The Social Network [Fanfic]
Oblivious
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from anything in relation to TSN.
Warning: Slash but nothing too major. Swearing.
Pairing(s): Jesse/Andrew
Summary: Jesse finally comes to the realization that his best friend is in love with him. He also realizes that everyone thinks their screwing.
AN: My god, I am so obsessed with this pairing. All of the fanworks for this couple are incredible. I really need moar and moar and moar fanfic and fanart. I can't stop. Must have.
~*~
It's pretty easy to fall into habits, especially when working extends into the early morning and he's suddenly familiar with the sight of the rising sun.
He doesn't mind so much, after all, he gets to drink beer in most of his scenes so it's not like he's ever uncomfortable. There's a strange peace that comes from the night and it fuels his creative edge like nothing else. Somewhere between dusk and dawn, he feels himself slipping into Mark's character and settling in for a long stay. It's odd to truly understand someone's perspective, all the while seeing the inevitable crash at the end.
He's not alone at night, which helps him to cope with the long hours and the unpleasant yawning which hits him at about 12:30. It's almost contagious and he sees a ripple around the room of raised hands and open mouths. He's not the only one who notices and Andrew looks at him from the corner of his eye and his laugh lines start to appear. It's impossible to be moody when the energizer bunny is sitting next to him. Sometimes, when Andrew has thrown him one of his careless smiles, he looks at him a second after it's faded, just to see what he's like without it. The constant change between his American and British accent makes him smile and he can't help the fondness he has for him.
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
He looks up from his phone. They're allowed a short break between filming and they're sitting in faded fold-up chairs, trying not to yawn, "Don't know. Why?"
"We aren't filming tomorrow."
"I know," he says as he looks back down to his phone. Angry Birds is taunting him and he needs to maintain his focus.
"So what are you going to do?"
"Sleep," he says sighing, "Maybe watch a movie. Read or something."
Andrew is suddenly looking nervous, which is strange, since everyone knows that he's nearly fearless. In the distance, he can hear the sound of shouting and the smash of something on hard stone. "2012's out. We should see it."
Jesse looks up at the adjacent wall blankly, something processing in his head that he isn't quite sure of. He does know that he hasn't been off the set with Andrew yet but that they've got on pretty well so far. He does know that sometimes, they get each other coffee and that they know exactly how many sugars to put in. He's obviously friends with Andrew so he can't see anything strange about spending five solid days of filming with him and then seeing a movie together on their day off.
"Okay. Although," he says and Andrew is suddenly looking hesitant again, "I've heard it's pretty shit."
Andrew is smiling again, that brilliant smile which crinkles the skin around his eyes, "I'm in the mood for comedy."
"Cool."
Jesse goes back to Angry Birds, biting his lip when he fails, yet again. Andrew is chatting about apocalyptic movies and it's almost like the soundtrack to his game.
~*~
There at some party, he doesn't really remember the guy who's invited him but it's someone he vaguely remembers and that's good enough for him. He's been pushing desperately hard nights on set and all he wants to do is remind himself of how young he is.
Andrew's in between films so when he invites him to the party, he gets the answer, "It's not like I have anything better to do." They're so used to sterile press parties and launch parties and wrap-up parties that going to a normal, run of the mill party where the main function is to get drunk, is just plain foreign to them. Andrew comes over to his place before hand and he spends an annoying twenty minutes walking in and out of his room with different combinations of shirts. By the end, he isn't too sure how mismatched he really looks because Andrew's smile is just a little too wide and mocking. He gets an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when he walks back into his room to change his shirt yet again and those eyes still haven't left him.
They arrive fashionably late and his friend gives him a hard hand-shake and the girls around him turn around so that their skin almost glows in the cheap lighting of the apartment. It's a packed room overlooking the city and just dingy enough to ruin with booze and high heels. He's suddenly aware of how many people are looking at him, which he reasons is only natural considering his fame. Andrew's chest is pressed into his back but it's packed so he's probably just being pushed against him.
