"Peacemaker?" Jimmy/Christian, T/M
Title: Peacemaker?
Rating: T / M
Pairing: Jimmy/Christian
Warnings: Lots of language, minor slash, angst, mentioned drugs/sex.
Summary: Jimmy and Christian fight. Can one person really make a difference in the world? Is it worth trying?
D/c: Well, neither of the people are real, but they are creations of Green Day, so I guess I can't own them...
Notes: No one ever slashes St. Jimmy, except me in my head... So here ya go. Jimmy from AI and Christian from 21 CB.
Also, I listened to The Static Age and 21 Guns while writing this. You'll be able to tell.
Oh, and I picture Jimmy about 20, give or take, and Christian around 18.
“You just don’t get it do ya? You still haven’t figured it out.” Jimmy took a drag from his joint and smiled to himself.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Christian snapped, casting a glare across the alley to the opposite wall where Jimmy was leaning casually against the rough brick.
“You.” Jim answered with a smirk. “This.” He gestured with his makeshift cigarette. “You’re just some angry kid in stuck in small town America. You think by fucking up the norm you’re gonna change the system.” He took another long drag, held it in a moment, and watched the smoke float away as he exhaled slowly.
“Like you’re the poster boy for this country.” Christian growled sarcastically. Jimmy only chuckled, further provoking the other teen. “Fuck you! I’ve heard your nickname, St. Jimmy? You think you’re some fucking grace in this fucked up town. What gives you the right to tell me off?”
“I’m not telling you off.” Jimmy was calm, as he often appeared, despite whatever fires raged in his head. “I’m just telling you that you don’t know what you’re doing.” Christian ground his teeth together and crossed the alley with balled fists. He stopped just out of Jimmy’s reach, but was seriously resisting hitting the punk in the face.
“You think burning out in an alley is gonna get you anywhere? You’re a wastoid, Jim. You’re nothing...” He shook his head, not comprehending why Jimmy didn’t see this.
“Listen. You’re the one burning out.” Jimmy tossed the last of the paper and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “This life we’ve got is what we’ve got. You’re just another junkie to the man. They don’t care about you. Setting fires and fucking in the streets ain’t gonna get their attention, it’s just gonna get you locked away.” Jimmy met Christian’s blazing eyes.
“At least I’m trying. What’re you doing?” Christian asked rhetorically, but Jimmy answered, stepping into his face.
“Nothin’. There ain’t shit we can do. And I’m not gonna pretend that I make a difference to anyone but the people I know.” His smoky breath crossed over Christian’s face and he looked away.
“You’re no fucking saint.” Christian said lowly. Jimmy reached up and placed his tattooed hand on Christian’s scarred cheek, forcing him to look at him.
“I don’t claim to be.” He stared down Christian, but the teenager jerked his head away from Jimmy’s touch.
“Tell me.” He growled, shoving Jimmy back against the wall. “What makes you right? You’ve never even left this town.” Jimmy’s gaze darkened and his fist hit over Christian’s jaw before he knew what he was doing.
“I’ve been everywhere. Every fucking town is the same. I left it all behind, but it never leaves you. You can’t escape the monotony, oppression, heartbreak, boredom, injustice, the pain, the fucking drugs and alcohol. All of it sticks with you.” Christian was picking himself off the ground and Jimmy pinned the boy to the harsh brick. “It doesn’t matter who you’re fucking, what ink you show the world, or what you scream in the middle of the night. You are never. Getting. Anywhere.” He punctuated each word with a small push against Christian’s strong shoulders. “You’re nothing, so don’t try to be.” With that, he let the struggling Christian go. He pushed by Jimmy and crossed the alley again, leaning on his own wall, wiping away the blood dripping from his lip with the back of his fist.
“You’re wrong, Jim.” He said after a long silence. He tried to keep his voice calm and level. It came out tired and sad. Jimmy looked up from the ground, meeting his eyes, not wanting a fight. “One person can make a difference.” Christian sighed and shrugged. “It’s not a death sentence to fuck up the peace masquerade.” Jimmy was quiet a moment, studying the dark-haired boy across the alley. For a moment, he just observed the kid and thought about how much Christian was like everything that he couldn’t be.
