Guess who's back... back again...
Hellllllo fellow boggers, I'm back with another story today but will attend first to some business! I have a good sized fic (just shy of 5k) where Chazz does a lot of musing on his life Jimmy blah blah blah. I was wondering if anyone would care to be a beta because I'm really nervy about posting something so long. Also, I don't have a copy of BoG at my disposal (INSERT FRANTIC SOBBING HERE) so I'm worried I didn't get all the important plottish points of the movie down right. So. If anyone would care to look it over, I'd be the happiest little Ellen ever.
Mooooving right along. We have another story that is A) fully of Chazz/Jimmy and B) lacking in zombies! Boo-yah. I put Jimmy through some minor torture here (a lot of it has Jimmytears ;_;) and Chazz comes to save the day. Enjoy lassies. And, um, lads, if you're out there? Hahaha yeah.
Title: Just Cry It Out
Rating: PG for Chazzcursing. (I'd say I tried, but I really didn't.)
Wordcount: 2,060 :o
Pairing: Chazz/Jimmy TO THE MAX
Summary: Jimmy can't stop crying until Chazz comes and makes it all better.
Jimmy perfected the art of silent crying after his adoption. Though he didn’t seem to care much how masculine his new charge acted in other respects, Darren MacElroy absolutely forbade any display of “outrageous, unreasonable, girlish emotion” and would punish accordingly. Jimmy learned early on that if he wanted to cry he would have to do it unseen and unheard. Sound could be controlled; steady breathing and a fist stuffed in his mouth would muffle his homesick and exhausted sobbing until he could cry himself to sleep. He outgrew such “girlish emotion” with age, holding his tears back for so long that it was only the bitterest loss of all that he felt he could finally let go. Even then, it had only taken ten minutes after Darren drove off for Jimmy to stop, clean himself up, and move on. He felt strangely proud to rise above the need for hours of crying in the dark. No one would begrudge him tears now, of course, but it made him feel strong. After what had happened to his life, that was something he desperately needed.
Today should be a day for celebration, everyone’s telling him; they’ve done the impossible, they’ve done more than the impossible, and everything he ever thought he lost has come back to him tenfold. That crowd was cheering for them, those medals were for them, this dream come true was theirs and theirs alone. Everything was fine at the rink, and everything was fine when they were escorted out to the waiting ambulance by a mob of paparazzi and screaming fans. They were like rock stars, Chazz crowed on the way to the hospital, dragging his “best little buddy in the entire freaking world” in for a noogie attack. (The only reason Chazz wanted to be treated at the hospital instead of the stand-by medical staff was to cause even more fuss for him to thrive on.) They gave him a splint and crutches and told him to get back to a doctor in a few days. In between Chazz energetically rehashing a play-by-play commentary about their performance and moaning about “taking one for the team,” everyone was in high spirits on their way home. Everything was perfect.
That’s why Jimmy doesn’t understand why he can’t stop crying.
He’s lying in his bunk, thankful for Chazz’s snoring to drown out most other sound. His teeth broke the skin of his fist awhile back, but he doesn’t care that he can taste copper or that his face is a dribbling, snotty mess. He can’t remember when he started crying or why, only that it has something to do the dreams he’d had before waking up in tears. If he didn’t feel like someone’d just sucker-punched him, he could think his way out of the situation. Be reasonable about all this. No sense in getting this upset over a dream he’s already forgotten, is there?
He’s a winner. A champion. Champions don’t lie in their rooms at night, crying in the dark.
Jimmy takes the hand from his mouth and breathes, very slowly and deeply. Be reasonable and calm about this, for goodness’s sake, he hears his father say. Crying doesn’t fix anything, it just lets you wallow around in self-pity. A MacElroy doesn’t wallow. He was strong enough not to wallow when Dad left, wasn’t he? Where’s that strength when he really needs it?
He takes another deep breath, opening his eyes and listening hard in the dark room. Chazz is still snoring like a freight train below him. When they’d gotten back earlier that night and were faced with the problem of broken ankles and ladders, the older man had decided to swallow his pride and give Jimmy top bunk for the night. It had touched Jimmy then and it does now, bringing another round of burning tears to his eyes that he just doesn’t understand. Forcing his lungs to work normally, he climbs out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom. Two months of occupying the lodge gives him enough sense of placement to navigate with only a few cursory gropes along the wall. He closes the door, flicks on the light, and looks at himself in the mirror.
