Title: All I Want is a Place in Your Heart
Author: Carrehz
Fandom: Rock and Rule
Pairing(s): Dizzy/Stretch, background Angel/Omar
Warning(s): None
Notes: Because *someone* had to write about these two kissing, damn it. Title is taken from the song "Tonight It's You" by Cheap Trick.

---

All I Want is a Place in Your Heart

Dizzy walked down the corridor, frustrated. Omar was late for rehearsal again, and given that Angel was also nowhere to be found, it wasn't exactly difficult to figure out that they were together. After ten minutes of waiting and no sign of either of them, he'd reluctantly volunteered to go looking for them.

He stopped when he reached the door at the end of the hallway and knocked twice. "Omar? Angel? You guys in there?" He leaned against the door, listening. It was obvious someone was in there, going off the little noises coming from the room. "Guys?" he tried again, straightening up. Still no answer.

Dizzy exhaled irritably. Why was it always up to him to be the responsible one?

Not bothering to try a third time, he opened the door and was unsurprised to see his two bandmates lying on a ratty old couch, limbs tangling together as they kissed passionately, their jackets tossed haphazardly onto the back of the couch. Dizzy rolled his eyes, too used to this by now to feel that awkward about interrupting, and walked over to the couch, standing in front of them. "Should've known I'd find you two together..." They continued to thoroughly ignore him in favour of each other, even though they had to know he was there at this point. "C'mon, guys, we need to practice-"
Without looking up, Omar grabbed a jacket and tossed it at Dizzy, cutting him off and hitting him square in the face.
"Ah-!" He stumbled backwards, suddenly blind, pawing at the jacket until he succeeded in tearing it away from his glasses. He blinked, disoriented. Omar and Angel were still kissing as if there had been no interruption. Dizzy stood there for a beat, then shook his head. "Oh, forget it." He tossed the jacket to the ground as he walked away.

~~~

"Looks like we're not practicing today after all," he said by way of greeting, as he returned to the room he shared with Stretch. Stretch blinked, looking up from his guitar.
"What? Why not?" He set the instrument down on top of the box he was leaning against, looking over curiously.
Dizzy sat down on the floor, a small distance away from Stretch. "'Cause Omar and Angel are too busy making out. You know, the usual." Another roll of the eyes.
"Oh."
Stretch was silent for long enough that Dizzy assumed that was the end of the pseudo-conversation; he was leaning over, rummaging through one of the numerous cardboard boxes stacked up nearby for something to read, when Stretch suddenly spoke up again.
"Hey, Diz?"
"Uh-huh?" Dizzy continued looking through the box, not really paying attention. He was used to Stretch asking him stuff, always looking to him for clarification whenever he was confused about something. He didn't really think about it any more; it had become normal a long time ago.
"Why, uh, why don't we do that?"
"What do you mean?" he said, still distracted.
"Y'know. Kiss."
Dizzy froze. After a beat, he straightened up and looked over at Stretch. It wasn't a come-on or invitation - his face was as guileless as ever, his eyes conveying genuine confusion.
"Wh..." For a second, he was at a loss for words, the question taking him completely off-guard. Then he shook his head slightly, trying to focus - this didn't mean anything, it was just another one of Stretch's silly questions, and he was being silly for reacting to it like this. "Come on, Stretch, knock it off," he replied, a bite of impatience in his voice, giving him a look.
Stretch blinked, still confused. "Knock what off?" He swung forward, moving on his hands and knees to get closer to Dizzy. Dizzy leaned back a little, disconcerted both by the question and his sudden closeness.
"Stretch, this isn't funny..." Dizzy tried to keep his voice level, though inside he was starting to panic. What was with Stretch? He glanced down, putting a hand up in front of his face under the pretense of pushing his glasses further up his nose, hoping Stretch didn't notice how flustered he was getting.
"Huh? What's wrong, Diz?" Still the confused tone, making it painfully clear he genuinely didn't see the obvious problems with what he'd just said. He moved even closer, his face now way too close to Dizzy's; Dizzy leaned further away, but Stretch just scooched forward again, oblivious. "Diz? Hey Diz, are you listening?"
Dizzy twitched - this invasion of his space was starting to annoy him. "Stretch, stop it!" he snapped, head whipping back up, his words coming out louder and angrier than he'd really intended. He felt his cheeks flush, partly out of embarrassment and partly as he realized how close Stretch was - their noses were practically touching. "Gah, you're too close," he said, planting one hand on Stretch's chest and pushing him away.
"Wah!" Stretch yelped as he fell backwards, limbs flailing wildly. Dizzy adjusted his glasses again, trying to calm down. This wasn't anything, really - it was just Stretch being - well, Stretch. Why was he getting so worked up about it?
