Synthetic Love

A/N~~Hello! And then Jasper saideth, "Let there be a sequel to Devil's Night!"

Sorry about the Biblical shit. I am the polar opposite of Christian, which is hysterical. I decided to write a sequel to Devil's Night, and I named it after the song Synthetic Love by no other than MIW. My brother gets to see them in March, and my friend and I are stuck with ATL a few days later because we would be killed at a Motionless concert. Daniel saw me writing this and hit me over the head with a drumstick and flipped me off repeatedly. Anyway, enjoy!

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It had been 6 months since Chris Cerulli and Ricky Olsen made out- I mean up. Balz, Brandon, and Devin always picked on them, and Ryan was the only one that didn't seem to mind. Some fans reacted well, other not so much. Some of them were supportive, and others lashed out at the couple. The two didn't mind. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

"Yo, Wiener Boy! It's your turn to drive!" Devin called back towards the guitarist. Ricky groaned, not budging. "C'mon, up. I know you're comfy on Chris, but you have to take your shift." Brandon muttered, grabbing Ricky by the feet. He dragged the smaller boy off of his boyfriend's chest, where both of them had been sleeping on the couch.

"Fine, fine, I'm awake. Get your hands off of me." Ricky grumbled, smoothing out his crinkled shirt before smoothing down his tangled hair. They had a long drive between shows, so none of the boys had bothered to get into their on-stage getup yet. Ricky was wearing a wrinkled black shirt that belonged to Chris and a pair of baggy pyjama pants that covered the tops of his pale feet. To be honest, he felt a little sick, so skinny jeans didn't seem like a favourable option. He took Devin's place at the wheel, a Rockstar seated next to him in the cup holder. After a few minutes, Chris padded towards him and sat in the seat next to him, his hand rested over the one Ricky had on the centre console.

"How you holdin' up?" Chris asked gently, toying with Ricky's pale fingers. "I'm fine." Ricky said stiffly. Chris rolled his golden eyes as he looked at his younger. "Rick, no you're not. You're paler than usual, you're grouchy, you're kinda sick, and you've kinda shut down recently." He saw Ricky's grasp on the steering wheel tighten.

"Chris, I'm fine. Really, I am. I'm just a little under the weather." Chris smiled and leaned in to peck a kiss on Ricky's pale lips, but Ricky stopped him. "I don't want you to get sick." Chris chuckled, poking at Ricky's reddened nose as he said, "Well I do," in a teasing manor before placing several chaste kisses all over his face, Ricky's nose scrunching up as Chris' syliva stayed on his skin. This is how they worked; nothing could keep them apart, and they would never wish otherwise-that is, until it happened.