I’m a mess, he thinks, grabbing a swath of toilet paper to blow his nose. It makes a disgustingly wet, sloppy sound, and he chucks the makeshift tissue in the toilet before grabbing another handful. It takes a couple times to clear everything out to the point he can breathe properly, and by then his nose looks like a cherry tomato on a stick. He laughs ruefully in his mind, thinking they’d all love to see him now, eyes bloodshot, nose dripping, and hair matted with tears and, ugh, snot. He bends down to the sink and starts to clean himself best he can. The cool water does wonders for his nerves, soothing his inflamed eyes and giving him some sense of perspective. He’s tired, that’s all. It’s been stressful the past two months, and really stressful in the past twenty-four hours, so it’s all just catching up with him. No worries, he thinks, wiping his face with a towel and trying out a smile for the mirror before reaching for the door handle. No worries at all.
He jumps, because Chazz is standing right there. His partner eyes him blearily at first, then with a wider and more awake stare as he takes in Jimmy’s distraught appearance. Jimmy steps back, one hand going to cover his face and then dropping as all his hard work in the bathroom gets blasted by another round of tears.
“Jimmy? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing… I’m sorry,” he blubbers, only half-controlling the words streaming from his mouth, “I’m sorry I just, I just, I was so scared and you could have died and, and, and it would have been all my fault-” It dissolves into out and out sobbing from there and Jimmy trying to push his way past his partner, shame coloring his cheeks.
“Jimmy?” Jimmy ignores him, blurred vision rooted to the floor. “Jimmy,” Chazz says louder, taking the shaking blond’s shoulders in his hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You hear that? I’m okay.”
“I could have,” Jimmy mumbles, pulling away. “I could have, could have ki-killed-”
“You didn’t.” Chazz pulls him close again. Jimmy wraps his arms around the other man and clings tightly, letting his entire body wrack with sobs. He hasn’t heard himself cry like this for years and he hates the sound on principle. He hates everything about himself right now. Chazz nearly smothers him in the strongest hug Jimmy’s ever had.
“It’s okay, kid, get it out. Get it all out. No one’s watching but me, and you know I don’t give a shit.”
The younger man burrows into his touch, pressing his face into his shoulder. Chazz starts to smooth his hair back in place and kisses the top of his head, murmuring soft words Jimmy can’t quite make out but are soothing nonetheless.
Jimmy whispers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to think… I mean, you never…”
“Not in front of you guys, at least, but don’t tell anybody.” Chazz plays with the hair at the nape of his partner’s neck, trying to coax out a smile. “What are you afraid I might think?”
A flash of embarrassment rips through Jimmy’s gut and he clenches the material of Chazz’s shirt tightly in his fists. “That I’m a coward… weak.” He spits out the word with a venom neither are accustomed to hearing in his voice. With nowhere else to go he molds closer to the body holding him, tucking his head under the older man’s chin. Chazz is silent a few moments, mulling the confession over.
“It’s okay to cry,” Chazz finally tells him. “But next time, come wake me up, okay? We’ll talk or whatever, deal with it together, but Jimmy, I would never, ever think that about you.” Jimmy nods and Chazz snorts. “Oh yeah, like you really believe me. Listen up. I don’t think you’re a coward, and I don’t think you’re weak. You’re the weaklessest person I know.”
Despite himself, Jimmy gives a choked laugh. “Weaklessest?”
“Least weak. Weaklessest. Same thing.” Then he considers. “No, wait… strongest, yeah, that was the word I was going for. Sorry.”
Jimmy looks up at him, not quite incredulously but with a good bit of cynicism thrown in for flavor. “You think I’m strong?”
“Hell yeah! Anyone who can lift my fat ass is hella strong.” He presses their foreheads together, a smile reaching his eyes. “You’re not weak, Jimmy. Whoever told you that is a big fat… douchebag.”
Jimmy grins as Chazz uses his thumb to brush off the last tears clinging to his face. The brunet considers the blond for a moment, seems to come to a conclusion, and lets his hand curl around the back of Jimmy’s neck.
“Heads up,” Chazz murmurs, then kisses him.
It’s not passionate. It doesn’t make either see stars or fireworks. It’s not even particularly sexy, especially given the situation and Jimmy’s current frame of mind. What it is, however, is perhaps the most comforting thing Chazz could have done for him. Jimmy reaches up and pulls his partner closer, one hand on either side of his face. Chazz is warm, he’s solid, he’s safe, and that little touch is all it takes to make Jimmy feel strong again.
“Just say the word and it never happened,” Chazz says softly when they finally pull away.
