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    Coldplay Fanfic Is Getting An Ending!

    Here’s a message from Sara - author of the famous Chris/Jonny “Coldslash” ‘Careful Where You Stand’.


    Hey there kids - my name’s Sara, I wrote a crappy Chris/Jonny fanfic called Careful Where You Stand - http://www.geocities.com/xwhatawasterx/cwys01.html - some obscenely long time ago and never finished it because I fail at life. I decided to finish it. Figured I’d tell you guys… maybe some of you will appreciate the info! the final few chapters should be here or at my site in the next week or so.


    Now you guys get to tell me what to do for the ending because I have no idea. (I’m only half-kidding.)


    - Sara



    It was horribly cold, and Jonny was shivering. He had a sweatshirt on, but he had always been a wussy when it came to the cold. Especially this kind of cold. He kept his eyes trained on the sky for any sign of snowflakes.


    "So are we still on?" he heard Will ask in a whisper.


    "I don't know, maybe."


    "There's not too many people out there. Think they'll be disappointed?"


    "How the bloody hell should I know?" Jonny retorted.


    "Are you just being a bitch because you're cold?"


    "Are you asking stupid questions because you have no one else to annoy?"


    Will shrugged and rubbed his hands together. "This sucks shite."


    Jonny rolled his eyes and turned away from Will. Pillock. Where were Chris and Guy? Chris had promised he'd be back by now. And Guy had disappeared without anyone noticing, like bloody usual. Christ! When everything had seemed to be going all right, it suddenly just sort of fell apart around them. And none of them seemed to even care.


    "Jonny, you okay?" Will asked timidly.


    "Never been better."


    "You look a little panicked."


    "That's because we have less than half an hour before stage time and our lead singer is MIA!"


    Will cast a look around the dank little green room. "You could sing in place of him."


    "I don't think so, Will. Don't be stupid." Jonny sighed and burrowed deeper into his black sweatshirt. Jesus... What a crappy mood he was in. Usually he was fine, right before they came on stage, but right now he just really felt like going to sleep and waking up when it was all over.


    His mind wandered, thankfully. But it wandered to a very unfortunate place. Three nights ago, to the tiny, darkened hotel room after they played Brixton Academy. Two rooms, two beds. Guy and Will in one bed, Chris and he in the other. It had been bad, very bad... Chris, though built like a twig, took up most of the boxy little bed. Their backs were pressed together, and one of Chris's feet was nested in the crook of Jonny's knee. That had been okay; pleasant, even. Jonny liked the warmth Chris gave. He was nearly asleep, when suddenly Chris had shifted positions completely. Now his cheek was resting on Jonny's shoulder, and they were spooned together like... Well, like lovers, or something. Jonny blushed slightly even thinking about it. He fidgeted nervously, trying to forget it - but it had felt so right and so perfect. Jonny had never felt so at peace before. But he didn't want to touch that...


    It was friendship. Jonny was straight. Chris was definitely straight. They were all just regular guys with girlfriends. Jonny had just been having a rough time in the romance department ever since the whole business with fame had started - you had to be careful who you picked. Some were just groupies, and others were earnest. It was a gamble every time, and Jonny, more often than not, lost.


    But something was different now. Something had turned inside Jonny, and every time he thought of Chris, he thought of Chris's soft cheek pressed against his shoulder and his chest to Jonny's back. Jonny had felt his chest rise and fall with every even breath.


    "Jonny? You hear that? I think Guy is back." Will stood and stretched, then cracked his knuckles. "Ready?"


    No, of course not! I can't go up on fucking stage in front of a crowd with Chris right there next to me, crooning like a sex god! "Yeah, I'm ready," Jonny said easily.


    Guy burst in, kicking the door open with a booted foot. It smacked against the wall loudly, and he grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Yo! You guys ready to fucking rock?"


    Jonny eyed him dubiously. "You obviously are," he retorted, standing and shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.


    "Fuck yeah! Chris is nervous, though."


    "Why? It's only a hundred people or so." Will picked up his drumsticks and twirled them in his fingers.


    "Dunno!" Guy said. "He's in the loo, standing over the toilet."


    "Is he throwing up?" Jonny asked, furrowing his brow. Poor Chris... He was brilliant onstage, but not so good with the before-you-get-onstage bit.


    "Don't think so," Guy told him cheerily, trotting over to where his guitar rested in its case. "I'm not sure, though. Maybe you should check. He asked after you, anyway."


    "He asked a --" Jonny swallowed his sudden rush of excitement, wincing. "Er... Yeah, all right. I'll go check."


    He pushed past Guy and walked quietly down the hall to the bathroom, knocking twice on the slightly open door. Chris coughed hollowly, and called in a slightly strangled voice, "What?"


    "You okay, mate? Guy told me you were puking or something." Jonny cringed at how insensitive his words sounded... but he was nervous around Chris. Every friendly gesture suddenly had to be examined under a new light; a light that made him slightly - no, *extremely* uncomfortable.


    "No... Yeah. Whatever. I don't know." Chris yanked open the door and Jonny stumbled back a step. He looked like hell, that was for sure; rings under his eyes, face pale, shoulders slouched.


    "Jesus, Chris. Have you been getting sleep?"


    Chris shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Yeah... I haven't really been able to sleep for a couple nights now."


    A couple nights. A couple nights ago, they had slept together. In the same bed. Like long-time lovers. Jonny shivered, watching Chris's haggard face. "Since Brixton?"


    "Yeah..." Chris blinked. "How'd you -- er, well... Yeah. Since Brixton. I'm a little out of it."


    "Can you make it tonight?"


    "Of course. When I get back though... Well... Where are we staying?"


    "Dunno. A hotel."


    Chris fidgeted a little, not meeting Jonny's eyes. "How many rooms we got? Four?"


    Jonny's head felt light. "No... we're only there one night. We got two rooms."


    And two beds.


    Read the other chapters here

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