"I know you," says one girl as she turns to him. She's drinking something (a cruiser, he thinks) that glows pink in her hands. Her eyes flick towards Andrew and her grins widens yet again. "Weren't you both in that movie? About Facebook?"
He nods and can't help but rub the back of his neck with his hand, "Yeah, we were," He laughs a bit awkwardly and Andrew is now standing beside him, his height seemingly magnified. His hand is on his back now and when he looks over at his friend, even though he's grinning, there is something awfully insincere about it. He asks, "Did you see it?"
"No, but maybe I will now." She says and he's not egotistical but his interest is suddenly lost. If she's going to open with an acknowledgment of his films, she might as well have seen them.
"It was nice meeting you... but I've gotta make the rounds." She nods a bit disappointedly and turns back to her circle.
He doesn't make his rounds but instead, Andrew drags him into a side room (a bedroom which is dark except for the reflection of city lights) and tugging his sleeve out of the boy's grasp, Jesse demands, "Are you alright? You haven't said anything since we arrived and it looked like you were about flip off that girl."
Andrew raises his eyebrow and snorts, "I'm fine. You've just got to learn how to pick out the gold-diggers though. She was ready to pounce."
His heart beat has slowed and he's glad that it's just friendly concern for his pocket and his bad choice in women.
"Hey guys, what the hell is up?" Says a guy at the door. Jesse has shaken his hand but he hasn't actually said a proper hello.
"Hey man, nothing much. Just catching a breather. Great party, didn't realize that you knew so many people." He says as the guy waltzes into the room.
"I'm Andrew," says his friend, sticking out his hand and shaking the other with determination.
"Dude, I know who you are. Fuck," says the host, "Can't believe I dragged you both here. Totally thought you weren't going to show up. No-one's seen a freakin hair of yours in person since you made it big," Jesse feels guilty about how true the statement is. He doesn't hang around any of his old friends. He still has heaps of friends but in terms of people he actually wants to hang around, it's really only Justin and Andrew on his list now. "Shit, forgot to say, I'm Kay, cool to meet you Andrew."
Andrew smiles easily and Jesse can tell that his charming grin is flustering Kay. "Thanks for having me. I guess I'll get a drink, if that's alright?" Andrew turns to Jesse as he says this and Jesse shrugs his shoulder.
"Whatever."
"You want anything?"
"Just a beer, thanks."
"See you in a bit." And Andrew's out of the door, his lean figure disappearing around the corner and into the party.
"Sweet catch," says Kay.
"What?" He has no idea what Kay is talking about, maybe the girl he talked to before?
"Andrew. Everyone says your fucking. Good to see it wasn't just a rumor."
His mind is in a vacuum and he can't remember the last time he actually felt his blush coming before seeing it. He knows that they've got a bromance going but he didn't think anyone thought more of it.
"What d'you mean?" He's trying to keep his cool but Kay is leering at him.
"I've been with my girlfriend for two years now and she doesn't even look at me the way he looks at you. Fucking love sick."
"Um. Okay. Well, thanks for that," he says and he suddenly feels like Mark Zuckerberg, trapped in an awkward situation that he can't get out of, "I'll see how Andrew's going with those drinks."
He leaves the room without really saying goodbye and stands in the corner of the room for a moment, his head spinning. His head is telling him that there's nothing, that it's just another rumor but he's never had it spelled out so matter-of-factly to him before. Like it was so inconceivable that they weren't fucking that there's really no point in batting around the bush. He desperately wants a drink and to be alone and to sit in his apartment with his cat and think of what to do.
"You look preoccupied," says a voice and when he glances up, it's Andrew with his drink. He's grinning cheerfully but Jesse is so wrapped up in his fears that he doesn't even think to respond. He just takes his beer and starts drinking. He can feel the other boys eyes on him and the fact that he hadn't ever realized how much he fucking looks at him makes him a bit pissed off. He doesn't talk to Andrew very much and as the night starts to move on, he talks to pretty girls and flirts the best he can with them while drinking and drinking and drinking. He can feels those eyes glued to him the whole night and when he stumbles out of the apartment at three in the morning, nearly vomiting (which he succeeds in doing once back at the apartment), Andrew is by his side, helping him to his feet and taking him home in a taxi.