Christian stood there in his plain tee-shirt, leather jacket and jeans, standing in dirty tennis shoes, crossing his arms. He was everything Jimmy used to be before the needles scarred, inked, and pierced his skin. But he wasn’t clean. He bought his drugs from Jimmy himself, knowing they were top shit. And he was bitter. Sure Jimmy was angry that his life had gone nowhere, that he had no plans, no goals or future. He was pissed that every girl he ever knew had broken his heart, that his mother was as useless as he was, that he had nowhere to go except the next small town. But watching Christian, Jimmy saw this rage and more. He knew that Christian was feeling the pain that society thrust upon everyone, and was taking it personally. He had taken this all as his own burden, and he had the determination to do something about it. And that’s what Jimmy hated. He never had the drive to change. But this kid had passion. And he was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. But there was still that tiny, microscopic bit of hope that said he might, possibly do something useful. And Jimmy hated it.
Jimmy nodded finally, slowly, keeping his eyes on Christian. “Be careful, Kid. The world seems big, but it’s just one place like this after another.” He finally said, defeat hidden by calm in his words. Christian watched Jimmy for a moment before crossing the alley once more. He pulled two cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Jimmy without a word. They leaned against that rough wall, smoking in silence, staring at the far wall in tense peace.
“You really gonna leave?” Jimmy finally asked when they had both tossed the filters to the ground, not removing his gaze from the far wall.
“Yeah.” Christian answered simply. Jimmy finally turned to him, tears sparking his eyes from his thoughts and memories. Christian saw the pain in Jimmy and it made him more upset that kids felt like this all over the country and couldn’t do anything about it. “For everyone like us.”
“We’re lost.” Jimmy said. Christian pulled Jimmy against him in a tight hug.
“Yeah.” He agreed. Jimmy pulled back a bit, looked into Christian’s dark eyes, and leaned forward, pressing their lips together for just a second. Christian felt relief as though nicotine and weed had crossed from Jimmy’s lips through his entire body. Jimmy pulled back and sighed.
“It’s not worth dying for.” He said offhandedly, and Christian knew that this was Jimmy’s way of saying goodbye. He offered a small smile to the punk.
“Take care.” Christian left with these two words and a small nod. Jimmy watched him walk from the alley, not turning back. He sighed and looked up at the dark sky. Maybe this kid had potential, but he couldn’t help the feeling of doubt that washed over him. Jimmy lit up again and strolled out of the alley, bitter tears in his eyes as he headed out into the world again.
--
That was my vision of the two sides of the fight.
Either you suffer in the shadows, or risk it all to possibly make a difference.
I love Jimmy and Christian. I think J/C might be a new fav...
-J X
Rating: T / M
Pairing: Jimmy/Christian
Warnings: Lots of language, minor slash, angst, mentioned drugs/sex.
Summary: Jimmy and Christian fight. Can one person really make a difference in the world? Is it worth trying?
D/c: Well, neither of the people are real, but they are creations of Green Day, so I guess I can't own them...
Notes: No one ever slashes St. Jimmy, except me in my head... So here ya go. Jimmy from AI and Christian from 21 CB.
Also, I listened to The Static Age and 21 Guns while writing this. You'll be able to tell.
Oh, and I picture Jimmy about 20, give or take, and Christian around 18.
“You just don’t get it do ya? You still haven’t figured it out.” Jimmy took a drag from his joint and smiled to himself.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Christian snapped, casting a glare across the alley to the opposite wall where Jimmy was leaning casually against the rough brick.
“You.” Jim answered with a smirk. “This.” He gestured with his makeshift cigarette. “You’re just some angry kid in stuck in small town America. You think by fucking up the norm you’re gonna change the system.” He took another long drag, held it in a moment, and watched the smoke float away as he exhaled slowly.
“Like you’re the poster boy for this country.” Christian growled sarcastically. Jimmy only chuckled, further provoking the other teen. “Fuck you! I’ve heard your nickname, St. Jimmy? You think you’re some fucking grace in this fucked up town. What gives you the right to tell me off?”
“I’m not telling you off.” Jimmy was calm, as he often appeared, despite whatever fires raged in his head. “I’m just telling you that you don’t know what you’re doing.” Christian ground his teeth together and crossed the alley with balled fists. He stopped just out of Jimmy’s reach, but was seriously resisting hitting the punk in the face.
“You think burning out in an alley is gonna get you anywhere? You’re a wastoid, Jim. You’re nothing...” He shook his head, not comprehending why Jimmy didn’t see this.
“Listen. You’re the one burning out.” Jimmy tossed the last of the paper and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “This life we’ve got is what we’ve got. You’re just another junkie to the man. They don’t care about you. Setting fires and fucking in the streets ain’t gonna get their attention, it’s just gonna get you locked away.” Jimmy met Christian’s blazing eyes.
“At least I’m trying. What’re you doing?” Christian asked rhetorically, but Jimmy answered, stepping into his face.
