Jonathan ficathon
For the Jonathan ficathon:
Pairing requested: Jonathan/Oz
Special Instructions: Unrequited, snarkiness.
For: threesixoh
Set: Pre-Buffy Season One
Title: The Continuation of the Species
"Him?"
"Uhuh."
"You could do better, man. Maybe if he were a little taller, a little older. Longer hair, fuller figure. Maybe a couple of breasts, no more because that'd be weird, but poutier lips, long blonde hair, slim legs..."
"And a girl?"
"That'd help. Plus, too young for ya. He's what, a year younger? Cradle robbing, dude."
"Two months."
"Yeah? How d'ya know that? Going into stalker mode, huh? Not good. I can see the headlines now. Promising music career cut short..." Oz cut Devon short instead.
"His seventh birthday party. His mom invited all of the first and second grade. Wanted to help her little boy make friends."
"Ouch."
"Yeah."
"You know, parents, they totally should not be allowed out in public. Many a hopeful young man on the edge of making it good has had his happiness blighted by one unconsidered remark about what their little muppet used to do with his pookie bear." Oz grinned and watched Jonathan, as Devon rambled. Jonathan was trying to stuff his books into an overfull locker. First one book fell in, then that went back in and two fell out, then he wiped his forehead, muttering under his breath. Then two books went in and eight fell out. Exponential progression. Not good. He knelt on the floor and picked the books up. People around him laughed. Jonathan looked hurt, but as if he expected it. Oz should help him. He looked kinda cute; his nose had gone all buttony where he'd wrinkled it up in indignation. Devon interrupted Oz's musings.
"You should go over. Talk to him."
"Talk?"
"Yeah, you know, that thing you do with words and sentences..."
"Talk." Oz nodded and started to walk across the, surprisingly much longer than it normally appeared, hall. As he walked, three footballers ran past him, muscle-bound barons of the high-school crowd. Their brains were also muscle-bound, of course, but that wasn't any consolation to guys like Jonathan; who now found his books strewn across the floor, and himself turned back to front by the 'accidental' bumpage of one of them. Possibly even more insultingly, they didn't bother looking back to admire their handiwork. All in a day's work. Oz shrugged; grabbing a book, he handed it to Jonathan, silently. Jonathan looked up, scowling.
"You don't have to bother. I'm fine." Oz shook his head slightly and continued to gather the books together. They collected the books, and turned to Jonathan's locker. Oz thought about providing Jonathan with a slightly more scientific system for putting his books away than just throwing them in and hoping that one day in the near future he'd be able to find the appropriate book for his next class, before it became his previous class, but decided that he'd just start babbling.
Why was it that everyone, including himself, became a gibbering idiot when faced by someone they liked? It seemed counter-productive to the continuation of the species to him. Well, okay, not strictly speaking in this case, because, what with the both being boys, there wasn't going to be a lot of the continuing of the species thing going on; or, given the way Jonathan was still glaring suspiciously at him, anything at all going on, even with the non-reproductive sense, and Oz wasn't sure he wanted to start thinking along those lines in the middle of school with Jonathan irritatedly right there, anyway. He blinked, and said the first thing that came into his head that was entirely un-sex related. He noticed a book.
"Who killed Kennedy?, huh?" Jonathan looked trapped.
"Uh, yeah, I mean, you wouldn't be interested. It's Doctor Who."
"Doctor Who killed Kennedy, did he? Thought we were supposed to know now it was the Cigarette Smoking Man." For the first time Oz saw Jonathan smile, rather reluctantly, but it looked good on him; a distinct improvement on the cornered rat expression that he'd been exhibiting.
"Yeah, practically everyone's had a go at killing Kennedy. Even Kennedy."
"It's a popular pastime certainly. Practically a rite of passage for fictional villains." One of the students milling about them, a gloomy looking, dark-haired boy, leaned rather heavily against his locker. Jonathan twitched slightly.
