Let Me Know He Cares - Fletcher/Jones - Chapter 3
Title: Let Me Know He Cares
Author: valquiris
Part: 3/?
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and sexual situations
Pairing: Fletcher/Jones
Genre: Romance
Summary: Danny, on the other hand, was completely different. The moment he turned around smiling to help him find his classes was when it clicked for Tom. That was when he knew he’d found a friend.
A/N: Again, thanks for the comments! I, apparently, have way too much time in my hands. I just can't stop writing this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
Chapter 1 || Chapter 2
The sunlight slipped through the tiniest crack between the curtains and flashed its splendor over Tom’s eyelids, irritating them. He turned over on his side to avoid the sudden intrusion, and he opened his eyes. His gaze immediately fell on the pile of gold tokens on the bedside table, and the past week that he and Danny shared together flashed through his mind. He dwelled on it for some time.
Now that Tom thought about it, he had developed a strong bond with Danny. Friendship for him usually took a long time back in Harrow, as he could never seem to trust anyone. Some of his “friends” always talked about him behind his back, he finally discovered after somebody had told him, calling him fat and ugly and all of those degrading words children label to those whom they didn’t like. To be quite honest, Tom was glad he was out of Harrow. Yes, the neighbors were nice and welcoming, but at the same time the children were monstrously cruel.
Danny, on the other hand, was completely different. The moment he turned around smiling to help him find his classes was when it clicked for Tom. That was when he knew he’d found a friend. A real friend. He didn’t know how he knew, but what he did know was that there was something about Danny, something that was twice as warm and welcoming as the neighbors back in Harrow. Is it his smile? he asked himself again as he lifted a hand to brush his hair away from his face to get a better view of the tokens. What is it about him that makes me feel like I’m… wanted? He closed his eyes and desperately tried to find the answer. What ran through his mind, however, were images of Danny smiling and laughing, involuntarily making Tom form a smile. It is his smile…
He opened his eyes and once again gazed at the gleaming tokens, for the sunlight had moved past him and settled on the bedside table. Moving along, though, his eyes fell on the digital clock right next to the pile. His eyes widened at the sight before him: 7:58 flashing in red against the black background. Late! Late! Laaaaaaaaaate! Class starts in twenty-two minutes!
He immediately jumped off his bed, ripped off his pajamas on the way to the bathroom, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth while he picked his clothes, slipped them on, looked at himself in the mirror, fixed his hair, grabbed his bag from the rack near the door, sped downstairs, and closed the door behind him. He looked at his watch. Getting ready burned off fifteen minutes. He only had seven minutes to get to school. Taking a deep breath, he rocketed off along the sidewalk.
He approached the threshold of the school with two minutes to spare, and he pushed the double doors open. The hall was already bustling with activity; masses of students and teachers criss-crossed each other, some contorting this way and that way to avoid being hit.
He slipped through the tiny crevices that separated groups, cursing to himself after getting bumped about a hundred times. Fucking student traffic, move! He started pushing people aside to make room for him to go through; some yelled “hey, what’s the big idea?!” and “what the fuck’s your problem?!” He ignored every single remark and reached his class with a minute to spare.
He ambled over next to Danny, who was keeping himself occupied by fiddling with a lock of his hair, and collapsed on his desk. Danny stopped what he was doing and reached a hand to shake Tom’s shoulder, who groaned in response.
“What’s wrong, mate?” said Danny, a wide grin appearing on his face. “You look like you’ve been in a marathon or something.” At that moment, the bell rang, and students flooded the room like a leak in a dam, taking their mixed conversations with them, creating a sea of gibberish noise that plucked every nerve in Tom’s body. He lifted his head up and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. Madame LaCroix entered the room with a stack of papers clutched tightly in her hands and the noise slowly died down. When everyone was silent, she isolated half of the papers and set the rest on her desk.
