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Why Don't You Guys Make Out As Well?

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Now it was time for the kiss scene. That was always Jake’s favorite part of the fanfic, the moment when they finally got together and started making out. He already had planned out exactly how it was going to happen.

‘Scott slowly leaned in closer’ Jake typed, leaning back in his fireside recliner, ‘Claude hesitantly leaned in closer himself. He ran his fingers through Scott’s curly hair and before he knew it they were...’

Jake grinned. He knew just what the fangirls would love. Not because he himself was one; He was a fanboy instead. And even though his OTP was obscure, that didn’t keep him from churning out at least one fic of it every month. Even if everyone else on the sites he browsed were just obsessed with pairings like Toews/Kane (overrated in his opinion, but probably canon) and Briere/Giroux (wouldn’t be bad if it didn’t break up his OTP) he staunchly defended his ship from all the silly teenage girls who tried to tell him how strange and far-fetched it was.

What did they know, anyway? He knew them way better than any of those girls did. He knew they were in love. When girls didn’t see that, he wrote them off as being unenlightened or just stupid, but when people bashed his OTP... they usually got replies along the lines of ‘Hartnell/Giroux is everything you ignorant bitch’ or ‘they’re practically canon you moron’ or ‘are you blind they’re flawless’ Even the... interesting (AKA: creepy as fuck) girls on tumblr obsessed with Sean didn’t seem to see it for the most part. What was wrong with them? How could anyone not ship it?

Jake took a break from typing and stared at the fire crackling softly in his fireplace, tapping his fingers against the arms of the dark red chair. How could he make everyone understand? How could he get more people to ship the pairing and write beautiful fanfiction and draw steamy fanart of it? How could he...

Jake’s eyes lit up and he immediately returned his attention to his laptop. He switch tabs from the google document he was writing in to his dusty old Twitter account. He’d make them ship it. He’d make everyone ship it. His beautiful OTP would be bigger than Toews/Kane, he could practically swim in fanfiction of it.

‘@Hartsy19 and @28CGiroux’ Jake began, before pausing and flexing his fingers. What to say... well he had just been writing a make out scene, so... ‘why don’t you guys make out--’  Wait, no no no. He had to type badly. He had to make sure nobody ever suspected he was a writer, and that meant ignoring grammar and punctuation rules. ‘why dont u guys make out As well:)???’

Jake grinned. What a perfect tweet. It would make so many people think of how perfect the pairing was... just what he wanted. Jake hit tweet and switched tabs again to finish his fic before checking Twitter again.

--

Only once his fic was finished and posted did Jake go back to Twitter and see Max’s retweet.

‘haha that would be weird!!!’

Jake chuckled and stroked his blond beard as he re-read the tweet. “I think you misspelled ‘wonderful’,” he murmured, “Or perfect. Or hot.”

After typing out an assurance to his followers that he was joking, (a complete lie, obviously) Jake closed his laptop and sat back and laughed. Tomorrow morning, the internet would be loaded with beautiful fanfiction of his OTP, and when it became huge he could always say he liked it way back when the only fics there were for it were his. (And when it became canon, he’d of course be able to say he called it)

Nobody would ever bash his beautiful ship again.