RPF (Punditslash): "No Grand Division" by janamara
Title: No Grand Division
Author: janamara
Pairing/characters: Jon/Keith/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Prompt: 2719. RPF- Pundits, Jon/Keith/Rachel and the PRT, For a lesbian and two men who've identified as straight most of their lives, embarking on a relationship together is sometimes complicated, but it gets even more complicated when their friends find out about their relationship.
Summary: When Stephen stands Jon up for lunch, Jon is sure it's because Stephen doesn't approve of his relationship. Luckily, Rachel and Keith are more than willing to do a little damage control.
Author's Notes: A million thanks to
aliya as always, but especially for the last minute readthrough insanity. :D
Stephen had stood Jon up before, more than a couple of times, and of the several hundred lunch and dinner dates Stephen had actually attended, he'd been late to more than his share. Stephen was flighty, impulsive, and irresponsible, but those were just all parts of his character, flaws maybe, but nothing personal, and nothing that meant anything particular to this particular situation. Stephen couldn't have meant anything this time, any more than he had ever meant anything like this, which was not at all...
As he forced his way up 9th Avenue, Jon tried to make that thought into a mantra, but the whole thing had come out too long to even repeat once, let alone again and again, so Jon gave it up. The important thing was the lack of offense, the nothing personal. Stephen was a peculiar creature with his quirks and annoying tics, and that was that. He had probably just forgotten or had something come up to grab ahold of his lizard-like attention. That was Stephen, after all. Jon thought this over and finally found his refrain.
"Stephen is Stephen," he muttered to himself, repeating the sentence in his head afterward. He was just settling into the mantra, finding a weird sort of rhythm, when he almost got run down by a taxi crossing West 50th. Luckily, he saw yellow out of the corner of his eye and tripped back up onto the curb before it was too late. Still, the near-miss shook him enough to pull him out of the fog he hadn't even realized he had drifted into. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and raised his eyes from his feet and looked around.
It wasn't raining yet, though the sky had been grey most of the morning and all of the afternoon. He wasn't carrying an umbrella, but he had left the office empty-handed on purpose. He had just wanted to feel unencumbered, free, and now he dared the sky to open up on him.
It didn't. The light changed, and he actually checked the road before stepping into it this time. It occurred to him that maybe Stephen had thought they were going to meet in one of their offices first. This lunch was important, after all. Stephen knew that. Reassured, Jon returned to his mantra again and decided to stop by Stephen's office on his way back to work.
"He wasn't anywhere," Jon groans into the receiver. He has the phone crushed between his shoulder and his jaw, and holding it there is the only thing that is keeping him sitting halfway upright. All he really wants to do is collapse.
There's a longer pause than he expects after that, and for a second, he wonders if maybe Keith has come in and pulled Rachel into conference mode, but then, she finally speaks.
"Did you at least ask someone about him?"
Jon indulges in his own silence, listening for Rachel's breath.
She sighs. "Jon... Really?"
"I didn't want him to know I was looking. He might be upset or something. I..." Jon raises his free hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he rubs his temples. He's starting to get a headache, but he swears Rachel is laughing.
"Now what?" he asks.
"I'm coming over."
"But what about...?" Jon isn't even sure. ...Stephen? Keith? Rachel's show? His show? The damn rain that keeps threatening to fall?
"It'll be fine," Rachel answers. "Give me half an hour."
She's there in just a little more than 20, and Jon has to wonder, as he always does, how she moves through the city the way she does. When she knocks on the door frame, she's alone, and that probably has a little to do with her speed. Keith has a funny way of getting distracted when he's out in the world with her. It's really only Rachel who does that to him. He'll look at the windows and the birds, and the people on the street whenever he's out in the city, but with Rachel, everything's slower. He has to share it all with her, make her see. It really doesn't bother Jon; it's their own little thing, but he's noticed it, as he's noticed the way Rachel hangs on Keith's arm sometimes, pulling him into her like they're all there is.
"Hey, cosmonaut," she says as she closes the door. "Where you off to?"
"The Motherland, I guess," he mumbles, looking at his hands instead of her.
She hangs on his arm, too, sometimes, though that whole thing requires a little more planning and effort, and sometimes she even hangs on both of their arms at once... But now, she's pushing into his personal space, kissing him, and not letting him protest, because his door is solid wood, and no one can see, and who would believe it anyway?