“Ze finals. You ‘ave ze whole class to do zis. Zis counts for half of your overall grade in zis class, so write down your answers correctly. I will not accept misspellings.” After her speech, she proceeded to pass the papers out. Upon receiving his, Tom wasted no time answering the questions. He had studied the day before and he sighed with relief when he discovered that the questions were easy. He jotted down answer after answer with quick succession, carefully placing the right accent marks over the letters that needed them. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Danny staring at him, mouth agape, and it made him smile. Twenty minutes later, he had finished all three pages of the test and flipped it face down on his desk. He turned to Danny, who was twirling his pen with his fingers, his gaze fixed on the paper, concentrating hard. He pulled out The Catcher in the Rye, opened it to the page indicated by his bookmark, which was a little strip of paper with “The Beatles” scribbled all over, and continued reading where he left off.
It took Danny the whole class to finish his test, and as he recited softly under his breath the word “fourchette,” the bell rang, causing the students to jump out of their seats, slam their papers on Madame’s desk, and walk out of the room. To Tom’s surprise, the first one out of the room was Danny. This struck him as odd because he and Danny usually left last. Curious about his destination, Tom quickly followed him.
Peeking around a corner, he saw Danny rounded on by Cole and his lackeys, Jack and Jimmy, his back against the bathroom door. Cole was talking to him, but Tom couldn’t hear what he were saying. Cole was easily much taller and larger than Danny, being the captain of the rugby team, with a buzz cut and wild green eyes. Jack was a centimeter taller than Danny, and was usually Cole’s backup muscle. Jimmy was the shortest, his head only reaching the base of Jack’s neck, and was usually the comic relief of the group-well, to Cole anyway.
Tom let out a soft gasp when Cole snatched Danny’s arm and began yelling at him. Jack pushed the bathroom door open and stood aside just in time to avoid collision with Danny as Cole threw him inside. All three slipped inside and slammed the door shut. Tom left his hiding spot and ran to the bathroom door. He grabbed the cold knob and tried to turn it.
“Shit,” he said under his breath when it didn’t budge. “It’s locked.” He pressed his ear against the door, wincing as his skin touched the cold surface. His eyes widened when he heard Cole yelling, Jack and Jimmy laughing, and Danny crying in pain. He stepped backward and raised his fists, ready to bang on the door, but before they could make contact, he heard Carla’s voice behind him.
“Well, it’s obviously locked, isn’t it?” she said matter-of-factly, flipping her red hair. “Come on! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We have to present right now and I’m not doing it alone.” She grabbed Tom’s arm and dragged him to their class, ignoring his protests. “You can go to the bathroom later! Now, stop fussing and let’s go!”
As they entered the classroom, Tom could see that their poster was already propped up against the board. For their final, the class had to congregate into groups of two and talk about the geography of a country. Carla didn’t hesitate to pair up with him and they both decided to do the geography of China, as Tom had always wanted to go there.
He fixed his gaze out the door, but after Carla snapped at him quietly, he turned his eyes to the class.
“Hello, everyone,” Carla said once the class had quieted down. “We’re doing a report on China.” And for the next fifteen minutes she recited what she’d written down on the piece of paper in her hands, occasionally turning to Tom, who nodded and smiled even though he had no idea what was happening. All he could think about was Danny.
Why did they pick on Danny? Out of all the people, they had to pick on him. Poor Danny. He must be so scared right now… I have to do something. Danny needs me and I have to do something. I have to do something now. Right now. Come on, Tom, you have to do something! Falling out of his stupor, he declared he had to go to the bathroom and ran out of the room, ignoring Carla’s cries (“What do you think you’re doing! Don’t leave me alone here!”)
He reached the bathroom door in no time and he didn’t hesitate to grab the knob and turned it forcefully. To his surprise, there was a soft click and the door swung open. He closed the door behind him, scanned the area, and widened his eyes at the sight before him. Danny was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the back wall, head buried in his arms, and hugging his knees. Tom could see bruises and red hand marks all over his arms and his hair was disheveled. Pounds were scattered on the floor around him, some already absorbing the wetness that came from God knows what.
