Fixing A Hole. [me first ATU fic and first Jude/Max]
Title: Fixing A Hole.
Fandom: Across The Universe
Author: me, who else?
Rating: PG-13 for drug/alcohol references and bad language.
Pairing: Judewell aka Jax aka Jude/Max
Disclaimer: They totally popped out of the movie screen and I took them home. They live in my closet and snuggle all day long.
Summary: Read the damn thing and find out. And if you haven't seen Across The Universe and are reading this than you should be slapped. Honestly.
Song Credit: The Beatles-Fixing A Hole
Jude kept his dark eyes focused on the man across the bar. It proved to be quite a task through all the hazy smoke and inhaling the mysterious scents in the air. The Limey couldn’t stop tapping his foot and clenching his fists. What was wrong with him?
His eyes were trained on the man ahead. The man with the week-old stubble and the piercing eyes and the grimy hair and his tongue down an unnamed woman’s throat. He downed another shot of something alcoholic, mind-altering and potent.
No one noticed him.
No one in New York, America, the planet for that matter ever did. He gripped the flimsy shot glass with a vengeance. What was wrong with him? He didn’t care what his best mate did. Best mate? Mate? Roommate? Acquaintance? Whatever the hell Max was to him he certainly did not care that his hands had dropped to the harlot’s lap.
He blinked twice, trying to clear his blurry, seething vision. Seething? He certainly is not seething over the twinkle in that slut’s eye. Certainly apathetic towards the hand that gripped the rugged American’s buckle. He obviously did not want to step over there and forcibly remove her from the bar and maybe his best mate, mate, roommate, acquaintance’s life entirely.
He clenched his teeth and gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly. Why would he care anyway? He had Lucy. Well, had being the key word. Things had changed. The world had changed. The whole bloody universe changed while he was away.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to see her again and hold her like he used to that first summer in New York. He wanted to go to Café Huh and watch another one of Sadie’s sets and joke around with Max. He wanted to have those chats with JoJo again about things that mattered. He wanted to see Prudence and smile at her shy, subtle glances at Sadie when she was dancing around her room with the air of a mystic and the world at her fingertips.
All things come to an end eventually. Sadie got that record deal, she’s famous now. Does she still talk to JoJo? Could they even be in the same room together? Prudence isn’t shy anymore. She’s happy and together with Rita, a contortionist to the best of Jude’s knowledge. Lucy, well, she’s fighting the cause. She’ll always be fighting the bleeding cause. She’s somewhere with a group of like-minded individuals painting protest signs and trying to get the sodding cause across.
What had become of Jude? The man honestly didn’t know. He didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t even feel alive. He was a shell. He walked around all day doing the same thing over and over without a fight or a fleeting thought of defiance. It was as if his light burnt out without a fight.
He moved back in with Max. They still live in that apartment. It’s different now, like everything else. They put the door up, Jude did anyway. Max took Sadie’s old room. Said it smelt good or some rubbish like that. Jude felt like the man wanted to distance himself from the Brit when he wanted nothing more than some fucking human interaction.
He got his job back at Ratt Magazine. Well, it may not last for long. The same emotional block that’s driving him mad also seeped into his creativity. He hasn’t drawn a decent picture in weeks. Hasn’t felt inspired by anything. The whole world might as well be gray. It’s lost all it’s colour since he left.
The man caught a whiff of something else and turned his attention back to Max. The bitch was still clearly all over him, intent on shagging him rotten and probably pocketing whatever he has on his person.
Jude took another shot he forgot was in front of him before slamming the glass on the table and walking briskly across the bar.
What was he doing? The man decided that with the amount of crap in his system his thoughts and actions were completely justified from this point on.
He reached the booth occupied by the wench and his best mate, mate, roommate, acquaintance fairly faster than he thought his addled limbs could go.
Piercing hazel met murky brown. Silence ensued.
“Jude, kinda busy here, man. What’s-”
Jude didn’t feel like warranting that with an answer and simply grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out with ease. The Yankee hadn’t gained much weight since he left the hospital.
He pulled him out of a side door and into the alley, Max yanking his arm away as soon as the heavy door shut.
“Christ, Jude. What do you want? This better be as good as head.”
The Brit stepped forward, a bit too close for comfort and Max barely felt his back hit the brick, making a faint scratching sound. He could smell the liquor on Jude’s breath. He could almost get a contact high from it.
“Jude?” Max asked weakly, trying to interpret what that look was beneath his best friend’s dark eyes.
A sharp tug on filthy flannel. Chapped, dry lips and a persistent tongue. A gasp and a faint moan and an electrifying kiss.
The human touch can undoubtedly fix a hole in the head and heart of a confused artist.
----
this was my first ATU fic and my first Jude/Max. Comments are simply lovely.