"Maybe Stephen just doesn't believe me," Jon says when she lets him go. (She tastes like coffee and like her, and he feels better, even as he says those words.)
She frowns and rolls his chair away from the desk. Then, she wiggles the keyboard back with her ass, her legs stretching down between his knees and ankles and on to the floor. He looks up at her like he hopes that she's going to tell him exactly everything that's going on. Instead, she just says, "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I doubt it, though. I mean, you told me that you made it pretty clear..."
Jon frowns down at Rachel's sneakers. Their orange leather is shiny with rain, and they're famed by damp denim. Then, he reaches out and touches her knee, playing idly with the creased cloth next to her kneecap. She doesn't move or speak until he looks up at her again, and he has to force his chin to rise, his eyes flitting and unfocused. He barely makes eye contact before he returns to staring at her jeans.
Rachel lets out a short breath. "It's okay to be scared."
"Sure," Jon says. He tugs at the fabric and then lets go. "But, it's Stephen. I... It's Stephen."
"And Stephen is Stephen."
"But what does that mean?" He drops back with a huff, pushing away in his chair, and Rachel lets him roll a full ten inches back before reaching out with her foot and stopping him.
"It means it'll be okay."
Jon looks up at her for real this time, and he thinks that maybe she actually means it, with her wide open eyes and awkward half smile. His lips twitch.
Her smile balances out and then grows when she sees him looking at her and he starts to wonder what that looks like to her, but she stops him with her hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer again. It startles him and he winces at his wincing.
"Keith wants to get lunch and drinks tomorrow," she says, "with everyone. Anderson's already confirmed, and Stephen will come, I'm sure, even if only because he's afraid I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."
Jon frowns again, but he knows there isn't anything he can say. He's still catching his breath from the sudden shock of Rachel's jerking him forward when she kisses him again.
"You know," she says as she pulls away, "sometimes even I don't get it... more than sometimes, really, so I can understand a little of what he might be thinking. I think you can, too, but that's okay."
Jon frowns. "I don't quite know what you mean."
Rachel kicks a foot up, then hooks it under his thigh, inching him as close as she can get him. She squints at him and then smiles.
"This whole thing probably shouldn't work," she answers. "And maybe I'm just blind or lost in denial, but it seems to be working, just the same. I mean, it's working well enough that you felt it necessary to go and share the good news with Stephen..."
Even though Rachel is still smiling, Jon can't figure out her tone. He touches the place where her thigh presses into his, then slips a hand behind her leg, hoisting himself up and into her. She laughs when his feet plant against the ground, and she drapes her arms over his shoulders.
"I was excited," he says.
"I know."
"And now, I'm terrified."
"It'll be okay."
"But, then, Keith..." Jon leans into Rachel's chest, hiding his face in her shoulder. He takes a breath of her skin. "He could have at least talked to me before calling a meeting, or whatever this is. I could have had some input."
Rachel sighs. "And, you... Technically, you could have told us before unloading your heart on Stephen. I know he's your friend, but we're also a group and... Hell, I'm not upset or anything, not at all. It's just--Maybe you and Keith should talk."
"Maybe," Jon says, though he doesn't like the idea. He raises his head again and Rachel smiles. She kisses him carefully and then pushes him back.
Her mouth moves from his lips to his cheek, barely lingering. Then, she jumps to her feet. "Try not to worry. It's Thursday, which means it's your Friday. Have a good show and keep your eyes on the weekend."
"Thanks," Jon says, his head spinning with everything that has happened and is going to happen. "I'll try."
"You'll be fine." Rachel waves backwards as she swings the door open, and Jon can't help but laugh.
He laughs on and off up until his show, all through the last minute rewrites and the final bureaucratic wranglings. And even though his obsessive voicemail checking has become an ingrained tic by the time he steps onto the set, he's feeling all right when the intro music starts. He cracks up three different times during the opening, and lets Hodgman steamroll him with grinning patience. By the time he leaves the studio--as early as he can, it is his Friday, after everything--he isn't feeling bad at all. He takes the subway to Keith's because the idea of walking makes him ache, but he's got all the time in the world to get anywhere. He takes it slow, humming softly to himself all the while. Then, he slides past the doorman with a nod and a smile, and up the elevator and down the hall.