"I've gotta go. Class." He walked off. The other boy followed. Oz stared after them, slightly bewildered. Devon sauntered over.
"Successful?" Oz didn't answer, just shrugged.
"What are you going to do? Try again tomorrow? Once more unto the boy." Smiling faintly, Oz looked in the direction Jonathan had gone.
"Tiger-imitating, brass cannons and all. Tomorrow morning."
_______________
Tucker had caught up with Jonathan.
"Yeah, that wasn't nice." Jonathan stopped, and glared at him.
"What? Listening in on my conversations?"
"No, that Oz guy. The way he was treating you. That was lame, dude."
"What d'you mean?"
"Pretending to be interested. He'll be laughing about it now. Getting those guys to knock you over, so you could show him what a geek you are." Jonathan thought about it. Oz was popular, after all. There was a direct correlation between popularity and meanness; aside from outliers like Tucker, who had to be lying, didn't he?
"Don't be such a penis-head. Why would he?"
"It's high-school. Why wouldn't he be? Have you ever had one moment's happiness here? High school is a tool devised by the government, so that the rest of our life ends up looking good to us, however screwed up it is." He had a point.
"Nah."
"So, why do you think he wanted to talk to you?"
"Uh," Okay, so Jonathan couldn't actually think of a reason, immediately. But there had to be one, a good one, that made sense, and didn't involve...
"I know; he likes you! The two of you should date. You'd make the perfect couple. Short and Shorter." Tucker doubled up in laughter at his own joke. Lame.
"Very funny. So funny I'm laughing in such a high register you can't hear me." Tucker continued snickering. Then he stopped.
"Hey, that could be what he's doing. He thinks you're gay, so he's trying to come on to you to force you out of the closet and then everyone will laugh at you. That's gotta be it."
"Suuure. Cos, I'm just so gay."
"Just you wait and see."
"Whatever." The bell rang, signifying another round of mindlessly numbing regurgitated pap. Until school would get out, and he'd have to go home, do unnecessary homework, designed to sap the spirit, and ensure that he learned nothing of value that day. And then, of course, he'd have to do it all again tomorrow. Marvin the Paranoid Android had definitely had the right idea. Jonathan spent the rest of the day drawing scenes from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his textbooks.
The next morning Jonathan found himself at Tucker's door, ringing the bell. Tucker greeted him, with his usual graciousness and enthusiasm.
"What are you doing here?"
"Apparently I have to take your little brother to his school. My Mom says he's being bullied, and needs an escort. So, shouldn't you be doing that?"
"No."
"Why not? He's your insane brother."
"Because, lame-ass, if I let Andrew get beat up, my Mom will just be glad of a bit of quiet. Your Mom will ground you until Thanksgiving ... 2006"
"There is a certain logic to your position. Where is he?"
"Millennium Falcon." Jonathan groaned. It was going to be one of those days. A small boy ran out the door, nearly knocking Tucker over. Tucker punched him, and Andrew looked about to cry; then, seeing Jonathan, he beamed.
"Yoda!" Tucker, who had been looking extremely unpleasant, grinned.
"Yeah, he's got you right. Short and wrinkled, like most people's..."
"Shut-up, dorkears."
"I'm not the one with long, green ears, dude. Anyway, I'm off."
"Aren't you going to walk with us?"
"With him? I'd rather date Hillary Clinton. Maybe I would anyway, for Clinton to stick with her, maybe she's got something; ya could turn the lights out."
"Yeah, she's got something. Money and influence."
"Oh, yeah." Tucker shrugged and left them. Jonathan turned to Andrew.
"I'll walk with you, but you pretend you're not with me if we see anyone I know, and you're Andrew, not Luke or Chewbacca or anyone. Got it?"
"Yeah." Andrew looked downcast for a second, but cheered up almost immediately. He ran ahead of Jonathan for a second, then turned back. Why didn't his parents get him Ritalin or something? Andrew was weird.
