So this was for Twi Network's Iron Pen Challenge. The premise is this: Twi Network tweets a prompt and participants then have 30 mins to rock out an unbeta'd o/s.
I participated to get my writing juices flowing, but my dumb ass missed the deadline by three minutes cuz I couldn't figure out where to send the damn thing! *headdesk*
Anywho, to read the anonymous entries by people who have common sense, go here: www. fanfiction. net/u/2431346/Twi_Network
Keep in mind that this was written on the spot in 30 minutes, so it's rough around the edges.
"You can't be top dog if you act like a pussy, Edward."
I roll my eyes. My brother Emmett is always coming up with dumb shit like this to say.
As I watch him shove his mouth full of Cheetos, neon orange dust speckling his bare chest, I begin wondering what the hell made me ask him for advice in the first place. He was my brother, but he sucked ass when it came to giving advise. Although he wasn't aware of this fact.
"Seriously, Eddie. You need to talk to him, approach him like you would a girl... only he's not a girl... 'cause you're gay."
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. He does that a lot and I don't even think he even notices. Any chance he gets, Emmett will take it upon himself to tell anyone in his vicinity that I'm gay and that he accepts it.
I'll never forget the time he took me to a Mariners' game a few months back. Em was chatting it up with a guy he was sitting next to and I wasn't really paying attention to most of the conversation because I wasn't interested in what either of them had to say. But I just so happened to tune in when the stranger excitedly yelled that the bases were loaded and Emmett responded with: "Are you gay? My brother is, by the way. I could totally hook you up, I'm cool with it, dude."
I didn't stick around long enough to hear the stranger's response.
Later in the car, Emmett couldn't understand why I was upset. "I had your bases loaded, Edward. He was so into you and you ran like a loser. I refuse to have my DNA involved with anything having to do with loser-dom."
"Yeah, well... shut up."
He ignored me, of course. He never shuts up.
"You gotta be more assertive, bro. Be a winner in life! People stand for number one. They sit for number two. Remember that shit."
What the fuck does that even mean?
So here I sit, still frustrated and no closer to figuring this shit out than what I was thirty minutes ago. Thirty minutes of enduring my big brother spout line after line of dumb shit until I feel like my ears will start bleeding if I don't get away as soon as possible.
I lie and tell him I have diarrhea to escape. It's the only way.
Two days later and I've prepared my speech. I know exactly what to say to break the ice with my mystery man. He'll chuckle and be immediately charmed by my extraordinary charming charm and he'll then ask me to go get coffee with him. I'll of course accept, only after saying something witty and charming that will have him chuckling even more.
All of my come backs are in place and memorized and I'm ready to face him.
Only I'm not.
Because when I see him, my mind is as useless as a vagina grinding in my face.
He smirks at me as he walks by.
Okay, so we're the only two around and it would be rude not to, but still! This is progress!
His hair is down today, all wavy and wild and shining like spun gold in the sun. Flip flops slapping against the pavement, khaki shorts hanging from his hips. Fuck, I wanna see what's beneath those shorts.
I wonder if there are any dark corners that I can sneak in. A problem has popped up and it needs immediate attention. From my hand.
I turn my head a bit to watch his ass and mentally scream "fuck my life" when I find myself falling to my face in fucking slo-mo.
"Hey, you okay, man?"
I crack open one eye, because the other is smushed into the sidewalk, and groan when I see his face.
He helps me up and he has me dazzled. Say something! "Uh, so a blonde walks into a bar and the bases are loaded and my penis is hard."
Oh my fuck.
He laughs. And his eyes crinkle and I maybe wanna die a little less after seeing that smile.
"What's your name?"
"Cullen... er, Edward. Edward."
He smiles again. "Well, Cullener Edward Edward, you wanna go grab some coffee?"
My shoulders sag with relief and I smile back. "Yeah."
As we walk to the coffee shop, I hope that my loaded bases will be relieved later tonight.