Stretch sat up, rubbing his lower back and looking up reproachfully. "Diz, that hurt!"
"Oh, you'll be fine..." he mumbled, although he did feel a little bad about it. "Look Stretch, it's just- you can't just say stuff like that, you know? People might get the wrong idea."
"Huh? Like what? What did I say?" He cocked his head to one side. Dizzy slapped a palm to the side of his face in frustration. Stretch still didn't get it... he was going to have to spell it out.
"Ghhh... Look- 'Hey Diz, why don't we do that?'" he repeated, pitching his voice higher to imitate Stretch. "Why're you asking that? You know why we don't... do that," he finished awkwardly, his voice lowering slightly for the last few words, as he found himself unwilling to actually say 'make out'.
"Why not? Angel an' Omar kiss all the time."
"Yes, but they're dating!" Dizzy snapped, again feeling himself both lose patience and get more flustered with the situation all at once. "We don't kiss 'cause- because--!!" He sputtered, again at a loss for words, unable to believe they were even having this conversation. "W-well, for one thing, we're both guys-"
"So?"
Dizzy just stared at him, dumbstruck. What could he say to that? Stretch's ears were drooping slightly, hurt by being yelled at, and he still had that damn confused, innocent puppydog look on his face...

Suddenly, something inside him snapped. Before he even fully knew what he was doing, Dizzy rushed forward and grabbed at Stretch's shirt, yanking him down and kissing him, arching his back a little to try and make himself taller, his glasses bumping against Stretch's nose. Stretch made a muffled squeaking noise in the back of his throat. His arms were frozen in mid-air, hands splayed like starfishes, back bent awkwardly.

After a few seconds, Dizzy pulled away, panting slightly. "I- There. I-is that what you wanted?" His face was hot - from how he felt, he was sure he must be red all over - and his heart was pounding wildly, his head a complete mess... though he noted, with some satisfaction, that Stretch also looked dazed, staring at him unblinking, his shirt hanging down slightly where he'd yanked at it. At least he wasn't the only one making a fool of himself.

He reached up to fix his glasses again, when Stretch suddenly caught his wrist in mid-air, pulling it gently away from his face and then moving his own hand upwards, lacing their fingers together. Dizzy blinked at him, nudging his glasses back into place with his free hand. "Stretch?"
"That was really nice, Diz," he said, before giggling nervously, his shoulders hunching up as he ducked his head, looking bashful. "Uh- c-can we do that again?"
Dizzy felt a smile creep up his face, despite himself. He could never stay mad at Stretch for more than a few minutes, no matter how clueless he could be sometimes. His eyes flickered to their hands, held up in the small space between them. It wasn't like they'd never held hands before, so why did this feel so different to the other times?

He considered his answer, shifting slightly as he thought. "...I don't know if we should," he said honestly, still looking at their hands. He lowered his right hand slightly, making no effort to disentangle his fingers from Stretch's. "I dunno, Stretch, I don't want us to just do this stuff for the hell of it. I'm not like that."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"You know... kissing someone just 'cause they're there. Just 'cause Omar's got a girlfriend and we haven't." Dizzy turned his head away, not knowing where to look. "Call me old-fashioned, I guess, but I always felt like it should mean more than that." He'd never been into the one-night stands and casual romances that seemed to go hand-in-hand with the music industry; he'd felt uncomfortable, more than anything, the odd time a teenybopper tried flirting with him after a gig.
"Oh- me too!" Dizzy looked back up at him. Stretch was smiling hopefully, his shoulders still hunched up slightly. "I mean, uh- I don't want a girlfriend. I just want you, Diz." He gave his hand a little squeeze.

Dizzy blinked, struck by this, then straightened up and looked Stretch in the eye. After the initial surprise, he supposed it wasn't really that odd an idea. They already spent all their time together, even outside of the band. And he couldn't deny that he felt a need to watch out for Stretch, to... protect him, he supposed. Dizzy remembered one time after a show, some girl had tried flirting with Stretch, until he'd stepped in and pulled him away from her. At the time, he'd told himself he was just looking out for Stretch. He was too naive to get mixed up with some girl - it'd just be a nuisance. It was for his own benefit as much as anything; he'd probably only end up having to bail Stretch out of some trouble or another anyway if he'd let it go anywhere.
Stretch had just seemed confused about the whole thing. At the time he'd chalked it up to Stretch's general cluelessness about most things, but looking back on it, he reflected that maybe he'd actually been puzzled at the idea that he'd want anyone other than his best friend.

He thought about it more, about every time he'd comforted Stretch, patiently explained things to him, just taken it for granted that they'd be together... had they been acting like a couple this whole time without him realizing?

