(no subject)
Title: "Nothing Gold Can Stay"
Author: Amanda
Rating: PG
Pairing: Impending Dugera.
Genre: One-shot high school ficlet.
A/N: Dedicated to Maddy for keeping my Dugera love alive in times of distress and Rissa for just being awesome, and of course Rio and Nic and Leah for being rad anyway. Didn't happen, 'tis fiction, and before anyone comments with "continue this!", there'll be no sequel. I'm too busy trying to finish the last chapter of OOMA as well as try and pound out some Dunnovak for me and Maddy's kink-table.
First thought through his mind was Fuck, he looks good in sunlight. And it was true; the splashes of bright sunlight trickling through the mini-blinds threw silhouettes of prison bars across his freckle-kissed skin, the faint tan and reddish-gold hair, the storm-colored eyes given new life when they looked up from the spiral notebook he was writing in. He smirked a little, arched a brow.
“Bam.”
Bright blue eyes blinked in surprise at hearing his name and he refocused, staring at his brother’s best friend across the length of the kitchen table. There was a stack of schoolbooks between them, Jess’s notebook abandoned because he’d gone to the basement to find out if there were beers in the downstairs fridge they could drink without Ape and Phil noticing. Ryan had his chin propped on his hand, copying lines from his history book onto the notebook paper with an absent expression on his face, a faint hint of amusement on his lips when he glanced over at Jess’s little brother and caught him staring.
“Uh, yeah, man. Are you any good at biology?” Bam asked, trying to play cool, twirling the pencil between his fingertips. He was trying not to act like his usual hyperactive attention-seeking self; ADHD had been put on the backburner because Jess had warned him about scaring off his friends. Jess’s friends were always chill and cool, probably because they were all three or four years older than Bam. Most of them, Ted and Deron and Art, would barely give him the time of day, treating him like a tagalong if Jess let him come with him to the mall or sit in on band practice. The only real exceptions were Dico, who acted like a ten year old on speed most of the time, and Ryan, who was just too laidback to care that Bam was several years younger than he was. For that, Bam liked him a lot; Dunn had this tranquil vibe about him, like you could tell him anything and he’d take it in stride, like he’d never be the one to start a fight but would always have your back if you got in one. Bam liked that feeling. He knew he wasn’t as mature as most of the seniors his brother palled around with, but he was trying to impress them; he was an outcast in his own grade, longhaired and a little chubby, listening to Black Sabbath and Iggy Pop on his headphones and prankcalling classmates and cutting class to go skateboarding. He was bored with school; the only good thing about it was A/V class, which was the one intermediate period he shared with Jess and some of his friends, and how he’d met Ryan when the new boy had moved from Ohio a few weeks ago.
Ryan laughed, shook his head. “Dude, the extent of my science skills goes to knowing where babies come from,” he grinned, twirling the pencil in his hands. He had such cool hands, although Bam would never tell him; Dunn was in auto-shop, and burned his fingers on radiators, bit his nails to the quick, smoked, fell often and caught himself on concrete curbs with his hands. As a result, his fingers were rough, palms always scraped, knuckles scarred from fights and wounds alike, and there was usually a cigarette burning between them unless they were inside someone’s house and their parents didn’t allow smoking. “Sorry. Maybe Rake can help you, you should have him check that shit over when you’re done. He’s supposed to come over later anyway to help Jess study for that chemistry test.”
“I’ll ask him,” Bam said, then shifted, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor of the kitchen. He bit the inside of his lip, squirmed again, fidgeting with his notebook. Ryan ignored the rustling, shifting sounds for a few moments, then looked up, sighed good-naturedly.
“What now?” he asked, raising a brow.
“I’m bored,” Bam announced, scrunching his nose. “And done with studying. You wanna, like, go see if Jess found the beers?”
“I think he went down there and passed out,” Ryan laughed. “He’s been gone for-fucking-ever.”
“He probably called his girlfriend and they’re down there having phone sex or something,” Bam grinned, making a face. “Fuckin’ sick, dude.”
Ryan smirked. “I don’t wanna think about your bro jerking off on the phone, and neither should you,” he remarked, shaking his head.