He doesn't remember much, just the feeling of bile in his throat, grease on his skin and a sleep that could have been better.
When he stumbles out of his room close to noon the next day, Andrew has coffee for him and bacon. He suddenly remembers why he drank so much and flirted with all of the pretty girls and he swallows heavily. The smile that Andrew gives him when he thanks him for the bacon is almost heart-breaking.
~*~
It's not often that they fight but when they do, it's almost like an explosion.
There's so much emotion and constant happiness in their dynamic that when they finally disagree, it's difficult to work out what's anger and what's passion. They've only fought a few times, mostly snapping at each other on set or getting lost on one of their trips off work and having to argue over who understands the map more (it's always Jesse and he never forgets to remind Andrew about the collection of vintage maps he collects and how he loves to draw over them with a black pen to show what is and isn't in the modern world).
It's late at night when it starts.
"So, are you still in for that weekend at my parents?" He asked Jesse a while back to see his home, which is only fair since he's seen Jesse's. At the time, he had agreed impatiently and absent-mindedly put it into his phone calendar (which he incidentally doesn't use anymore).
Jesse looks up from his coffee, his face suddenly drawn and thoughtful, "Oh, shit. I forgot. I'm booked in for promo shooting on saturday arvo. I thought it was next month?" He flicks out his phone and starts going through the calendar, "Damn it, I don't think I can reschedule this one. The photographer is a bit of a prick and I haven't worked with him before."
When he looks over at Andrew, he's surprised by the absolute devastation on the other boys face. "Jesse, you said that you'd come with me. I told my parents, they made up a bed for you and everything."
"Well, shit, Andrew. I can't just not go to this photo shoot. You know what it can be like."
"Yeah, I do. Which is why I know that you should reschedule it. It's not like they're paying you for the pleasure, they should work around your schedule."
He can see that Andrew is getting flustered by the way that his hands move impatiently around: in his hair, scratching his arm and touching his face. Truthfully, he hadn't thought it was that big of a deal but obviously, he had underestimated his friend (yet again). He can feel himself reclining into, what he likes to call, Mark-mode, where he becomes impatient and snappish, although he never raises his voice. "What do you think the director will think if I just up and leave in the middle of filming."
"But you only have that booked for the weekend. Why can't you just reschedule and come with me?" Andrew's expression is almost distressed but Jesse is angry now and he's standing by his error and his commitment to the photographer.
"No. I've scheduled it in and I can't change it."
"Fuck, Jesse. Do you have any idea how much effort I've put into planning this? The fucking airline tickets, which you have to pay me back for. My parents. The fucking tour I booked around London. Jesus, is all you think about yourself?"
"If I where just thinking of myself, I would have gone on your trip. But since I have to consider the release date of this movie, the photographer that was booked, the stylists, make-up artists and director who are all going to be there, I'm quite sure that what I am doing is the very antonym of selfishness."
He's actually overreacting though and it really would be as easy as booking another day. The photographer they have chosen, while being a prick, actually isn't in that high of demand and his make-up artist and stylist would desperately want the long weekend off. But he's annoyed because Andrew is meant to understand that he hates being backed into a corner and that he'd need sometime to actually think of how to act and behave inside his best friends house. He's never even met his family before so his anxiety is already through the roof at the thought of meeting them.
Andrew picks up his coat from the couch seat and looks at him, as if he leaves a bad taste in his mouth, "If you need me, I'll be with my parents. In England."
He walks to the door and slams it loudly so that the noise echoes strangely in the lonely room. Jesse is still angry but he's always been a composed angry and his Mark-mode is still in full gear. He simply looks down at his phone, deletes the calendar entry for the weekend and gets ready for bed.