Tom quickly darted to Danny’s side and laid a hand on his knee. Danny looked up and, to Tom’s horror, revealed more bruises on his cheeks and around his eyes. He didn’t seem to be in pain, though, as he had a nonchalant expression.
“What happened?” Tom blurted out, fixing Danny’s hair. He smiled widely.
“Oh, hello Tom,” he said, his smile never faltering as always.
“What are you talking about? Tell me what happened,” Tom pressed on, befuddled by his reply. Danny furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“What?” he asked, as he lifted his arms to look at them, still smiling. “This? Oh, nothing really. Cole’s just broken up with his gal and I guess he decided to take it out on me since I wanted to use the loo.” Tom was getting frustrated with him.
“Nothing?” he snapped, grabbing a part of Danny’s arm that wasn’t bruised and waving it in the air. “This is nothing? Danny, what the hell’s wrong with you? And why are you smiling?” Danny’s face relaxed and his smile disappeared as he looked into Tom’s eyes. He didn’t answer.
“I’ll just ask again later,” Tom said, releasing Danny’s arm. “Can you get up? Your bruises need attending to.” Danny tried to rise from the floor, but was unsuccessful, and he flopped on to Tom’s arms instead.
“I can’t. My legs hurt.” Did they kick him too? Bastards... He slid his arm around Danny’s waist (Danny wrapped his arms around his shoulders for support), and lifted him up with immense effort. He weighed more than Tom himself, and it took a good two minutes to get him on his feet. Immediately afterwards they made their way out the school, walking as slowly as possible as to not put pressure on Danny’s legs.
They arrived at Danny’s house after thirty minutes of walking, and after he set Danny on his bed, he flopped down next to him, burying his face in a pillow. Danny let out a loud laugh and rubbed Tom’s back.
“Stop it,” Tom demanded, huffing loudly, extremely tired from carrying Danny. “You weigh a thousand pounds!” Danny scratched his head and laughed even more. Tom groaned when he realized that his job wasn’t done yet. He lifted his head from the pillow.
“Where’s you refrigerator?” he asked, sliding out of the bed and on his feet. “Your bruises need ice.”
“In the kitchen,” Danny said simply with a giggle, his smile as strong as ever. Tom slipped out of the room, grabbed a kitchen towel, stuffed a few ice cubes in a depression he made with his fingers, twisted it close, and walked back into the room. Danny was tracing the bruises on his arms lightly with his finger. Tom jumped on the bed and replaced Danny’s finger with the ice he held in his hand, and Danny winced in pain.
He did this for about an hour, spending at least ten minutes on each bruise until the spot went numb. Afterwards, they spent their time watching comedy shows, laughing aloud at the people cracking unfunny jokes and getting faces full of pie.
As night replaced the light outside the windows, Tom looked over at Danny, whose eyes were closed and his fist pressed ever so lightly against his lips. Tom had never seen anything more serene and innocent in his life. He dared not disturb the perfection lying next to him, but he couldn’t help himself. He ran a hand along Danny’s cheek, avoiding the bruises along the way. The sudden stimulation made Danny smile in his sleep, and in turn made Tom smile.
What is this I’m feeling toward Danny? It’s more than friendship, I can tell… No, I shouldn’t think these things. He’s a guy for Christ’s sake. And plus, I have Giovanna… The last thought made him refrain his touch on Danny’s cheek. He had completely forgotten he had left behind his girlfriend back in Harrow. What a lousy boyfriend I am… he thought as he tore his gaze away from Danny and settle it out the window. First I forget I had a girlfriend, then I develop feelings for Danny, my best mate. No, it’s not true. It’s only friendship. That’s all…
He glanced at his watch. It’s late. I should go now. He slowly and carefully left the bed and closed the door behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Danny had his eyes slightly open the whole time, and a wide smile was appearing on his face, wider than he’s ever shown Tom.