And into a brick wall. It's all just his thoughts starting up again, but he might as well be facing real bricks. Every anxiety and ill feeling comes flooding back and he trips over his feet as he lets himself into the apartment. He has to fight his own legs to get to the couch.
He doesn't want to talk to Keith. If he wants to talk to anyone, it's Stephen. Sure, Keith is there, accessible whenever he wants, if he ever wants, and that's fine, but he hardly needs it, with Rachel and Stephen, and all the people on the perimeter of that. Even before this whole thing started, he and Keith had never been the ones to talk feelings or secrets, that was all Rachel and Stephen, taking their hearts out for all to see, getting teary and then laughing about it. Jon thinks maybe the dynamic should change now, but he doesn't really know why or how.
Rachel says it's working, anyway, and Jon is inclined to agree. They've bickered at times, sure, though it's mostly been because of Keith getting on Rachel's nerves and Jon feeling a little lost at times, and they've never really fought. The sex is good, and Jon really loves Sunday mornings, just lazing around and feeling all right.
Still, he can't talk himself out of it. He doesn't even understand where the hell the whole thing came from, but it's still there when Keith comes crashing in at 9:30, this heavy fog of anxiety, so thick he can hardly breathe.
"You look worse than I thought you would," Keith says. He sheds his jacket and all his bags at once, dropping them onto the floor as he dives toward Jon's place on the couch.
Jon just grunts and moves out of the way, his eyes never leaving the baseball highlights on the TV.
Keith looks Jon over, frowning when nothing changes after a few seconds.
"Sad sack," he mumbles as he locates the remote. Then, he sighs. "I can't believe I'm about to do this."
Jon flinches when the television goes black. He glances over at Keith and then back at the blank screen.
"You were going for the volume control and accidentally hit power, right?" he asks.
Keith shakes his head then places the remote on the coffee table. "I hate to say this, especially since my saying it is going to bring to an end an era of golden silence that has lasted for more than several months, but, Jon, we need to talk."
Jon nods, then realizes that he is staring at the remote. He forces himself to look up at Keith and even manages a smile. "But, I don't want to."
Keith grins back. "I don't either, really."
"Damn it, Rachel," Jon laughs. He rolls his eyes then glances over at Keith. "She won't be back for hours, will she?"
Keith sinks into the couch. His silence is enough of an answer.
It's not like Keith and Jon don't ever talk. In fact, they talk about a good many things. Keith is the only other man Jon lets help him with crossword puzzles, though that's only on particularly groggy Sunday mornings when there's only one or two blanks left and Jon's at his wit's end, but still, it's a pretty big deal. They talk sports and politics, current events, the weather, and sometimes it's even more personal than that. Jon knows the names of most of Keith's closer relatives, and a few funny stories from his past, the same sort of things he knows about Rachel, the things they talk about while eating dinner or lying in bed in the morning.
As Jon watches Keith watch the ceiling, he wants to say something to this effect, but then all he can think about is Rachel on either one of their arms, or even walking between them, all lopsided in the way it makes her, with Keith offering an elbow on one side and Jon like a little gnome on the other, silently willing her not to drop an arm over his shoulders. Then, he remembers Rachel earlier, sitting with him in the afternoon, her knees and her eyes.
"What are we going to do?" he asks.
Keith stretches his limbs with an overly involved yawn. "I suppose you should tell me what has you so worried."
Jon opens his mouth to try to say anything, but there's nothing he can say. His whole world goes fuzzy, and then, he starts to cry.
He's never even cried in front of Rachel before. There's never really been a reason to, or, if there has been, he's never realized it until now. Keith seems to hesitate, but then Jon sees that he's just trying to maneuver himself closer. Jon leans in to close the gap, and Keith pulls him right down into his chest.
Jon sinks into him, realizing for one hazy second that Keith has never really held him like this before.
That understanding doesn't help with the crying, but Keith doesn't seem to mind. He runs his fingers through Jon's hair and down the back of his neck, slowly working out the tension in Jon's shoulders. Jon weeps until he's sobbing, but Keith doesn't stop, just keeps prodding at the muscles, his lips at Jon's scalp, moving soundlessly until Jon quiets.