“S’okay,” Jimmy whispers back, still stroking his face. The two look at each other for a long time, caught up in words neither of them find the courage to say. Thank you, Jimmy thinks, thank you for everything.
Chazz looks at him thoughtfully, running a finger over Jimmy’s hand. “Jimmy, I…”
“Yeah?”
He brings the hand up to his lips and kisses the back. “I really, really have to take a piss now.”
Jimmy laughs, and he keeps laughing the entire time Chazz stands in the corner taking a leak. “Make sure you wash your hands,” Jimmy gets out between giggles.
“I always wash my hands, see? Soap and water and everything.” Chazz finishes his business, pulls up his sweatpants, washes, and flicks water at Jimmy before wiping his hands on a towel. “Better?”
The blond hugs him again. “Yeah. Thanks, Chazz.”
Chazz rubs his back, giving him that considering look again like he might say something important. His only words are, “You feel like going back to bed?”
Jimmy nods, then blinks. “Wait… you limped all the way here? The doctor said you were supposed to stay off your ankle.”
“When nature calls, only idiots ignore her. Now help me limp back to bed, jackass.”
Jimmy does, helping Chazz back into his bunk and grinning when the other man makes him tuck him in. He starts to climb back up when Chazz asks, “Hey… not that there is any room at all, but you wanna sleep with me tonight?”
One foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, Jimmy pauses and looks at Chazz.
“I meant that… y’know, in the literal sense of the word, not like… ah fuck Jimmy, you want to snuggle?”
“You’ve got that puppy dog look on your face right now, don’t you?”
“You bet your sweet skinny ass I do.”
Jimmy steps down from the ladder and slips into bed beside Chazz. After a little shuffling and un-tucking, the two are curled together under the blankets. “I didn’t think you even knew what snuggling was.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I can snuggle. I’m a good snuggler.” Chazz proceeds to demonstrate his mad snuggling skills.
“Nothing, just it didn’t seem like something Chazz Michael Michaels would do,” Jimmy says, giggling when Chazz’s mouth finds his neck.
“Mmhmm. Shut up and go to sleep, princess.”
“Fine.” Jimmy turns around and kisses him again, shyly, then lays his head in the crook of Chazz’s shoulder. Chazz lays an arm around his waist and sighs, brushing his hair with his lips.
“I mean it,” he says softly into his ear, “Anytime you need anything, anything… you come get me. Promise?”
Jimmy closes his eyes, letting himself drift off to the feeling of Chazz’s heartbeat under his cheek. “Yeah, Chazz. I promise.”
They stay like that until morning.
Mooooving right along. We have another story that is A) fully of Chazz/Jimmy and B) lacking in zombies! Boo-yah. I put Jimmy through some minor torture here (a lot of it has Jimmytears ;_;) and Chazz comes to save the day. Enjoy lassies. And, um, lads, if you're out there? Hahaha yeah.
Title: Just Cry It Out
Rating: PG for Chazzcursing. (I'd say I tried, but I really didn't.)
Wordcount: 2,060 :o
Pairing: Chazz/Jimmy TO THE MAX
Summary: Jimmy can't stop crying until Chazz comes and makes it all better.
Jimmy perfected the art of silent crying after his adoption. Though he didn’t seem to care much how masculine his new charge acted in other respects, Darren MacElroy absolutely forbade any display of “outrageous, unreasonable, girlish emotion” and would punish accordingly. Jimmy learned early on that if he wanted to cry he would have to do it unseen and unheard. Sound could be controlled; steady breathing and a fist stuffed in his mouth would muffle his homesick and exhausted sobbing until he could cry himself to sleep. He outgrew such “girlish emotion” with age, holding his tears back for so long that it was only the bitterest loss of all that he felt he could finally let go. Even then, it had only taken ten minutes after Darren drove off for Jimmy to stop, clean himself up, and move on. He felt strangely proud to rise above the need for hours of crying in the dark. No one would begrudge him tears now, of course, but it made him feel strong. After what had happened to his life, that was something he desperately needed.
Today should be a day for celebration, everyone’s telling him; they’ve done the impossible, they’ve done more than the impossible, and everything he ever thought he lost has come back to him tenfold. That crowd was cheering for them, those medals were for them, this dream come true was theirs and theirs alone. Everything was fine at the rink, and everything was fine when they were escorted out to the waiting ambulance by a mob of paparazzi and screaming fans. They were like rock stars, Chazz crowed on the way to the hospital, dragging his “best little buddy in the entire freaking world” in for a noogie attack. (The only reason Chazz wanted to be treated at the hospital instead of the stand-by medical staff was to cause even more fuss for him to thrive on.) They gave him a splint and crutches and told him to get back to a doctor in a few days. In between Chazz energetically rehashing a play-by-play commentary about their performance and moaning about “taking one for the team,” everyone was in high spirits on their way home. Everything was perfect.