"So, what are we doing after school? You could come over, we could hide from Tucker, he could be Darth Vader and we have to avoid him, or we could watch something or play D&D." Jonathan was about to explain that between playing after school with a kid a bit more than two years younger than him, and acting ten years younger, and doing, well basically anything, there was no contest, when he saw Oz. Who was waving at Jonathan, and walking over to join him. Andrew, of course, did not pretend he was nothing to do with Jonathan. He chose that moment to forget every instruction ever given to him, and turned to Oz.
"I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you." Jonathan wondered if there was any home he could put Andrew into, just for the next thirty or sixty years, until he grew up. He turned to Oz apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I don't know him." He turned to Andrew.
"The next line is 'You're who?' and is entirely fitting, you little worm." He realized after he said it that that wasn't the best way of demonstrating he didn't know Andrew, who pouted and wandered off. Oz smiled.
"Princess Leia? I'd have to do something about the hair. What do you think?" Jonathan swallowed his embarrassment.
"The clothing might be a bit difficult too."
"It could suit me." Jonathan stared, picturing Oz in Princess Leia costume. He laughed.
"Maybe not."
"Not very fetching, you think. You're probably right." Oz smiled at Jonathan, who suddenly recognized that Oz might conceivably, possibly be flirting with him. Tucker was right. This was bad.
"Not fetching at all. Very un-fetching. Because you're a boy, and I'm not gay. Very much not with the gay. I like girls. Because they're girls. And not boys." He left. Damn Oz for trying to make a fool out of him. He hadn't succeeded at least.
______________
That was blunt. No mixed messages there. Oz looked at Devon, who'd heard at least part of the outburst. Devon clapped him on the back, clumsily, but consolingly, and they walked the rest of the way to school. It could have been worse. Jonathan could have blurted that speech out when they were kissing for the first time, or possibly when they were in bed. No, this was good. Devon looked sidelong at him.
"So chicks?" Oz nodded.
"Chicks."
Pairing requested: Jonathan/Oz
Special Instructions: Unrequited, snarkiness.
For: threesixoh
Set: Pre-Buffy Season One
Title: The Continuation of the Species
"Him?"
"Uhuh."
"You could do better, man. Maybe if he were a little taller, a little older. Longer hair, fuller figure. Maybe a couple of breasts, no more because that'd be weird, but poutier lips, long blonde hair, slim legs..."
"And a girl?"
"That'd help. Plus, too young for ya. He's what, a year younger? Cradle robbing, dude."
"Two months."
"Yeah? How d'ya know that? Going into stalker mode, huh? Not good. I can see the headlines now. Promising music career cut short..." Oz cut Devon short instead.
"His seventh birthday party. His mom invited all of the first and second grade. Wanted to help her little boy make friends."
"Ouch."
"Yeah."
"You know, parents, they totally should not be allowed out in public. Many a hopeful young man on the edge of making it good has had his happiness blighted by one unconsidered remark about what their little muppet used to do with his pookie bear." Oz grinned and watched Jonathan, as Devon rambled. Jonathan was trying to stuff his books into an overfull locker. First one book fell in, then that went back in and two fell out, then he wiped his forehead, muttering under his breath. Then two books went in and eight fell out. Exponential progression. Not good. He knelt on the floor and picked the books up. People around him laughed. Jonathan looked hurt, but as if he expected it. Oz should help him. He looked kinda cute; his nose had gone all buttony where he'd wrinkled it up in indignation. Devon interrupted Oz's musings.
"You should go over. Talk to him."
"Talk?"
"Yeah, you know, that thing you do with words and sentences..."
"Talk." Oz nodded and started to walk across the, surprisingly much longer than it normally appeared, hall. As he walked, three footballers ran past him, muscle-bound barons of the high-school crowd. Their brains were also muscle-bound, of course, but that wasn't any consolation to guys like Jonathan; who now found his books strewn across the floor, and himself turned back to front by the 'accidental' bumpage of one of them. Possibly even more insultingly, they didn't bother looking back to admire their handiwork. All in a day's work. Oz shrugged; grabbing a book, he handed it to Jonathan, silently. Jonathan looked up, scowling.