When it's finally all over, they both freeze. Jon's left arm aches, trapped between his and Keith's bodies, and he's sure Keith isn't comfortable, even with Jon being as small as he is. Still, they both just breathe for a while. Finally, Jon begins to move, stretching from his shoulders and down his back. He raises his free arm and slowly pushes away. Keith follows him, nearly pulling Jon into his lap as they relocate their limbs. Jon ends up turned backwards with his head on Keith's shoulder and his legs splayed out across the couch.
"I feel like a twelve-year-old girl," Jon whispers. "And not even in any funny sort of way."
"That's okay sometimes," Keith answers, though he doesn't elaborate.
Jon takes a breath. "So, I'm guessing you told Anderson?"
"I figured since you told Stephen, it wouldn't be a secret much longer, and you know how Anderson gets when he finds out someone's been keeping something from him..."
Jon grins, then leans back into Keith's lap so he can see it. He almost expects Keith to stoop down and kiss him, but only almost. "What did he say?"
"Not very much," Keith answers, returning Jon's smile briefly before his lips drop into a frown. "I think he was mostly just confused. Then, he said a lot of things I didn't really listen to. Tomorrow will make more sense, I hope."
Keith raises a hand, and his fingers flex above Jon's forehead before they drop again. He takes a breath and then asks, "But what about Stephen? What has you so upset?"
"Well..." Jon sighs. Talking is something he knows he can do. "Well, he seemed mostly okay yesterday when I told him, I mean, as soon as he finally decided I wasn't joking, and when I say 'okay', I mean as okay as I could have hoped he would be, but... but, we were supposed to have lunch today, and he never showed up, and then he never called."
Keith doesn't say anything.
Jon clenches a fist, then lets it go. "Maybe I should have just kept the whole thing quiet. I don't even know."
Keith sighs and lets his fingers crawl over to the sleeve of Jon's t-shirt, their tips barely tracing the hem. "Well, what is your worst case scenario? And why?"
"That it'll all be over." Jon closes his eyes. "Not everything, just, us, and not, you know, you and me and Rachel, but--I've never had a friend like him, you know?"
Keith's hand stalls and Jon expects him to immediately push into the Why? part of his question. He doesn't. He just takes another breath and says, "I know."
"Yeah," Jon answers, because it's something to say. They're quiet again, Keith's hand still frozen, hovering again. The nearness makes Jon ache and he doesn't know what to do with it. He shakes his head, but then the words come out anyway.
"Please don't freeze up like that, at least not with your hand. You can touch me. I--I need that..."
Keith stays still for a few more seconds. Then, his fingers slowly close around the bare skin above Jon's elbow, the grip firm, but not painful.
"I should have figured that out by now, shouldn't I?" he asks.
"Same here, I guess," Jon shrugs. Then, he almost smiles. "We can do this any way we want. Do you at least know that?"
Keith laughs. "I do now, if that counts."
Jon carefully wiggles out of Keith's grasp, and then slides down until his head is resting on Keith's thigh. He waits for Keith's curiosity to bring him leaning in closer, then turns his neck, burying his face in Keith's stomach.
"Well, okay," Keith chuckles. He slips both hands into Jon's hair, not moving him, or even holding him still, just letting this fingers be there.
"Jon," he says, waiting until he feels Jon nod under his palms, "I honestly believe that Stephen is your friend, and that he loves and cares for you, and if that's the truth, then he's going to be there for you, no matter what and no matter how much you worry."
Jon nods and Keith lets go. His fingers return a few seconds later, tugging lightly at Jon's sleeves.
"Come up here."
When Rachel finally sneaks in at a hair before midnight, Jon and Keith are already in bed, two islands on a mattress. Above the sheets, nothing looks like it has changed, but when she sneaks between them, Rachel discovers the way their palms are pressed together.
Keith's afternoon cocktail experiment is set for 1 p.m. the next day and the restaurant is just a quick jog down the street, but Jon leaves the office at 12:30 just in case. He reaches the place in five minutes, then doubles back and around. at 12:48, he looks into the window and sees Stephen sitting alone at a table for five. He can't think of a reason why he shouldn't just go on inside.
And so he does.