Author: valquiris
Part: 3/?
Rating: PG-13 for language, violence, and sexual situations
Pairing: Fletcher/Jones
Genre: Romance
Summary: Danny, on the other hand, was completely different. The moment he turned around smiling to help him find his classes was when it clicked for Tom. That was when he knew he’d found a friend.
A/N: Again, thanks for the comments! I, apparently, have way too much time in my hands. I just can't stop writing this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own McFly in any way.
Chapter 1 || Chapter 2
The sunlight slipped through the tiniest crack between the curtains and flashed its splendor over Tom’s eyelids, irritating them. He turned over on his side to avoid the sudden intrusion, and he opened his eyes. His gaze immediately fell on the pile of gold tokens on the bedside table, and the past week that he and Danny shared together flashed through his mind. He dwelled on it for some time.
Now that Tom thought about it, he had developed a strong bond with Danny. Friendship for him usually took a long time back in Harrow, as he could never seem to trust anyone. Some of his “friends” always talked about him behind his back, he finally discovered after somebody had told him, calling him fat and ugly and all of those degrading words children label to those whom they didn’t like. To be quite honest, Tom was glad he was out of Harrow. Yes, the neighbors were nice and welcoming, but at the same time the children were monstrously cruel.
Danny, on the other hand, was completely different. The moment he turned around smiling to help him find his classes was when it clicked for Tom. That was when he knew he’d found a friend. A real friend. He didn’t know how he knew, but what he did know was that there was something about Danny, something that was twice as warm and welcoming as the neighbors back in Harrow. Is it his smile? he asked himself again as he lifted a hand to brush his hair away from his face to get a better view of the tokens. What is it about him that makes me feel like I’m… wanted? He closed his eyes and desperately tried to find the answer. What ran through his mind, however, were images of Danny smiling and laughing, involuntarily making Tom form a smile. It is his smile…
He opened his eyes and once again gazed at the gleaming tokens, for the sunlight had moved past him and settled on the bedside table. Moving along, though, his eyes fell on the digital clock right next to the pile. His eyes widened at the sight before him: 7:58 flashing in red against the black background. Late! Late! Laaaaaaaaaate! Class starts in twenty-two minutes!
He immediately jumped off his bed, ripped off his pajamas on the way to the bathroom, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth while he picked his clothes, slipped them on, looked at himself in the mirror, fixed his hair, grabbed his bag from the rack near the door, sped downstairs, and closed the door behind him. He looked at his watch. Getting ready burned off fifteen minutes. He only had seven minutes to get to school. Taking a deep breath, he rocketed off along the sidewalk.
He approached the threshold of the school with two minutes to spare, and he pushed the double doors open. The hall was already bustling with activity; masses of students and teachers criss-crossed each other, some contorting this way and that way to avoid being hit.
He slipped through the tiny crevices that separated groups, cursing to himself after getting bumped about a hundred times. Fucking student traffic, move! He started pushing people aside to make room for him to go through; some yelled “hey, what’s the big idea?!” and “what the fuck’s your problem?!” He ignored every single remark and reached his class with a minute to spare.
He ambled over next to Danny, who was keeping himself occupied by fiddling with a lock of his hair, and collapsed on his desk. Danny stopped what he was doing and reached a hand to shake Tom’s shoulder, who groaned in response.
“What’s wrong, mate?” said Danny, a wide grin appearing on his face. “You look like you’ve been in a marathon or something.” At that moment, the bell rang, and students flooded the room like a leak in a dam, taking their mixed conversations with them, creating a sea of gibberish noise that plucked every nerve in Tom’s body. He lifted his head up and wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. Madame LaCroix entered the room with a stack of papers clutched tightly in her hands and the noise slowly died down. When everyone was silent, she isolated half of the papers and set the rest on her desk.