“Nothin’. There ain’t shit we can do. And I’m not gonna pretend that I make a difference to anyone but the people I know.” His smoky breath crossed over Christian’s face and he looked away.
“You’re no fucking saint.” Christian said lowly. Jimmy reached up and placed his tattooed hand on Christian’s scarred cheek, forcing him to look at him.
“I don’t claim to be.” He stared down Christian, but the teenager jerked his head away from Jimmy’s touch.
“Tell me.” He growled, shoving Jimmy back against the wall. “What makes you right? You’ve never even left this town.” Jimmy’s gaze darkened and his fist hit over Christian’s jaw before he knew what he was doing.
“I’ve been everywhere. Every fucking town is the same. I left it all behind, but it never leaves you. You can’t escape the monotony, oppression, heartbreak, boredom, injustice, the pain, the fucking drugs and alcohol. All of it sticks with you.” Christian was picking himself off the ground and Jimmy pinned the boy to the harsh brick. “It doesn’t matter who you’re fucking, what ink you show the world, or what you scream in the middle of the night. You are never. Getting. Anywhere.” He punctuated each word with a small push against Christian’s strong shoulders. “You’re nothing, so don’t try to be.” With that, he let the struggling Christian go. He pushed by Jimmy and crossed the alley again, leaning on his own wall, wiping away the blood dripping from his lip with the back of his fist.
“You’re wrong, Jim.” He said after a long silence. He tried to keep his voice calm and level. It came out tired and sad. Jimmy looked up from the ground, meeting his eyes, not wanting a fight. “One person can make a difference.” Christian sighed and shrugged. “It’s not a death sentence to fuck up the peace masquerade.” Jimmy was quiet a moment, studying the dark-haired boy across the alley. For a moment, he just observed the kid and thought about how much Christian was like everything that he couldn’t be.
Christian stood there in his plain tee-shirt, leather jacket and jeans, standing in dirty tennis shoes, crossing his arms. He was everything Jimmy used to be before the needles scarred, inked, and pierced his skin. But he wasn’t clean. He bought his drugs from Jimmy himself, knowing they were top shit. And he was bitter. Sure Jimmy was angry that his life had gone nowhere, that he had no plans, no goals or future. He was pissed that every girl he ever knew had broken his heart, that his mother was as useless as he was, that he had nowhere to go except the next small town. But watching Christian, Jimmy saw this rage and more. He knew that Christian was feeling the pain that society thrust upon everyone, and was taking it personally. He had taken this all as his own burden, and he had the determination to do something about it. And that’s what Jimmy hated. He never had the drive to change. But this kid had passion. And he was stupid, reckless, and dangerous. But there was still that tiny, microscopic bit of hope that said he might, possibly do something useful. And Jimmy hated it.
Jimmy nodded finally, slowly, keeping his eyes on Christian. “Be careful, Kid. The world seems big, but it’s just one place like this after another.” He finally said, defeat hidden by calm in his words. Christian watched Jimmy for a moment before crossing the alley once more. He pulled two cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to Jimmy without a word. They leaned against that rough wall, smoking in silence, staring at the far wall in tense peace.
“You really gonna leave?” Jimmy finally asked when they had both tossed the filters to the ground, not removing his gaze from the far wall.
“Yeah.” Christian answered simply. Jimmy finally turned to him, tears sparking his eyes from his thoughts and memories. Christian saw the pain in Jimmy and it made him more upset that kids felt like this all over the country and couldn’t do anything about it. “For everyone like us.”
“We’re lost.” Jimmy said. Christian pulled Jimmy against him in a tight hug.
“Yeah.” He agreed. Jimmy pulled back a bit, looked into Christian’s dark eyes, and leaned forward, pressing their lips together for just a second. Christian felt relief as though nicotine and weed had crossed from Jimmy’s lips through his entire body. Jimmy pulled back and sighed.
“It’s not worth dying for.” He said offhandedly, and Christian knew that this was Jimmy’s way of saying goodbye. He offered a small smile to the punk.
“Take care.” Christian left with these two words and a small nod. Jimmy watched him walk from the alley, not turning back. He sighed and looked up at the dark sky. Maybe this kid had potential, but he couldn’t help the feeling of doubt that washed over him. Jimmy lit up again and strolled out of the alley, bitter tears in his eyes as he headed out into the world again.
--
That was my vision of the two sides of the fight.
Either you suffer in the shadows, or risk it all to possibly make a difference.
I love Jimmy and Christian. I think J/C might be a new fav...
-J X