“I don’t!” Bam protested. “Ew.” He grimaced, glanced down at his homework again, shut the notebook. He really was done; he couldn’t do things in a big long span of time. Little short bursts of energy were more his style, which was why he was failing most of his classes and was considering dropping out even though he was only a sophomore. Skating was his life; he didn’t want to do much else anyway, and couldn’t figure out how sitting every day for another two and a half years in a desk being preached at about shit no one really cared about in the first place was going to make him more of a success in life.
“You’re gonna fail your test,” Ryan said absently, still copying his notes.
“I can’t help it,” Bam said dramatically, shaking his head. “I don’t have any incentive.”
Ryan looked up, grinned. “That’s a big word for you, Bam-Bam.”
“Shut up,” Bam muttered, flipping the pencil through his fingers idly. “I don’t want to study.”
Ryan sighed, looked up, set his pen down. “Do you want me to try and help you?”
“I just can’t keep the shit straight,” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “I can’t focus, it’s too much crap all at once.”
“Break it down,” Ryan advised, then pushed his chair back, got up, circled the table to stand behind Bam. Bam tried not to notice the tight, faded jeans with the knees ripped out that Dunn was wearing, or the snug black long-sleeved shirt that showed his muscular build. His hair was very short, almost buzzed, which made him look like some asshole jock; Bam thought it’d look better longer and maybe with some facial hair to offset his baby face. Dunn didn’t look seventeen; he looked like a very buff freshman. Probably the pug nose with freckles on it; you couldn’t be manly and sport freckles, in Bam’s opinion.
Dunn leaned over Bam, reading the chapter in the textbook that was giving him so much trouble, and then exhaled. “Shit. I remember some of this from my bio class. Hang on, let me think.” He furrowed his brows, both hands braced on the back of Bam’s chair, trying to remember what he’d been taught about plants. Bam looked over his shoulder at him, unable to stop staring at the broad, muscled shoulders under the tight shirt, wondering if his brother would ditch him altogether if he admitted that half the time he made out with the chick from the skateshop, Jenn, he was thinking about some of Jess’s friends. Okay, that was a lie; not some of Jess’s friends. He had no interest in Deron or Dico or Rake or Art; it was this guy behind him, who, if he ever cleared six feet, could be on the school’s wrestling team, who could diagnose a bad carburetor without ever popping the hood of a car, who could sing Johnny Cash and Slayer songs equally well and watched The Discovery Channel and drank more than anyone Bam had ever met but never lost his cool. Who hung out with his friend’s little brother and didn’t make him feel stupid or unwanted like the other guys did.
“Thanks,” Bam said suddenly, causing Ryan to snap out of his thoughtful trance and blink in surprise.
“Thanks for what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Just, y’know,” he said, shrugging uncomfortably, glancing down at the closed notebook in front of him. “For being so cool with me, and not treating me like I’m some annoying kid brother.”
“You’re annoying as hell,” Dunn admitted, one hand ruffling Bam’s hair because he knew it drove the skater crazy in the bad way. “But you’re also a hell of a lot more fun than your stoner brother sometimes.”
“So you’re like, with that chick from school, right?” Bam asked to change the subject, fumbling for a good topic. He’d heard Jess telling their mom about it; Ryan was with a girl who treated him like shit, cheated on him, took him for granted. And he was too blind to see most of it, treated her like she was a princess, defended her to the death even though she was smoking cock in the locker room every afternoon.
“Lauren, yeah,” Ryan said, scratching his short hair a little awkwardly. “I dunno, shit’s not going so good with that, but yeah.”
“Do you think it’s possible to like, really like someone but not want to go for it?” Bam asked, not looking up from the notebook.
“What do you mean?” Dunn asked, tilting his head a little.
“You know, like, you really dig someone, but you know that if you go for it, it’s gonna fuck everything up with you? Like, what if you’re friends and you want to kiss them or something, but like, you’ve never done shit like that before, so you just don’t because you don’t want to make shit weird?”
Bam knew he was rambling and not making a lot of sense, but when he looked up, Dunn looked deep in thought, a million miles away, his dark gray-blue eyes on Bam.
“Yeah,” he said finally, quietly. “I know what you mean. You don’t wanna fuck up the friendship by doing something that they might not be into.”
“Exactly,” Bam said, nodding.