"Uh, Diz? You okay?"
He jumped a little, pulled out of his reverie. "Uh- y-yeah-" Dizzy's eyes flicked away from Stretch's and darted around a bit, his gaze eventually landing on their still-clasped hands again. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He looked back up, his mind made up. "Damn it, Stretch, where did you learn to charm a guy like that?" he asked softly, squeezing Stretch's hand gently. He couldn't help but smile, even though he wasn't sure entirely how they'd gotten here.
Stretch laughed. "What are you talkin' about, Diz?" His tone was both happy and slightly confused - Dizzy was pretty sure he didn't really get what he'd meant, but it didn't really matter - he could tell that he'd understood the underlying implication behind his words, and that was enough. That was all that mattered, really.
"This," he said simply, throwing himself at Stretch and kissing him again. Stretch fell backwards from the impact, bringing Dizzy with him, the two landing in a heap together on the floor as they started to make out.

They fit together easily, Stretch's long, stick-like legs either side of Dizzy's much shorter legs, which were tucked under himself. He didn't care that the heels of his boots were stabbing into him uncomfortably, or that his glasses had slipped down his face again. Somehow it felt perfectly natural to be doing this, rolling around making out with his bandmate, just like Omar did with Angel. He grasped at Stretch's hair with one hand, his fingers tangling up in it, pulling him closer, his other hand easing his glasses off and putting them to one side, then wrapping around Stretch's neck. Stretch's hands darted all over his body restlessly, up and down, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with them; Dizzy let this go on for a bit before tiring of it, reaching around, grabbing one hand and planting it somewhere between his waist and lower back... then replacing his own hand behind Stretch's head. Stretch's fingers gripped against him, his other hand slipping inside his back pocket a few seconds later.

He wasn't sure how long they spent kissing, time slipping away from him as they moved on pure instinct. It wasn't his first kiss - just because he was awkward around girls, it didn't mean he'd had zero experience with them - but it had, admittedly, been a while since he'd made out with anyone; still, he remembered what to do well enough, and Stretch didn't seem to be having any trouble catching on either. At some point they rolled over, swapping sides, Stretch awkwardly - well - stretching over him, all long legs and clumsy, fumbling hands. Dizzy reached up and pulled him down, arching up and wrapping his legs around Stretch's hips, clinging to him as one of Stretch's hands slipped under his jacket, and why hadn't they done this before, because right now he felt like he could just stay like this forever...

"Heh, so THAT'S what you guys do when I'm not around."
Dizzy sputtered, feeling like he was choking on his own tongue, or maybe Stretch's. The two pulled apart rapidly, staring up at Omar, standing over them and smirking. Angel stood behind him, her hand over her mouth, smiling and clearly trying not to laugh.
"O-oh, hey guys!" Stretch said, slightly too cheerfully, as he tried to untangle himself from Dizzy.
"H-how long have you been there?!" Dizzy burst out, his face burning instantly, hands scuttling around on the floor behind him, trying to find his glasses.
"Loooong enough, Diz. Long enough."
Angel nudged her boyfriend, unable to suppress a giggle herself. "Don't tease them, O." She smiled at them. "Ignore him."
Stretch giggled nervously, his legs still entwined with Dizzy's. "Haha, uh, I think I'm stuck." Dizzy sighed, then sat up, unlocking his legs and quickly drawing them close to himself, nudging Stretch away at the same time; he tumbled to one side, still giggling.
"Alright, alright, enough already..." Dizzy mumbled, embarrassed but trying not to show it. His hands, still searching, hit upon something, a quick glance revealing it to be Stretch's hat; it must have fallen off at some point when they were... well, anyway.
Angel shook her head, still smiling, and bent forward, holding her hand out to Dizzy; he took it somewhat reluctantly, allowing her to help him to his feet before pulling away. Omar turned to leave.
"C'mon already, we gotta rehearse. That is..." he paused in the doorway, looking back with a sly grin. "...if you two can keep your hands off each other for that long."
"Omar!" Angel said again, her tone more chiding this time.
Dizzy rolled his eyes as he followed the two out of the door. "Oh, like you're one to talk. C'mon, Stretch," he added, pausing in the doorway and looking back, to find Stretch bent over on the floor, his back to him. "...What are you doing?"
"Oh!" He hurried to his feet and over to Dizzy's side, holding out his glasses, his face bright and happy, totally unfazed by the interruption. "Here ya go!"
Dizzy said nothing, just laughed slightly, fondly, as he took the glasses, replacing them before reaching up and dropping Stretch's cap back onto his head. Stretch smiled even wider, if that was even possible, slipping a hand in Dizzy's as they walked out of the room together.