"You don't have to bother. I'm fine." Oz shook his head slightly and continued to gather the books together. They collected the books, and turned to Jonathan's locker. Oz thought about providing Jonathan with a slightly more scientific system for putting his books away than just throwing them in and hoping that one day in the near future he'd be able to find the appropriate book for his next class, before it became his previous class, but decided that he'd just start babbling.
Why was it that everyone, including himself, became a gibbering idiot when faced by someone they liked? It seemed counter-productive to the continuation of the species to him. Well, okay, not strictly speaking in this case, because, what with the both being boys, there wasn't going to be a lot of the continuing of the species thing going on; or, given the way Jonathan was still glaring suspiciously at him, anything at all going on, even with the non-reproductive sense, and Oz wasn't sure he wanted to start thinking along those lines in the middle of school with Jonathan irritatedly right there, anyway. He blinked, and said the first thing that came into his head that was entirely un-sex related. He noticed a book.
"Who killed Kennedy?, huh?" Jonathan looked trapped.
"Uh, yeah, I mean, you wouldn't be interested. It's Doctor Who."
"Doctor Who killed Kennedy, did he? Thought we were supposed to know now it was the Cigarette Smoking Man." For the first time Oz saw Jonathan smile, rather reluctantly, but it looked good on him; a distinct improvement on the cornered rat expression that he'd been exhibiting.
"Yeah, practically everyone's had a go at killing Kennedy. Even Kennedy."
"It's a popular pastime certainly. Practically a rite of passage for fictional villains." One of the students milling about them, a gloomy looking, dark-haired boy, leaned rather heavily against his locker. Jonathan twitched slightly.
"I've gotta go. Class." He walked off. The other boy followed. Oz stared after them, slightly bewildered. Devon sauntered over.
"Successful?" Oz didn't answer, just shrugged.
"What are you going to do? Try again tomorrow? Once more unto the boy." Smiling faintly, Oz looked in the direction Jonathan had gone.
"Tiger-imitating, brass cannons and all. Tomorrow morning."
_______________
Tucker had caught up with Jonathan.
"Yeah, that wasn't nice." Jonathan stopped, and glared at him.
"What? Listening in on my conversations?"
"No, that Oz guy. The way he was treating you. That was lame, dude."
"What d'you mean?"
"Pretending to be interested. He'll be laughing about it now. Getting those guys to knock you over, so you could show him what a geek you are." Jonathan thought about it. Oz was popular, after all. There was a direct correlation between popularity and meanness; aside from outliers like Tucker, who had to be lying, didn't he?
"Don't be such a penis-head. Why would he?"
"It's high-school. Why wouldn't he be? Have you ever had one moment's happiness here? High school is a tool devised by the government, so that the rest of our life ends up looking good to us, however screwed up it is." He had a point.
"Nah."
"So, why do you think he wanted to talk to you?"
"Uh," Okay, so Jonathan couldn't actually think of a reason, immediately. But there had to be one, a good one, that made sense, and didn't involve...
"I know; he likes you! The two of you should date. You'd make the perfect couple. Short and Shorter." Tucker doubled up in laughter at his own joke. Lame.
"Very funny. So funny I'm laughing in such a high register you can't hear me." Tucker continued snickering. Then he stopped.
"Hey, that could be what he's doing. He thinks you're gay, so he's trying to come on to you to force you out of the closet and then everyone will laugh at you. That's gotta be it."
"Suuure. Cos, I'm just so gay."
"Just you wait and see."