Dunn nodded again, then let go of Bam’s chair, circled around the table again, started closing his textbooks. He shoved them into his black backpack, his notebook and pen following suit.
“Where you going?” Bam asked, alarmed that he’d said something wrong.
“I gotta get going,” Ryan said, scratching his short hair again, biting the inside of his lip.
“Okay,” Bam said, his face still tight with concern. This was all he needed; Dunn would tell Jess that his little brother was some kind of fag, hitting on him, and Jess would cuss him out, refuse to give him rides anywhere, not let him hang with his friends anymore. And Bam would go back to being the nobody at their high school, the introverted weird kid who edited video clips and listened to death rock by himself.
Ryan shouldered his backpack, then looked at Bam for a long moment. “I think,” he said finally, hesitantly, “sometimes it’s a good idea to not go for the things you want just because it feels like it might be a good thing right then, you know? Because later on might be a better time, you know, when you’ve both had time to think about it and figure out what you want.”
He turned to head out the kitchen door. “Tell Jess if he ever comes back that I’m sorry I had to split, but that I’ll call him later or see him tomorrow in homeroom.”
“Okay,” Bam repeated, looking down at his notebook again.
“Hey Bam?” Ryan asked, and Bam looked up, saw him standing in the doorway. Once again, he was struck by how good Dunn looked in sunlight, how natural, like he was a creature actually made to exist in a world that didn’t consist of smog and big buildings and cable TV. All he needed was a stereo, an old clunker car, and a cabin in the woods and he’d be content for the rest of his life.
“Don’t think so much about it,” he said with a faint lopsided grin, his hand braced on the doorknob. “You’ve still got a lot of growing up to do, and I don’t plan on running off before I get to see what a jerkoff you become when you do.”
He shut the door behind him, and Bam waited until he was sure he was gone before getting up from the table, grabbing his biology book, and heading across the kitchen. The basement door opened and Jess was standing there, his cell phone in hand, a guilty expression on his face which faded when he saw his little brother.
“Where you going, Bamfuck?” he asked, obviously looking around for Ryan.
“He left,” Bam supplied, “and I’m going outside. It’s a really nice day, and I just kinda want to feel the sunlight.”
Author: Amanda
Rating: PG
Pairing: Impending Dugera.
Genre: One-shot high school ficlet.
A/N: Dedicated to Maddy for keeping my Dugera love alive in times of distress and Rissa for just being awesome, and of course Rio and Nic and Leah for being rad anyway. Didn't happen, 'tis fiction, and before anyone comments with "continue this!", there'll be no sequel. I'm too busy trying to finish the last chapter of OOMA as well as try and pound out some Dunnovak for me and Maddy's kink-table.
First thought through his mind was Fuck, he looks good in sunlight. And it was true; the splashes of bright sunlight trickling through the mini-blinds threw silhouettes of prison bars across his freckle-kissed skin, the faint tan and reddish-gold hair, the storm-colored eyes given new life when they looked up from the spiral notebook he was writing in. He smirked a little, arched a brow.
“Bam.”
Bright blue eyes blinked in surprise at hearing his name and he refocused, staring at his brother’s best friend across the length of the kitchen table. There was a stack of schoolbooks between them, Jess’s notebook abandoned because he’d gone to the basement to find out if there were beers in the downstairs fridge they could drink without Ape and Phil noticing. Ryan had his chin propped on his hand, copying lines from his history book onto the notebook paper with an absent expression on his face, a faint hint of amusement on his lips when he glanced over at Jess’s little brother and caught him staring.
“Uh, yeah, man. Are you any good at biology?” Bam asked, trying to play cool, twirling the pencil between his fingertips. He was trying not to act like his usual hyperactive attention-seeking self; ADHD had been put on the backburner because Jess had warned him about scaring off his friends. Jess’s friends were always chill and cool, probably because they were all three or four years older than Bam. Most of them, Ted and Deron and Art, would barely give him the time of day, treating him like a tagalong if Jess let him come with him to the mall or sit in on band practice. The only real exceptions were Dico, who acted like a ten year old on speed most of the time, and Ryan, who was just too laidback to care that Bam was several years younger than he was. For that, Bam liked him a lot; Dunn had this tranquil vibe about him, like you could tell him anything and he’d take it in stride, like he’d never be the one to start a fight but would always have your back if you got in one. Bam liked that feeling. He knew he wasn’t as mature as most of the seniors his brother palled around with, but he was trying to impress them; he was an outcast in his own grade, longhaired and a little chubby, listening to Black Sabbath and Iggy Pop on his headphones and prankcalling classmates and cutting class to go skateboarding. He was bored with school; the only good thing about it was A/V class, which was the one intermediate period he shared with Jess and some of his friends, and how he’d met Ryan when the new boy had moved from Ohio a few weeks ago.