Picture done by: penguinfaery
Inspired by this story. ^_^
Fandom: Across The Universe
Author: me, who else?
Rating: PG-13 for drug/alcohol references and bad language.
Pairing: Judewell aka Jax aka Jude/Max
Disclaimer: They totally popped out of the movie screen and I took them home. They live in my closet and snuggle all day long.
Summary: Read the damn thing and find out. And if you haven't seen Across The Universe and are reading this than you should be slapped. Honestly.
Song Credit: The Beatles-Fixing A Hole
Jude kept his dark eyes focused on the man across the bar. It proved to be quite a task through all the hazy smoke and inhaling the mysterious scents in the air. The Limey couldn’t stop tapping his foot and clenching his fists. What was wrong with him?
His eyes were trained on the man ahead. The man with the week-old stubble and the piercing eyes and the grimy hair and his tongue down an unnamed woman’s throat. He downed another shot of something alcoholic, mind-altering and potent.
No one noticed him.
No one in New York, America, the planet for that matter ever did. He gripped the flimsy shot glass with a vengeance. What was wrong with him? He didn’t care what his best mate did. Best mate? Mate? Roommate? Acquaintance? Whatever the hell Max was to him he certainly did not care that his hands had dropped to the harlot’s lap.
He blinked twice, trying to clear his blurry, seething vision. Seething? He certainly is not seething over the twinkle in that slut’s eye. Certainly apathetic towards the hand that gripped the rugged American’s buckle. He obviously did not want to step over there and forcibly remove her from the bar and maybe his best mate, mate, roommate, acquaintance’s life entirely.
He clenched his teeth and gripped the fabric of his sweater tightly. Why would he care anyway? He had Lucy. Well, had being the key word. Things had changed. The world had changed. The whole bloody universe changed while he was away.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wanted to see her again and hold her like he used to that first summer in New York. He wanted to go to Café Huh and watch another one of Sadie’s sets and joke around with Max. He wanted to have those chats with JoJo again about things that mattered. He wanted to see Prudence and smile at her shy, subtle glances at Sadie when she was dancing around her room with the air of a mystic and the world at her fingertips.
All things come to an end eventually. Sadie got that record deal, she’s famous now. Does she still talk to JoJo? Could they even be in the same room together? Prudence isn’t shy anymore. She’s happy and together with Rita, a contortionist to the best of Jude’s knowledge. Lucy, well, she’s fighting the cause. She’ll always be fighting the bleeding cause. She’s somewhere with a group of like-minded individuals painting protest signs and trying to get the sodding cause across.
What had become of Jude? The man honestly didn’t know. He didn’t feel like himself. He didn’t even feel alive. He was a shell. He walked around all day doing the same thing over and over without a fight or a fleeting thought of defiance. It was as if his light burnt out without a fight.
He moved back in with Max. They still live in that apartment. It’s different now, like everything else. They put the door up, Jude did anyway. Max took Sadie’s old room. Said it smelt good or some rubbish like that. Jude felt like the man wanted to distance himself from the Brit when he wanted nothing more than some fucking human interaction.
He got his job back at Ratt Magazine. Well, it may not last for long. The same emotional block that’s driving him mad also seeped into his creativity. He hasn’t drawn a decent picture in weeks. Hasn’t felt inspired by anything. The whole world might as well be gray. It’s lost all it’s colour since he left.
The man caught a whiff of something else and turned his attention back to Max. The bitch was still clearly all over him, intent on shagging him rotten and probably pocketing whatever he has on his person.
Jude took another shot he forgot was in front of him before slamming the glass on the table and walking briskly across the bar.
What was he doing? The man decided that with the amount of crap in his system his thoughts and actions were completely justified from this point on.
He reached the booth occupied by the wench and his best mate, mate, roommate, acquaintance fairly faster than he thought his addled limbs could go.
Piercing hazel met murky brown. Silence ensued.
“Jude, kinda busy here, man. What’s-”
Jude didn’t feel like warranting that with an answer and simply grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out with ease. The Yankee hadn’t gained much weight since he left the hospital.
He pulled him out of a side door and into the alley, Max yanking his arm away as soon as the heavy door shut.
“Christ, Jude. What do you want? This better be as good as head.”
The Brit stepped forward, a bit too close for comfort and Max barely felt his back hit the brick, making a faint scratching sound. He could smell the liquor on Jude’s breath. He could almost get a contact high from it.
“Jude?” Max asked weakly, trying to interpret what that look was beneath his best friend’s dark eyes.
A sharp tug on filthy flannel. Chapped, dry lips and a persistent tongue. A gasp and a faint moan and an electrifying kiss.
The human touch can undoubtedly fix a hole in the head and heart of a confused artist.
----
this was my first ATU fic and my first Jude/Max. Comments are simply lovely.
Picture done by: penguinfaery
Inspired by this story. ^_^