That’s why Jimmy doesn’t understand why he can’t stop crying.
He’s lying in his bunk, thankful for Chazz’s snoring to drown out most other sound. His teeth broke the skin of his fist awhile back, but he doesn’t care that he can taste copper or that his face is a dribbling, snotty mess. He can’t remember when he started crying or why, only that it has something to do the dreams he’d had before waking up in tears. If he didn’t feel like someone’d just sucker-punched him, he could think his way out of the situation. Be reasonable about all this. No sense in getting this upset over a dream he’s already forgotten, is there?
He’s a winner. A champion. Champions don’t lie in their rooms at night, crying in the dark.
Jimmy takes the hand from his mouth and breathes, very slowly and deeply. Be reasonable and calm about this, for goodness’s sake, he hears his father say. Crying doesn’t fix anything, it just lets you wallow around in self-pity. A MacElroy doesn’t wallow. He was strong enough not to wallow when Dad left, wasn’t he? Where’s that strength when he really needs it?
He takes another deep breath, opening his eyes and listening hard in the dark room. Chazz is still snoring like a freight train below him. When they’d gotten back earlier that night and were faced with the problem of broken ankles and ladders, the older man had decided to swallow his pride and give Jimmy top bunk for the night. It had touched Jimmy then and it does now, bringing another round of burning tears to his eyes that he just doesn’t understand. Forcing his lungs to work normally, he climbs out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom. Two months of occupying the lodge gives him enough sense of placement to navigate with only a few cursory gropes along the wall. He closes the door, flicks on the light, and looks at himself in the mirror.
I’m a mess, he thinks, grabbing a swath of toilet paper to blow his nose. It makes a disgustingly wet, sloppy sound, and he chucks the makeshift tissue in the toilet before grabbing another handful. It takes a couple times to clear everything out to the point he can breathe properly, and by then his nose looks like a cherry tomato on a stick. He laughs ruefully in his mind, thinking they’d all love to see him now, eyes bloodshot, nose dripping, and hair matted with tears and, ugh, snot. He bends down to the sink and starts to clean himself best he can. The cool water does wonders for his nerves, soothing his inflamed eyes and giving him some sense of perspective. He’s tired, that’s all. It’s been stressful the past two months, and really stressful in the past twenty-four hours, so it’s all just catching up with him. No worries, he thinks, wiping his face with a towel and trying out a smile for the mirror before reaching for the door handle. No worries at all.
He jumps, because Chazz is standing right there. His partner eyes him blearily at first, then with a wider and more awake stare as he takes in Jimmy’s distraught appearance. Jimmy steps back, one hand going to cover his face and then dropping as all his hard work in the bathroom gets blasted by another round of tears.
“Jimmy? What’s wrong?”
“N-nothing… I’m sorry,” he blubbers, only half-controlling the words streaming from his mouth, “I’m sorry I just, I just, I was so scared and you could have died and, and, and it would have been all my fault-” It dissolves into out and out sobbing from there and Jimmy trying to push his way past his partner, shame coloring his cheeks.
“Jimmy?” Jimmy ignores him, blurred vision rooted to the floor. “Jimmy,” Chazz says louder, taking the shaking blond’s shoulders in his hands. “It’s okay. I’m okay. You hear that? I’m okay.”
“I could have,” Jimmy mumbles, pulling away. “I could have, could have ki-killed-”
“You didn’t.” Chazz pulls him close again. Jimmy wraps his arms around the other man and clings tightly, letting his entire body wrack with sobs. He hasn’t heard himself cry like this for years and he hates the sound on principle. He hates everything about himself right now. Chazz nearly smothers him in the strongest hug Jimmy’s ever had.
“It’s okay, kid, get it out. Get it all out. No one’s watching but me, and you know I don’t give a shit.”
The younger man burrows into his touch, pressing his face into his shoulder. Chazz starts to smooth his hair back in place and kisses the top of his head, murmuring soft words Jimmy can’t quite make out but are soothing nonetheless.
Jimmy whispers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to think… I mean, you never…”
“Not in front of you guys, at least, but don’t tell anybody.” Chazz plays with the hair at the nape of his partner’s neck, trying to coax out a smile. “What are you afraid I might think?”