Ryan laughed, shook his head. “Dude, the extent of my science skills goes to knowing where babies come from,” he grinned, twirling the pencil in his hands. He had such cool hands, although Bam would never tell him; Dunn was in auto-shop, and burned his fingers on radiators, bit his nails to the quick, smoked, fell often and caught himself on concrete curbs with his hands. As a result, his fingers were rough, palms always scraped, knuckles scarred from fights and wounds alike, and there was usually a cigarette burning between them unless they were inside someone’s house and their parents didn’t allow smoking. “Sorry. Maybe Rake can help you, you should have him check that shit over when you’re done. He’s supposed to come over later anyway to help Jess study for that chemistry test.”
“I’ll ask him,” Bam said, then shifted, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor of the kitchen. He bit the inside of his lip, squirmed again, fidgeting with his notebook. Ryan ignored the rustling, shifting sounds for a few moments, then looked up, sighed good-naturedly.
“What now?” he asked, raising a brow.
“I’m bored,” Bam announced, scrunching his nose. “And done with studying. You wanna, like, go see if Jess found the beers?”
“I think he went down there and passed out,” Ryan laughed. “He’s been gone for-fucking-ever.”
“He probably called his girlfriend and they’re down there having phone sex or something,” Bam grinned, making a face. “Fuckin’ sick, dude.”
Ryan smirked. “I don’t wanna think about your bro jerking off on the phone, and neither should you,” he remarked, shaking his head.
“I don’t!” Bam protested. “Ew.” He grimaced, glanced down at his homework again, shut the notebook. He really was done; he couldn’t do things in a big long span of time. Little short bursts of energy were more his style, which was why he was failing most of his classes and was considering dropping out even though he was only a sophomore. Skating was his life; he didn’t want to do much else anyway, and couldn’t figure out how sitting every day for another two and a half years in a desk being preached at about shit no one really cared about in the first place was going to make him more of a success in life.
“You’re gonna fail your test,” Ryan said absently, still copying his notes.
“I can’t help it,” Bam said dramatically, shaking his head. “I don’t have any incentive.”
Ryan looked up, grinned. “That’s a big word for you, Bam-Bam.”
“Shut up,” Bam muttered, flipping the pencil through his fingers idly. “I don’t want to study.”
Ryan sighed, looked up, set his pen down. “Do you want me to try and help you?”
“I just can’t keep the shit straight,” he said, shaking his head in frustration. “I can’t focus, it’s too much crap all at once.”
“Break it down,” Ryan advised, then pushed his chair back, got up, circled the table to stand behind Bam. Bam tried not to notice the tight, faded jeans with the knees ripped out that Dunn was wearing, or the snug black long-sleeved shirt that showed his muscular build. His hair was very short, almost buzzed, which made him look like some asshole jock; Bam thought it’d look better longer and maybe with some facial hair to offset his baby face. Dunn didn’t look seventeen; he looked like a very buff freshman. Probably the pug nose with freckles on it; you couldn’t be manly and sport freckles, in Bam’s opinion.
Dunn leaned over Bam, reading the chapter in the textbook that was giving him so much trouble, and then exhaled. “Shit. I remember some of this from my bio class. Hang on, let me think.” He furrowed his brows, both hands braced on the back of Bam’s chair, trying to remember what he’d been taught about plants. Bam looked over his shoulder at him, unable to stop staring at the broad, muscled shoulders under the tight shirt, wondering if his brother would ditch him altogether if he admitted that half the time he made out with the chick from the skateshop, Jenn, he was thinking about some of Jess’s friends. Okay, that was a lie; not some of Jess’s friends. He had no interest in Deron or Dico or Rake or Art; it was this guy behind him, who, if he ever cleared six feet, could be on the school’s wrestling team, who could diagnose a bad carburetor without ever popping the hood of a car, who could sing Johnny Cash and Slayer songs equally well and watched The Discovery Channel and drank more than anyone Bam had ever met but never lost his cool. Who hung out with his friend’s little brother and didn’t make him feel stupid or unwanted like the other guys did.
