Title: The Last Song I'm Wasting On You
Author: Ich. Weil ich cool bin.
Rating: Maybe... K+ for slash-if you-squint.
Warnings: Just a little of the typical gayness.
Pairings: Tony/Pickles, Pickles/Nathan
Notes: I'm writing some drabbles based on songs. Each will receive the title from the song I'm currently listening to, and it will be based on what the song is about. This time it was The Last Song I'm Wasting On You by Amy Lee.
Pickles laid down his pen and stared at the letter he'd written. Yet another elegy for his one-time band mate. He couldn't stop writing sick, queer notes and letters to Tony. Tony Thunderbottom was his biggest inspiration. He was like... like a brother to Pickles, and the redhead simply couldn't help admiring him. But now...
Now things had changed, and Pickles had nothing left for the semi-Italian bassist he'd once shared his room and his booze and his home with. Tony had lied to him, betrayed him. Pickles felt used. Useless. He felt like he was worth nothing... But if he looked at Nathan in this light, casting him into the role of the bitchy, good-for-nothing wuss, it felt so wrong. Nathan was like a father to him. Though he was younger, he was more sensible, and he always knew how to make the Wisconsinite laugh. He was better than Calvert any day. Pickles crossed Tony's name off the lyrical script. He hadn't decided whether Nathan's name should be in its place, but this was it. This was the last song he was ever wasting on Tony.