[LJ] - [DW] - [AO3]
Author: janamara
Pairing/characters: Jon/Keith/Rachel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Prompt: 2719. RPF- Pundits, Jon/Keith/Rachel and the PRT, For a lesbian and two men who've identified as straight most of their lives, embarking on a relationship together is sometimes complicated, but it gets even more complicated when their friends find out about their relationship.
Summary: When Stephen stands Jon up for lunch, Jon is sure it's because Stephen doesn't approve of his relationship. Luckily, Rachel and Keith are more than willing to do a little damage control.
Author's Notes: A million thanks to
aliya as always, but especially for the last minute readthrough insanity. :D
Stephen had stood Jon up before, more than a couple of times, and of the several hundred lunch and dinner dates Stephen had actually attended, he'd been late to more than his share. Stephen was flighty, impulsive, and irresponsible, but those were just all parts of his character, flaws maybe, but nothing personal, and nothing that meant anything particular to this particular situation. Stephen couldn't have meant anything this time, any more than he had ever meant anything like this, which was not at all...
As he forced his way up 9th Avenue, Jon tried to make that thought into a mantra, but the whole thing had come out too long to even repeat once, let alone again and again, so Jon gave it up. The important thing was the lack of offense, the nothing personal. Stephen was a peculiar creature with his quirks and annoying tics, and that was that. He had probably just forgotten or had something come up to grab ahold of his lizard-like attention. That was Stephen, after all. Jon thought this over and finally found his refrain.
"Stephen is Stephen," he muttered to himself, repeating the sentence in his head afterward. He was just settling into the mantra, finding a weird sort of rhythm, when he almost got run down by a taxi crossing West 50th. Luckily, he saw yellow out of the corner of his eye and tripped back up onto the curb before it was too late. Still, the near-miss shook him enough to pull him out of the fog he hadn't even realized he had drifted into. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and raised his eyes from his feet and looked around.
It wasn't raining yet, though the sky had been grey most of the morning and all of the afternoon. He wasn't carrying an umbrella, but he had left the office empty-handed on purpose. He had just wanted to feel unencumbered, free, and now he dared the sky to open up on him.
It didn't. The light changed, and he actually checked the road before stepping into it this time. It occurred to him that maybe Stephen had thought they were going to meet in one of their offices first. This lunch was important, after all. Stephen knew that. Reassured, Jon returned to his mantra again and decided to stop by Stephen's office on his way back to work.
"He wasn't anywhere," Jon groans into the receiver. He has the phone crushed between his shoulder and his jaw, and holding it there is the only thing that is keeping him sitting halfway upright. All he really wants to do is collapse.
There's a longer pause than he expects after that, and for a second, he wonders if maybe Keith has come in and pulled Rachel into conference mode, but then, she finally speaks.
"Did you at least ask someone about him?"
Jon indulges in his own silence, listening for Rachel's breath.
She sighs. "Jon... Really?"
"I didn't want him to know I was looking. He might be upset or something. I..." Jon raises his free hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as he rubs his temples. He's starting to get a headache, but he swears Rachel is laughing.
"Now what?" he asks.
"I'm coming over."
"But what about...?" Jon isn't even sure. ...Stephen? Keith? Rachel's show? His show? The damn rain that keeps threatening to fall?
"It'll be fine," Rachel answers. "Give me half an hour."
She's there in just a little more than 20, and Jon has to wonder, as he always does, how she moves through the city the way she does. When she knocks on the door frame, she's alone, and that probably has a little to do with her speed. Keith has a funny way of getting distracted when he's out in the world with her. It's really only Rachel who does that to him. He'll look at the windows and the birds, and the people on the street whenever he's out in the city, but with Rachel, everything's slower. He has to share it all with her, make her see. It really doesn't bother Jon; it's their own little thing, but he's noticed it, as he's noticed the way Rachel hangs on Keith's arm sometimes, pulling him into her like they're all there is.
"Hey, cosmonaut," she says as she closes the door. "Where you off to?"
"The Motherland, I guess," he mumbles, looking at his hands instead of her.
She hangs on his arm, too, sometimes, though that whole thing requires a little more planning and effort, and sometimes she even hangs on both of their arms at once... But now, she's pushing into his personal space, kissing him, and not letting him protest, because his door is solid wood, and no one can see, and who would believe it anyway?