“Thanks,” Bam said suddenly, causing Ryan to snap out of his thoughtful trance and blink in surprise.
“Thanks for what?” he asked, puzzled.
“Just, y’know,” he said, shrugging uncomfortably, glancing down at the closed notebook in front of him. “For being so cool with me, and not treating me like I’m some annoying kid brother.”
“You’re annoying as hell,” Dunn admitted, one hand ruffling Bam’s hair because he knew it drove the skater crazy in the bad way. “But you’re also a hell of a lot more fun than your stoner brother sometimes.”
“So you’re like, with that chick from school, right?” Bam asked to change the subject, fumbling for a good topic. He’d heard Jess telling their mom about it; Ryan was with a girl who treated him like shit, cheated on him, took him for granted. And he was too blind to see most of it, treated her like she was a princess, defended her to the death even though she was smoking cock in the locker room every afternoon.
“Lauren, yeah,” Ryan said, scratching his short hair a little awkwardly. “I dunno, shit’s not going so good with that, but yeah.”
“Do you think it’s possible to like, really like someone but not want to go for it?” Bam asked, not looking up from the notebook.
“What do you mean?” Dunn asked, tilting his head a little.
“You know, like, you really dig someone, but you know that if you go for it, it’s gonna fuck everything up with you? Like, what if you’re friends and you want to kiss them or something, but like, you’ve never done shit like that before, so you just don’t because you don’t want to make shit weird?”
Bam knew he was rambling and not making a lot of sense, but when he looked up, Dunn looked deep in thought, a million miles away, his dark gray-blue eyes on Bam.
“Yeah,” he said finally, quietly. “I know what you mean. You don’t wanna fuck up the friendship by doing something that they might not be into.”
“Exactly,” Bam said, nodding.
Dunn nodded again, then let go of Bam’s chair, circled around the table again, started closing his textbooks. He shoved them into his black backpack, his notebook and pen following suit.
“Where you going?” Bam asked, alarmed that he’d said something wrong.
“I gotta get going,” Ryan said, scratching his short hair again, biting the inside of his lip.
“Okay,” Bam said, his face still tight with concern. This was all he needed; Dunn would tell Jess that his little brother was some kind of fag, hitting on him, and Jess would cuss him out, refuse to give him rides anywhere, not let him hang with his friends anymore. And Bam would go back to being the nobody at their high school, the introverted weird kid who edited video clips and listened to death rock by himself.
Ryan shouldered his backpack, then looked at Bam for a long moment. “I think,” he said finally, hesitantly, “sometimes it’s a good idea to not go for the things you want just because it feels like it might be a good thing right then, you know? Because later on might be a better time, you know, when you’ve both had time to think about it and figure out what you want.”
He turned to head out the kitchen door. “Tell Jess if he ever comes back that I’m sorry I had to split, but that I’ll call him later or see him tomorrow in homeroom.”
“Okay,” Bam repeated, looking down at his notebook again.
“Hey Bam?” Ryan asked, and Bam looked up, saw him standing in the doorway. Once again, he was struck by how good Dunn looked in sunlight, how natural, like he was a creature actually made to exist in a world that didn’t consist of smog and big buildings and cable TV. All he needed was a stereo, an old clunker car, and a cabin in the woods and he’d be content for the rest of his life.
“Don’t think so much about it,” he said with a faint lopsided grin, his hand braced on the doorknob. “You’ve still got a lot of growing up to do, and I don’t plan on running off before I get to see what a jerkoff you become when you do.”
He shut the door behind him, and Bam waited until he was sure he was gone before getting up from the table, grabbing his biology book, and heading across the kitchen. The basement door opened and Jess was standing there, his cell phone in hand, a guilty expression on his face which faded when he saw his little brother.
“Where you going, Bamfuck?” he asked, obviously looking around for Ryan.
“He left,” Bam supplied, “and I’m going outside. It’s a really nice day, and I just kinda want to feel the sunlight.”