When he wakes up in the morning, fully expecting a text message from Andrew to have graced his inbox (I'm sorry, we should reschedule then) he glares at the screen angrily when he realizes that there is nothing to feel victorious about. He mulls over his decision the rest of the day and by the time he's sitting in front of T.V. that night, he's seriously starting to miss that constant happy feeling which Andrew used to fill him with.
The next morning, after rooming his cats with his neighbor, he's on a plane. Even though it's a day earlier then he was planning on leaving, he makes no plan to cancel his photography booking. He packs a small bag with one change of clothes, some toiletries and a book and then he's off on the plane to England. He's traveled so much in his life that it really isn't that big of a deal to be flying half-way around the world. He feels more nervous to see his friends face then to arrive in a foreign country. There's a man that wont stop staring at him (he only managed to score cheap back of the plane tickets at the last moment) and eventually he sees a camera being flung out to subtly take pictures of him. He can't imagine that something so boring would end up in the papers but he sighs anyways and gets back to reading. The fact that Andrew suggested the book to him makes it especially important to get through it.
When he gets to England, he realizes that he even though he knows the location of Andrew's house, he doesn't actually know how to get there. He catches the subway (a little girl stares at him until it's uncomfortable), another subway and a taxi and he's still not there. He buys a map, stares it for an hour, forgets to eat, buys some chewing gum and catches another taxi. The last taxi costs him over a hundred pounds but he's willing to take the burden if it makes up for his dickishness.
When he arrives at the middle-class house with it's unassuming exterior and 'quaint' location in the street, he wonders what it would have been like to have grown up in such a foreign place. He walks up to the door and knocks. He hears a distant, "I'll get it," that sounds distantly like his old drama teacher and then, the door is being cheeringly flung open by a woman who is lean and tall and remarkably like her son.
"Oh, hello. I know who you are." She smiles and he tries to muster up the courage to smile back but only manages a rather pathetic example of a grimace.
"Hello, Mrs. Garfield. Is your son home?" He asks tentatively.
She peers at him, "You're the friend that was meant to come up with him. Jesse," she smiles again, "You look in need of a sleep. Come in and I'll get Andrew for you."
He mutters, "Thank you," and follows her inside. It's warm and he can hear laughter from a room at the back. When he rounds a corner, he sees a table, filled with mostly strangers. Andrew is talking to a middle aged woman and hasn't noticed his mother's reappearance.
"Andrew, dear. A guest is here for you."
Andrew turns to look and Jesse feels like his stomach might drop into the floor beneath his feet. Andrew's expression almost glows and there is a strange smile on his face, one that he hasn't seen before. Jesse imagines that he must look like a kicked puppy, in his ragged clothes filled with holes and his unkempt hair. But he can't think of being insecure because Andrew has jumped up and is moving around the table to get to him, "Jesse. What... how did you? You rescheduled!" And then arms are wrapping around him and he's within the tightest, warmest hug he's ever received. He can hear his heart pounding heavily as he wraps his own arms around Andrew's lean form and squeezes back. Unashamedly, Andrew only just manages to tear himself away and turn back to the group.
"Guys, this is Jesse."
The group gives him a bit of a wave and a smile and most of the guests are just grinning. Andrew's mother is beaming and trying not to shoot a knowing glance in their direction.
"Come on," says Andrew as he drags him out of the room, "I need to talk to you for a second."
They are moving up a staircase and into a room that vaguely reminds him of childhood. It's obviously Andrew's room and he sees a framed picture of a small boy with two adults hugging. It makes him smile.
When Andrew stops walking, closes the door and turns to him, he's hardly ready for the way he's pushed against the wall and the feeling of soft lips pressed against his. His mind goes blissfully blank for a few moments, until he realizes that he's against a wall, kissing his best friend while his best friend's family eats downstairs. Not to mention the fact that he just flew around the world to see him. He doesn't actually respond to the kiss though and when Andrew realizes this, he leans back and stares at him. It's weird opening his eyes, feeling the pleasure of a kiss and then seeing his best friend in front of him, his smile slowly drooping to form a worried expression.