"Maybe Stephen just doesn't believe me," Jon says when she lets him go. (She tastes like coffee and like her, and he feels better, even as he says those words.)
She frowns and rolls his chair away from the desk. Then, she wiggles the keyboard back with her ass, her legs stretching down between his knees and ankles and on to the floor. He looks up at her like he hopes that she's going to tell him exactly everything that's going on. Instead, she just says, "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I doubt it, though. I mean, you told me that you made it pretty clear..."
Jon frowns down at Rachel's sneakers. Their orange leather is shiny with rain, and they're famed by damp denim. Then, he reaches out and touches her knee, playing idly with the creased cloth next to her kneecap. She doesn't move or speak until he looks up at her again, and he has to force his chin to rise, his eyes flitting and unfocused. He barely makes eye contact before he returns to staring at her jeans.
Rachel lets out a short breath. "It's okay to be scared."
"Sure," Jon says. He tugs at the fabric and then lets go. "But, it's Stephen. I... It's Stephen."
"And Stephen is Stephen."
"But what does that mean?" He drops back with a huff, pushing away in his chair, and Rachel lets him roll a full ten inches back before reaching out with her foot and stopping him.
"It means it'll be okay."
Jon looks up at her for real this time, and he thinks that maybe she actually means it, with her wide open eyes and awkward half smile. His lips twitch.
Her smile balances out and then grows when she sees him looking at her and he starts to wonder what that looks like to her, but she stops him with her hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer again. It startles him and he winces at his wincing.
"Keith wants to get lunch and drinks tomorrow," she says, "with everyone. Anderson's already confirmed, and Stephen will come, I'm sure, even if only because he's afraid I'll kick his ass if he doesn't."
Jon frowns again, but he knows there isn't anything he can say. He's still catching his breath from the sudden shock of Rachel's jerking him forward when she kisses him again.
"You know," she says as she pulls away, "sometimes even I don't get it... more than sometimes, really, so I can understand a little of what he might be thinking. I think you can, too, but that's okay."
Jon frowns. "I don't quite know what you mean."
Rachel kicks a foot up, then hooks it under his thigh, inching him as close as she can get him. She squints at him and then smiles.
"This whole thing probably shouldn't work," she answers. "And maybe I'm just blind or lost in denial, but it seems to be working, just the same. I mean, it's working well enough that you felt it necessary to go and share the good news with Stephen..."
Even though Rachel is still smiling, Jon can't figure out her tone. He touches the place where her thigh presses into his, then slips a hand behind her leg, hoisting himself up and into her. She laughs when his feet plant against the ground, and she drapes her arms over his shoulders.
"I was excited," he says.
"I know."
"And now, I'm terrified."
"It'll be okay."
"But, then, Keith..." Jon leans into Rachel's chest, hiding his face in her shoulder. He takes a breath of her skin. "He could have at least talked to me before calling a meeting, or whatever this is. I could have had some input."
Rachel sighs. "And, you... Technically, you could have told us before unloading your heart on Stephen. I know he's your friend, but we're also a group and... Hell, I'm not upset or anything, not at all. It's just--Maybe you and Keith should talk."
"Maybe," Jon says, though he doesn't like the idea. He raises his head again and Rachel smiles. She kisses him carefully and then pushes him back.
Her mouth moves from his lips to his cheek, barely lingering. Then, she jumps to her feet. "Try not to worry. It's Thursday, which means it's your Friday. Have a good show and keep your eyes on the weekend."
"Thanks," Jon says, his head spinning with everything that has happened and is going to happen. "I'll try."
"You'll be fine." Rachel waves backwards as she swings the door open, and Jon can't help but laugh.
He laughs on and off up until his show, all through the last minute rewrites and the final bureaucratic wranglings. And even though his obsessive voicemail checking has become an ingrained tic by the time he steps onto the set, he's feeling all right when the intro music starts. He cracks up three different times during the opening, and lets Hodgman steamroll him with grinning patience. By the time he leaves the studio--as early as he can, it is his Friday, after everything--he isn't feeling bad at all. He takes the subway to Keith's because the idea of walking makes him ache, but he's got all the time in the world to get anywhere. He takes it slow, humming softly to himself all the while. Then, he slides past the doorman with a nod and a smile, and up the elevator and down the hall.