"Whatever." The bell rang, signifying another round of mindlessly numbing regurgitated pap. Until school would get out, and he'd have to go home, do unnecessary homework, designed to sap the spirit, and ensure that he learned nothing of value that day. And then, of course, he'd have to do it all again tomorrow. Marvin the Paranoid Android had definitely had the right idea. Jonathan spent the rest of the day drawing scenes from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy on his textbooks.
The next morning Jonathan found himself at Tucker's door, ringing the bell. Tucker greeted him, with his usual graciousness and enthusiasm.
"What are you doing here?"
"Apparently I have to take your little brother to his school. My Mom says he's being bullied, and needs an escort. So, shouldn't you be doing that?"
"No."
"Why not? He's your insane brother."
"Because, lame-ass, if I let Andrew get beat up, my Mom will just be glad of a bit of quiet. Your Mom will ground you until Thanksgiving ... 2006"
"There is a certain logic to your position. Where is he?"
"Millennium Falcon." Jonathan groaned. It was going to be one of those days. A small boy ran out the door, nearly knocking Tucker over. Tucker punched him, and Andrew looked about to cry; then, seeing Jonathan, he beamed.
"Yoda!" Tucker, who had been looking extremely unpleasant, grinned.
"Yeah, he's got you right. Short and wrinkled, like most people's..."
"Shut-up, dorkears."
"I'm not the one with long, green ears, dude. Anyway, I'm off."
"Aren't you going to walk with us?"
"With him? I'd rather date Hillary Clinton. Maybe I would anyway, for Clinton to stick with her, maybe she's got something; ya could turn the lights out."
"Yeah, she's got something. Money and influence."
"Oh, yeah." Tucker shrugged and left them. Jonathan turned to Andrew.
"I'll walk with you, but you pretend you're not with me if we see anyone I know, and you're Andrew, not Luke or Chewbacca or anyone. Got it?"
"Yeah." Andrew looked downcast for a second, but cheered up almost immediately. He ran ahead of Jonathan for a second, then turned back. Why didn't his parents get him Ritalin or something? Andrew was weird.
"So, what are we doing after school? You could come over, we could hide from Tucker, he could be Darth Vader and we have to avoid him, or we could watch something or play D&D." Jonathan was about to explain that between playing after school with a kid a bit more than two years younger than him, and acting ten years younger, and doing, well basically anything, there was no contest, when he saw Oz. Who was waving at Jonathan, and walking over to join him. Andrew, of course, did not pretend he was nothing to do with Jonathan. He chose that moment to forget every instruction ever given to him, and turned to Oz.
"I'm Luke Skywalker, I'm here to rescue you." Jonathan wondered if there was any home he could put Andrew into, just for the next thirty or sixty years, until he grew up. He turned to Oz apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I don't know him." He turned to Andrew.
"The next line is 'You're who?' and is entirely fitting, you little worm." He realized after he said it that that wasn't the best way of demonstrating he didn't know Andrew, who pouted and wandered off. Oz smiled.
"Princess Leia? I'd have to do something about the hair. What do you think?" Jonathan swallowed his embarrassment.
"The clothing might be a bit difficult too."
"It could suit me." Jonathan stared, picturing Oz in Princess Leia costume. He laughed.
"Maybe not."
"Not very fetching, you think. You're probably right." Oz smiled at Jonathan, who suddenly recognized that Oz might conceivably, possibly be flirting with him. Tucker was right. This was bad.
"Not fetching at all. Very un-fetching. Because you're a boy, and I'm not gay. Very much not with the gay. I like girls. Because they're girls. And not boys." He left. Damn Oz for trying to make a fool out of him. He hadn't succeeded at least.
______________
That was blunt. No mixed messages there. Oz looked at Devon, who'd heard at least part of the outburst. Devon clapped him on the back, clumsily, but consolingly, and they walked the rest of the way to school. It could have been worse. Jonathan could have blurted that speech out when they were kissing for the first time, or possibly when they were in bed. No, this was good. Devon looked sidelong at him.
"So chicks?" Oz nodded.
"Chicks."