A flash of embarrassment rips through Jimmy’s gut and he clenches the material of Chazz’s shirt tightly in his fists. “That I’m a coward… weak.” He spits out the word with a venom neither are accustomed to hearing in his voice. With nowhere else to go he molds closer to the body holding him, tucking his head under the older man’s chin. Chazz is silent a few moments, mulling the confession over.
“It’s okay to cry,” Chazz finally tells him. “But next time, come wake me up, okay? We’ll talk or whatever, deal with it together, but Jimmy, I would never, ever think that about you.” Jimmy nods and Chazz snorts. “Oh yeah, like you really believe me. Listen up. I don’t think you’re a coward, and I don’t think you’re weak. You’re the weaklessest person I know.”
Despite himself, Jimmy gives a choked laugh. “Weaklessest?”
“Least weak. Weaklessest. Same thing.” Then he considers. “No, wait… strongest, yeah, that was the word I was going for. Sorry.”
Jimmy looks up at him, not quite incredulously but with a good bit of cynicism thrown in for flavor. “You think I’m strong?”
“Hell yeah! Anyone who can lift my fat ass is hella strong.” He presses their foreheads together, a smile reaching his eyes. “You’re not weak, Jimmy. Whoever told you that is a big fat… douchebag.”
Jimmy grins as Chazz uses his thumb to brush off the last tears clinging to his face. The brunet considers the blond for a moment, seems to come to a conclusion, and lets his hand curl around the back of Jimmy’s neck.
“Heads up,” Chazz murmurs, then kisses him.
It’s not passionate. It doesn’t make either see stars or fireworks. It’s not even particularly sexy, especially given the situation and Jimmy’s current frame of mind. What it is, however, is perhaps the most comforting thing Chazz could have done for him. Jimmy reaches up and pulls his partner closer, one hand on either side of his face. Chazz is warm, he’s solid, he’s safe, and that little touch is all it takes to make Jimmy feel strong again.
“Just say the word and it never happened,” Chazz says softly when they finally pull away.
“S’okay,” Jimmy whispers back, still stroking his face. The two look at each other for a long time, caught up in words neither of them find the courage to say. Thank you, Jimmy thinks, thank you for everything.
Chazz looks at him thoughtfully, running a finger over Jimmy’s hand. “Jimmy, I…”
“Yeah?”
He brings the hand up to his lips and kisses the back. “I really, really have to take a piss now.”
Jimmy laughs, and he keeps laughing the entire time Chazz stands in the corner taking a leak. “Make sure you wash your hands,” Jimmy gets out between giggles.
“I always wash my hands, see? Soap and water and everything.” Chazz finishes his business, pulls up his sweatpants, washes, and flicks water at Jimmy before wiping his hands on a towel. “Better?”
The blond hugs him again. “Yeah. Thanks, Chazz.”
Chazz rubs his back, giving him that considering look again like he might say something important. His only words are, “You feel like going back to bed?”
Jimmy nods, then blinks. “Wait… you limped all the way here? The doctor said you were supposed to stay off your ankle.”
“When nature calls, only idiots ignore her. Now help me limp back to bed, jackass.”
Jimmy does, helping Chazz back into his bunk and grinning when the other man makes him tuck him in. He starts to climb back up when Chazz asks, “Hey… not that there is any room at all, but you wanna sleep with me tonight?”
One foot on the bottom rung of the ladder, Jimmy pauses and looks at Chazz.
“I meant that… y’know, in the literal sense of the word, not like… ah fuck Jimmy, you want to snuggle?”
“You’ve got that puppy dog look on your face right now, don’t you?”
“You bet your sweet skinny ass I do.”
Jimmy steps down from the ladder and slips into bed beside Chazz. After a little shuffling and un-tucking, the two are curled together under the blankets. “I didn’t think you even knew what snuggling was.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I can snuggle. I’m a good snuggler.” Chazz proceeds to demonstrate his mad snuggling skills.
“Nothing, just it didn’t seem like something Chazz Michael Michaels would do,” Jimmy says, giggling when Chazz’s mouth finds his neck.
“Mmhmm. Shut up and go to sleep, princess.”
“Fine.” Jimmy turns around and kisses him again, shyly, then lays his head in the crook of Chazz’s shoulder. Chazz lays an arm around his waist and sighs, brushing his hair with his lips.
“I mean it,” he says softly into his ear, “Anytime you need anything, anything… you come get me. Promise?”
Jimmy closes his eyes, letting himself drift off to the feeling of Chazz’s heartbeat under his cheek. “Yeah, Chazz. I promise.”
They stay like that until morning.