"I-I'm... sorry." Says Andrew, because he's obviously taking his reaction as a rejection.
"You just kissed me."
"I... I don't know what came over me."
"You just kissed me."
"Shit. I thought...." Andrew is nearly at the other side of the room and is pacing, up and down on the carpeted floor. His face is pure agony as he runs his hand through his hair.
"I wasn't imagining that, was I?"
"Look Jesse, can we pretend that this never happened? It doesn't have to be a big deal, I can get over it. Just... don't get angry or anything."
"People always told me that you had a thing for me," Andrew has stopped pacing and is staring at him, "I just thought they were imagining things. But you just kissed me so I guess, logically, that they were merely pointing out an accurate observation."
"Shit."
When his mind finally catches up with his brain, he simply walks up to Andrew, looks into his widening eyes and kisses him softly. He can feel Andrew smiling into the kiss and something low and melodious like a laugh escapes within their gasps for air. There's affection in their touches, which is awkward for Jesse because he smells like travel, although Andrew doesn't seem to mind. He's being pushed against a wall again and hands are under his shirt, stroking his skin, almost savoring it. He grabs hold of the other boys shirt tightly, almost anchoring himself to the situation. Andrew is so tall that that he has to tilt his head up and when he exposes his neck, he feels kisses descend lower and lower, until not even his collarbone is safe.
Between breaths, Andrew manages to mumble, "Never thought this would happen. Didn't even know if we were friends anymore."
"Took you long enough to make a move." He feels possessive over those wrinkles at the corner of Andrew's eyes. He wants to be the only one to create them.
"Shut up and take off your shirt."
It's only when they're lying in bed and he's looking up at the ceiling while Andrew lies on him like a rag-dog, does he hear a soft laugh. When he looks down, Andrew is looking at him with a strange, soft smile (that he's only ever seen once and that was a few hours ago). He wonders for a moment if he should feel awkward about the whole situation, but he's too tired to over think things.
~*~
Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from anything in relation to TSN.
Warning: Slash but nothing too major. Swearing.
Pairing(s): Jesse/Andrew
Summary: Jesse finally comes to the realization that his best friend is in love with him. He also realizes that everyone thinks their screwing.
AN: My god, I am so obsessed with this pairing. All of the fanworks for this couple are incredible. I really need moar and moar and moar fanfic and fanart. I can't stop. Must have.
~*~
It's pretty easy to fall into habits, especially when working extends into the early morning and he's suddenly familiar with the sight of the rising sun.
He doesn't mind so much, after all, he gets to drink beer in most of his scenes so it's not like he's ever uncomfortable. There's a strange peace that comes from the night and it fuels his creative edge like nothing else. Somewhere between dusk and dawn, he feels himself slipping into Mark's character and settling in for a long stay. It's odd to truly understand someone's perspective, all the while seeing the inevitable crash at the end.
He's not alone at night, which helps him to cope with the long hours and the unpleasant yawning which hits him at about 12:30. It's almost contagious and he sees a ripple around the room of raised hands and open mouths. He's not the only one who notices and Andrew looks at him from the corner of his eye and his laugh lines start to appear. It's impossible to be moody when the energizer bunny is sitting next to him. Sometimes, when Andrew has thrown him one of his careless smiles, he looks at him a second after it's faded, just to see what he's like without it. The constant change between his American and British accent makes him smile and he can't help the fondness he has for him.
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
He looks up from his phone. They're allowed a short break between filming and they're sitting in faded fold-up chairs, trying not to yawn, "Don't know. Why?"
"We aren't filming tomorrow."
"I know," he says as he looks back down to his phone. Angry Birds is taunting him and he needs to maintain his focus.
"So what are you going to do?"
"Sleep," he says sighing, "Maybe watch a movie. Read or something."
Andrew is suddenly looking nervous, which is strange, since everyone knows that he's nearly fearless. In the distance, he can hear the sound of shouting and the smash of something on hard stone. "2012's out. We should see it."
