A/N: I bought My Chemical Romance's "Desolation Row" video last night…and OMG is it ever AMAZING. Sooo I was inspired to write this…
I don't own the song (not even the Bob Dylan original), or any member of MCR (not even Mikey).
This is a spinoff of Rhiannon Leigh Black's I Wanna Be a Rock Star, as it occurs during the plotline there. But, Robin, if you decide on doing what you mentioned with Leesie's "demons," don't worry that this won't exactly "go."
Rock Stars are Fangirls, Too
The hotel room was dark and silent. It was 3:00 in the morning, and Leesie Rennings and John Cena were sound asleep after an exhausting day of appearances and tapings. His arm was curled around her possessively, a few strands of her long brunette hair threaded between his fingers. One of her legs had come to rest over his in the night.
Both John and Leesie were lost in their dreams. John's were, quite frankly, rather naughty dreams involving himself and the woman beside him. Leesie, on the other hand, was having dreams of another sort. In her dream, she and her F4 bandmates were heading to a My Chemical Romance concert.
And that's when Leesie awoke with a shriek of realization. Her eyes flew open, and she scrambled to disentangle herself from the bed sheets and her boyfriend. He awoke groggily and moaned in protest as she grabbed her glasses.
"Wha--"
She ignored him, choosing instead to grope around in the room in search of her laptop. When finally she found it, she settled back on the bed, lying on her stomach with the computer in front of her. She twitched impatiently as she waited for it to boot up. John flung a pillow over his face with a groan. Within seconds, however, curiosity had gotten the best of him and he watched her bemusedly.
She seemed to grow more irritated with every second--whatever she was aiming to do was taking far too long for her liking.
"Damn you, iTunes!" she complained, flailing in annoyance.
Finally it loaded, and she clicked on the "iTunes Store" link. This still took too long, as she buried her face in her pillow and moaned in agony.
"What are you doing?" he questioned.
"Don't talk to me," she said shortly as she navigated within the iTunes store. "I swear, you ruin this for me, and I will kill you."
He fell silent. Meanwhile, she clicked "buy now" on the video she had been searching for. Her face lit up with a joy that was almost frightening. It was short-lived, however.
"Fuck you, iTunes rule changes!" she yelled.
She accepted said changes without having read them--no one ever does, anyway--and attempted her purchase again. This time, the video began downloading. Of course, this wasn't nearly fast enough for the crazed fangirl. Instead of waiting demurely, she chose to rant.
"Damn it…of course you're going to take a fucking lifetime to download. Do you KNOW how long I've waited for this?! It's been TWO YEARS since the d-bags I love so much have given us music. Why do you insist upon making me wait longer?! This is so stupid. Aaargh!"
The video was only half-downloaded.
"GOD DAMMIT!" she yelled.
John winced.
"You're going to wake everyone…"
"I don't care!" she said passionately, although a bit less loudly. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for this?"
He raised a brow.
"What are you talking about?"
Her mouth fell open, and she hit him on the arm.
"You know what I'm talking about."
"No, I don't…"
She glared at him.
"Yes, you do."
"No, I--"
She glanced back at the screen and gasped joyously.
"Shutup it's done!" she squealed triumphantly.
He fell silent, and she turned up the volume on the computer before hitting "play." The video for My Chemical Romance's cover of "Desolation Row" began to play. As it did, she reacted so intensely he was worried for her sanity. She squealed, she flailed happily…and, at one point, she sounded ready to orgasm.
"HOLY SHIT THAT MAN!!!" she managed, overwhelmed by the sight of Mikey Way.
When it was finished, she was barely able to speak. John was feeling slightly inadequate at this point. If a music video could produce this reaction in her, maybe he wasn't as good at sex as he thought.
"Are you okay?" he asked tentatively.
"That…was so…sexy…" she said, sitting up. "Did you see…his face? And…oh, I'd like to…" she blushed, but, as it was dark, he didn't see.
"You're scaring me a little bit," he admitted.
She smirked.
"Jealous?"
"What? No…But I've never--"
There was a knock on the door adjoining their room to Punk and Rynne's.
"Come in!" John called wearily.
"You'd better not be naked," called the voice of the drummer as she pushed the door open.
"No, we're clothed," Leesie assured her.
Rynne opened her eyes.
"Look, we get that you can't keep your hands off each other, but is it necessary to be so loud, Leesie?"
"We weren't having sex," John said, sounding a little dejected.
"Sure didn't sound that way…" Rynne said skeptically.
Her eyes fell on the computer.
"Watching a porno?" she questioned in confusion.
"No," Leesie insisted.
She sat up, grinning and bouncing happily.
"It's the new MCR video!"
"…Oh."
John was still confused. His manly pride was still wounded.
"Funny…you never react like that to Cena's matches."
Leesie blushed crimson, and the metaphorical sword in John's side received a firm twist. His face darkened.
"Yeah, well…I…" Leesie stuttered. "Go get some sleep, Rynne."
Rynne nodded and disappeared through the door. Once she was gone, an uncomfortable silence filled the room.
"Look, John…I…"
"What? Am I that inadequate? Would you rather have him?"
"Frankly, yes," she said, ignoring his sharp intake of breath. "But he's married. John, I'm kidding," she said gently. "Seriously."
"Is it really that much of a turn-on?"
"I can't help it. I find that man immensely attractive. I sort of…forgot you were here for a moment there…"
She kissed his cheek.
"But I don't love him. I love you. Don't be so sensitive."
"Am I that bad at sex?"
She was torn between laughter and confusion.
"What?"
"Well, it's just…you never react that way to me…"
"It hasn't been two years since we've had sex…it's been two years since I've heard new MCR."
She maneuvered her way into his lap and kissed him soundly.
"Trust me…that was not better than sex."
He kissed the top of her head.
"Okay. I'm sorry I'm so sensitive."
"And I'm sorry I'm so insensitive."
"Forgive me?"
She chose not to answer with words.