“Ze finals. You ‘ave ze whole class to do zis. Zis counts for half of your overall grade in zis class, so write down your answers correctly. I will not accept misspellings.” After her speech, she proceeded to pass the papers out. Upon receiving his, Tom wasted no time answering the questions. He had studied the day before and he sighed with relief when he discovered that the questions were easy. He jotted down answer after answer with quick succession, carefully placing the right accent marks over the letters that needed them. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Danny staring at him, mouth agape, and it made him smile. Twenty minutes later, he had finished all three pages of the test and flipped it face down on his desk. He turned to Danny, who was twirling his pen with his fingers, his gaze fixed on the paper, concentrating hard. He pulled out The Catcher in the Rye, opened it to the page indicated by his bookmark, which was a little strip of paper with “The Beatles” scribbled all over, and continued reading where he left off.
It took Danny the whole class to finish his test, and as he recited softly under his breath the word “fourchette,” the bell rang, causing the students to jump out of their seats, slam their papers on Madame’s desk, and walk out of the room. To Tom’s surprise, the first one out of the room was Danny. This struck him as odd because he and Danny usually left last. Curious about his destination, Tom quickly followed him.
Peeking around a corner, he saw Danny rounded on by Cole and his lackeys, Jack and Jimmy, his back against the bathroom door. Cole was talking to him, but Tom couldn’t hear what he were saying. Cole was easily much taller and larger than Danny, being the captain of the rugby team, with a buzz cut and wild green eyes. Jack was a centimeter taller than Danny, and was usually Cole’s backup muscle. Jimmy was the shortest, his head only reaching the base of Jack’s neck, and was usually the comic relief of the group-well, to Cole anyway.
Tom let out a soft gasp when Cole snatched Danny’s arm and began yelling at him. Jack pushed the bathroom door open and stood aside just in time to avoid collision with Danny as Cole threw him inside. All three slipped inside and slammed the door shut. Tom left his hiding spot and ran to the bathroom door. He grabbed the cold knob and tried to turn it.
“Shit,” he said under his breath when it didn’t budge. “It’s locked.” He pressed his ear against the door, wincing as his skin touched the cold surface. His eyes widened when he heard Cole yelling, Jack and Jimmy laughing, and Danny crying in pain. He stepped backward and raised his fists, ready to bang on the door, but before they could make contact, he heard Carla’s voice behind him.
“Well, it’s obviously locked, isn’t it?” she said matter-of-factly, flipping her red hair. “Come on! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! We have to present right now and I’m not doing it alone.” She grabbed Tom’s arm and dragged him to their class, ignoring his protests. “You can go to the bathroom later! Now, stop fussing and let’s go!”
As they entered the classroom, Tom could see that their poster was already propped up against the board. For their final, the class had to congregate into groups of two and talk about the geography of a country. Carla didn’t hesitate to pair up with him and they both decided to do the geography of China, as Tom had always wanted to go there.
He fixed his gaze out the door, but after Carla snapped at him quietly, he turned his eyes to the class.
“Hello, everyone,” Carla said once the class had quieted down. “We’re doing a report on China.” And for the next fifteen minutes she recited what she’d written down on the piece of paper in her hands, occasionally turning to Tom, who nodded and smiled even though he had no idea what was happening. All he could think about was Danny.
Why did they pick on Danny? Out of all the people, they had to pick on him. Poor Danny. He must be so scared right now… I have to do something. Danny needs me and I have to do something. I have to do something now. Right now. Come on, Tom, you have to do something! Falling out of his stupor, he declared he had to go to the bathroom and ran out of the room, ignoring Carla’s cries (“What do you think you’re doing! Don’t leave me alone here!”)
He reached the bathroom door in no time and he didn’t hesitate to grab the knob and turned it forcefully. To his surprise, there was a soft click and the door swung open. He closed the door behind him, scanned the area, and widened his eyes at the sight before him. Danny was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the back wall, head buried in his arms, and hugging his knees. Tom could see bruises and red hand marks all over his arms and his hair was disheveled. Pounds were scattered on the floor around him, some already absorbing the wetness that came from God knows what.