And into a brick wall. It's all just his thoughts starting up again, but he might as well be facing real bricks. Every anxiety and ill feeling comes flooding back and he trips over his feet as he lets himself into the apartment. He has to fight his own legs to get to the couch.
He doesn't want to talk to Keith. If he wants to talk to anyone, it's Stephen. Sure, Keith is there, accessible whenever he wants, if he ever wants, and that's fine, but he hardly needs it, with Rachel and Stephen, and all the people on the perimeter of that. Even before this whole thing started, he and Keith had never been the ones to talk feelings or secrets, that was all Rachel and Stephen, taking their hearts out for all to see, getting teary and then laughing about it. Jon thinks maybe the dynamic should change now, but he doesn't really know why or how.
Rachel says it's working, anyway, and Jon is inclined to agree. They've bickered at times, sure, though it's mostly been because of Keith getting on Rachel's nerves and Jon feeling a little lost at times, and they've never really fought. The sex is good, and Jon really loves Sunday mornings, just lazing around and feeling all right.
Still, he can't talk himself out of it. He doesn't even understand where the hell the whole thing came from, but it's still there when Keith comes crashing in at 9:30, this heavy fog of anxiety, so thick he can hardly breathe.
"You look worse than I thought you would," Keith says. He sheds his jacket and all his bags at once, dropping them onto the floor as he dives toward Jon's place on the couch.
Jon just grunts and moves out of the way, his eyes never leaving the baseball highlights on the TV.
Keith looks Jon over, frowning when nothing changes after a few seconds.
"Sad sack," he mumbles as he locates the remote. Then, he sighs. "I can't believe I'm about to do this."
Jon flinches when the television goes black. He glances over at Keith and then back at the blank screen.
"You were going for the volume control and accidentally hit power, right?" he asks.
Keith shakes his head then places the remote on the coffee table. "I hate to say this, especially since my saying it is going to bring to an end an era of golden silence that has lasted for more than several months, but, Jon, we need to talk."
Jon nods, then realizes that he is staring at the remote. He forces himself to look up at Keith and even manages a smile. "But, I don't want to."
Keith grins back. "I don't either, really."
"Damn it, Rachel," Jon laughs. He rolls his eyes then glances over at Keith. "She won't be back for hours, will she?"
Keith sinks into the couch. His silence is enough of an answer.
It's not like Keith and Jon don't ever talk. In fact, they talk about a good many things. Keith is the only other man Jon lets help him with crossword puzzles, though that's only on particularly groggy Sunday mornings when there's only one or two blanks left and Jon's at his wit's end, but still, it's a pretty big deal. They talk sports and politics, current events, the weather, and sometimes it's even more personal than that. Jon knows the names of most of Keith's closer relatives, and a few funny stories from his past, the same sort of things he knows about Rachel, the things they talk about while eating dinner or lying in bed in the morning.
As Jon watches Keith watch the ceiling, he wants to say something to this effect, but then all he can think about is Rachel on either one of their arms, or even walking between them, all lopsided in the way it makes her, with Keith offering an elbow on one side and Jon like a little gnome on the other, silently willing her not to drop an arm over his shoulders. Then, he remembers Rachel earlier, sitting with him in the afternoon, her knees and her eyes.
"What are we going to do?" he asks.
Keith stretches his limbs with an overly involved yawn. "I suppose you should tell me what has you so worried."
Jon opens his mouth to try to say anything, but there's nothing he can say. His whole world goes fuzzy, and then, he starts to cry.
He's never even cried in front of Rachel before. There's never really been a reason to, or, if there has been, he's never realized it until now. Keith seems to hesitate, but then Jon sees that he's just trying to maneuver himself closer. Jon leans in to close the gap, and Keith pulls him right down into his chest.
Jon sinks into him, realizing for one hazy second that Keith has never really held him like this before.
That understanding doesn't help with the crying, but Keith doesn't seem to mind. He runs his fingers through Jon's hair and down the back of his neck, slowly working out the tension in Jon's shoulders. Jon weeps until he's sobbing, but Keith doesn't stop, just keeps prodding at the muscles, his lips at Jon's scalp, moving soundlessly until Jon quiets.
