwind touring since the Avenged Sevenfold tour broke away from collective group tours. They'd grown up a lot in those months between tours, as well. They'd gone on tour with Buckcherry, Saving Abel, Black Tide, Operator and a handful of others, and they had been stronger than ever when they were strong, but had hit their bumps in the road with Matt straining his vocal chords. Which, for the record, Brian called him an idiot for. They'd had to cancel a full month of touring, but if it got them in better shape again, that was fine. Matt was sounding a little rough at the British festivals anyway.

Now, though, they were poised to take over Japan, like they always did. Brian was always extremely excited about these countries because they all knew who they were by word of mouth instead of by songs on the radio. They knew Avenged Sevenfold by way of themselves. That... that was dedication. Brian admired fans who did that, and that was why they kept hitting Japan and South America, to show their love.

Their first show had been slow to start, but by the third night, they were dominating as they always did. Matt's voice was more or less back to normal, and Brian and Jimmy were playing off each other like everyone knew they were famous for. They weren't 'best friends' for nothing, but 'best friends' didn't shoot the looks Brian was giving Jimmy, dark eyes glittering with mischief, lust and adoration. They didn't exchange those secret little smiles filled with adrenaline, promising more than the rush of performing after the show.

When their set ended, Brian was the last off the stage, tossing his guitar to Jason with a sigh, rolling his shoulders. He looked around backstage for his lover, wondering if he'd gone off with Johnny again. They did that a lot, he noticed. Not that he was jealous. That was all in the past. Besides, it'd be equal to Jimmy getting upset about Brian hanging out with Matt. They could get past their pasts and look to the future.

And Brian's future was Jimmy, wherever the slippery little fucker was. For all he knew, the guy was right behind him, waiting to pounce. He wouldn't put it past the drummer. It was something he'd do.

PSL (Brian Haner/Mick Morris - Vampire AU)

Brian had demanded Mick stay at his house while he went out on his rotation tonight, and as he made his way back the trail he knew so well, he knew just as well that he'd done the right thing as pain seemed to overtake his sense after he and his partner had walked away from what looked like the plot for a slaughter, the concrete of the walls slicked with oil-like blood mingling with dark vampire blood. James was right beside him, more carrying him than anything, but it was much less of a blow to his ego to say his partner was helping him home.

His shirt, once white, was stained with what looked like wine to the untrained human eye, but as James punched in the code to the house and dragged his comrade inside, it was obvious the viscosity wasn't wine-like. It was blood. Brian collapsed once the lock on the door hissed with an airtight seal, and James let him down onto the ground slowly, easily.

"Let's get this off," James muttered once Brian was propped against the wall. He stripped of the shirt and pushed him forward like a ragdoll to inspect the bullet wounds in his back. He grimaced as he examined the wounds, but Brian hissed and flinched away from it.

"Stop fucking touching it." Brian growled like a wounded animal, and James withdrew his hands and sighed, brushing a hand through his hair as he stood up, wiping his blood-covered hand on his jacket.

"I'll get you a bandage and some ice," James murmured before walking into the kitchen. Brian merely grunted in response and leaned back against the wall, grimacing as weight was pressed onto the two bullet wounds in his right shoulder.