Tom quickly darted to Danny’s side and laid a hand on his knee. Danny looked up and, to Tom’s horror, revealed more bruises on his cheeks and around his eyes. He didn’t seem to be in pain, though, as he had a nonchalant expression.
“What happened?” Tom blurted out, fixing Danny’s hair. He smiled widely.
“Oh, hello Tom,” he said, his smile never faltering as always.
“What are you talking about? Tell me what happened,” Tom pressed on, befuddled by his reply. Danny furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.
“What?” he asked, as he lifted his arms to look at them, still smiling. “This? Oh, nothing really. Cole’s just broken up with his gal and I guess he decided to take it out on me since I wanted to use the loo.” Tom was getting frustrated with him.
“Nothing?” he snapped, grabbing a part of Danny’s arm that wasn’t bruised and waving it in the air. “This is nothing? Danny, what the hell’s wrong with you? And why are you smiling?” Danny’s face relaxed and his smile disappeared as he looked into Tom’s eyes. He didn’t answer.
“I’ll just ask again later,” Tom said, releasing Danny’s arm. “Can you get up? Your bruises need attending to.” Danny tried to rise from the floor, but was unsuccessful, and he flopped on to Tom’s arms instead.
“I can’t. My legs hurt.” Did they kick him too? Bastards... He slid his arm around Danny’s waist (Danny wrapped his arms around his shoulders for support), and lifted him up with immense effort. He weighed more than Tom himself, and it took a good two minutes to get him on his feet. Immediately afterwards they made their way out the school, walking as slowly as possible as to not put pressure on Danny’s legs.
They arrived at Danny’s house after thirty minutes of walking, and after he set Danny on his bed, he flopped down next to him, burying his face in a pillow. Danny let out a loud laugh and rubbed Tom’s back.
“Stop it,” Tom demanded, huffing loudly, extremely tired from carrying Danny. “You weigh a thousand pounds!” Danny scratched his head and laughed even more. Tom groaned when he realized that his job wasn’t done yet. He lifted his head from the pillow.
“Where’s you refrigerator?” he asked, sliding out of the bed and on his feet. “Your bruises need ice.”
“In the kitchen,” Danny said simply with a giggle, his smile as strong as ever. Tom slipped out of the room, grabbed a kitchen towel, stuffed a few ice cubes in a depression he made with his fingers, twisted it close, and walked back into the room. Danny was tracing the bruises on his arms lightly with his finger. Tom jumped on the bed and replaced Danny’s finger with the ice he held in his hand, and Danny winced in pain.
He did this for about an hour, spending at least ten minutes on each bruise until the spot went numb. Afterwards, they spent their time watching comedy shows, laughing aloud at the people cracking unfunny jokes and getting faces full of pie.
As night replaced the light outside the windows, Tom looked over at Danny, whose eyes were closed and his fist pressed ever so lightly against his lips. Tom had never seen anything more serene and innocent in his life. He dared not disturb the perfection lying next to him, but he couldn’t help himself. He ran a hand along Danny’s cheek, avoiding the bruises along the way. The sudden stimulation made Danny smile in his sleep, and in turn made Tom smile.
What is this I’m feeling toward Danny? It’s more than friendship, I can tell… No, I shouldn’t think these things. He’s a guy for Christ’s sake. And plus, I have Giovanna… The last thought made him refrain his touch on Danny’s cheek. He had completely forgotten he had left behind his girlfriend back in Harrow. What a lousy boyfriend I am… he thought as he tore his gaze away from Danny and settle it out the window. First I forget I had a girlfriend, then I develop feelings for Danny, my best mate. No, it’s not true. It’s only friendship. That’s all…
He glanced at his watch. It’s late. I should go now. He slowly and carefully left the bed and closed the door behind him. Unbeknownst to him, Danny had his eyes slightly open the whole time, and a wide smile was appearing on his face, wider than he’s ever shown Tom.