When it's finally all over, they both freeze. Jon's left arm aches, trapped between his and Keith's bodies, and he's sure Keith isn't comfortable, even with Jon being as small as he is. Still, they both just breathe for a while. Finally, Jon begins to move, stretching from his shoulders and down his back. He raises his free arm and slowly pushes away. Keith follows him, nearly pulling Jon into his lap as they relocate their limbs. Jon ends up turned backwards with his head on Keith's shoulder and his legs splayed out across the couch.
"I feel like a twelve-year-old girl," Jon whispers. "And not even in any funny sort of way."
"That's okay sometimes," Keith answers, though he doesn't elaborate.
Jon takes a breath. "So, I'm guessing you told Anderson?"
"I figured since you told Stephen, it wouldn't be a secret much longer, and you know how Anderson gets when he finds out someone's been keeping something from him..."
Jon grins, then leans back into Keith's lap so he can see it. He almost expects Keith to stoop down and kiss him, but only almost. "What did he say?"
"Not very much," Keith answers, returning Jon's smile briefly before his lips drop into a frown. "I think he was mostly just confused. Then, he said a lot of things I didn't really listen to. Tomorrow will make more sense, I hope."
Keith raises a hand, and his fingers flex above Jon's forehead before they drop again. He takes a breath and then asks, "But what about Stephen? What has you so upset?"
"Well..." Jon sighs. Talking is something he knows he can do. "Well, he seemed mostly okay yesterday when I told him, I mean, as soon as he finally decided I wasn't joking, and when I say 'okay', I mean as okay as I could have hoped he would be, but... but, we were supposed to have lunch today, and he never showed up, and then he never called."
Keith doesn't say anything.
Jon clenches a fist, then lets it go. "Maybe I should have just kept the whole thing quiet. I don't even know."
Keith sighs and lets his fingers crawl over to the sleeve of Jon's t-shirt, their tips barely tracing the hem. "Well, what is your worst case scenario? And why?"
"That it'll all be over." Jon closes his eyes. "Not everything, just, us, and not, you know, you and me and Rachel, but--I've never had a friend like him, you know?"
Keith's hand stalls and Jon expects him to immediately push into the Why? part of his question. He doesn't. He just takes another breath and says, "I know."
"Yeah," Jon answers, because it's something to say. They're quiet again, Keith's hand still frozen, hovering again. The nearness makes Jon ache and he doesn't know what to do with it. He shakes his head, but then the words come out anyway.
"Please don't freeze up like that, at least not with your hand. You can touch me. I--I need that..."
Keith stays still for a few more seconds. Then, his fingers slowly close around the bare skin above Jon's elbow, the grip firm, but not painful.
"I should have figured that out by now, shouldn't I?" he asks.
"Same here, I guess," Jon shrugs. Then, he almost smiles. "We can do this any way we want. Do you at least know that?"
Keith laughs. "I do now, if that counts."
Jon carefully wiggles out of Keith's grasp, and then slides down until his head is resting on Keith's thigh. He waits for Keith's curiosity to bring him leaning in closer, then turns his neck, burying his face in Keith's stomach.
"Well, okay," Keith chuckles. He slips both hands into Jon's hair, not moving him, or even holding him still, just letting this fingers be there.
"Jon," he says, waiting until he feels Jon nod under his palms, "I honestly believe that Stephen is your friend, and that he loves and cares for you, and if that's the truth, then he's going to be there for you, no matter what and no matter how much you worry."
Jon nods and Keith lets go. His fingers return a few seconds later, tugging lightly at Jon's sleeves.
"Come up here."
When Rachel finally sneaks in at a hair before midnight, Jon and Keith are already in bed, two islands on a mattress. Above the sheets, nothing looks like it has changed, but when she sneaks between them, Rachel discovers the way their palms are pressed together.
Keith's afternoon cocktail experiment is set for 1 p.m. the next day and the restaurant is just a quick jog down the street, but Jon leaves the office at 12:30 just in case. He reaches the place in five minutes, then doubles back and around. at 12:48, he looks into the window and sees Stephen sitting alone at a table for five. He can't think of a reason why he shouldn't just go on inside.
And so he does.
[LJ] - [DW] - [AO3]