Jesse looks up at the adjacent wall blankly, something processing in his head that he isn't quite sure of. He does know that he hasn't been off the set with Andrew yet but that they've got on pretty well so far. He does know that sometimes, they get each other coffee and that they know exactly how many sugars to put in. He's obviously friends with Andrew so he can't see anything strange about spending five solid days of filming with him and then seeing a movie together on their day off.
"Okay. Although," he says and Andrew is suddenly looking hesitant again, "I've heard it's pretty shit."
Andrew is smiling again, that brilliant smile which crinkles the skin around his eyes, "I'm in the mood for comedy."
"Cool."
Jesse goes back to Angry Birds, biting his lip when he fails, yet again. Andrew is chatting about apocalyptic movies and it's almost like the soundtrack to his game.
~*~
There at some party, he doesn't really remember the guy who's invited him but it's someone he vaguely remembers and that's good enough for him. He's been pushing desperately hard nights on set and all he wants to do is remind himself of how young he is.
Andrew's in between films so when he invites him to the party, he gets the answer, "It's not like I have anything better to do." They're so used to sterile press parties and launch parties and wrap-up parties that going to a normal, run of the mill party where the main function is to get drunk, is just plain foreign to them. Andrew comes over to his place before hand and he spends an annoying twenty minutes walking in and out of his room with different combinations of shirts. By the end, he isn't too sure how mismatched he really looks because Andrew's smile is just a little too wide and mocking. He gets an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach when he walks back into his room to change his shirt yet again and those eyes still haven't left him.
They arrive fashionably late and his friend gives him a hard hand-shake and the girls around him turn around so that their skin almost glows in the cheap lighting of the apartment. It's a packed room overlooking the city and just dingy enough to ruin with booze and high heels. He's suddenly aware of how many people are looking at him, which he reasons is only natural considering his fame. Andrew's chest is pressed into his back but it's packed so he's probably just being pushed against him.
"I know you," says one girl as she turns to him. She's drinking something (a cruiser, he thinks) that glows pink in her hands. Her eyes flick towards Andrew and her grins widens yet again. "Weren't you both in that movie? About Facebook?"
He nods and can't help but rub the back of his neck with his hand, "Yeah, we were," He laughs a bit awkwardly and Andrew is now standing beside him, his height seemingly magnified. His hand is on his back now and when he looks over at his friend, even though he's grinning, there is something awfully insincere about it. He asks, "Did you see it?"
"No, but maybe I will now." She says and he's not egotistical but his interest is suddenly lost. If she's going to open with an acknowledgment of his films, she might as well have seen them.
"It was nice meeting you... but I've gotta make the rounds." She nods a bit disappointedly and turns back to her circle.
He doesn't make his rounds but instead, Andrew drags him into a side room (a bedroom which is dark except for the reflection of city lights) and tugging his sleeve out of the boy's grasp, Jesse demands, "Are you alright? You haven't said anything since we arrived and it looked like you were about flip off that girl."
Andrew raises his eyebrow and snorts, "I'm fine. You've just got to learn how to pick out the gold-diggers though. She was ready to pounce."
His heart beat has slowed and he's glad that it's just friendly concern for his pocket and his bad choice in women.
"Hey guys, what the hell is up?" Says a guy at the door. Jesse has shaken his hand but he hasn't actually said a proper hello.
"Hey man, nothing much. Just catching a breather. Great party, didn't realize that you knew so many people." He says as the guy waltzes into the room.
"I'm Andrew," says his friend, sticking out his hand and shaking the other with determination.
"Dude, I know who you are. Fuck," says the host, "Can't believe I dragged you both here. Totally thought you weren't going to show up. No-one's seen a freakin hair of yours in person since you made it big," Jesse feels guilty about how true the statement is. He doesn't hang around any of his old friends. He still has heaps of friends but in terms of people he actually wants to hang around, it's really only Justin and Andrew on his list now. "Shit, forgot to say, I'm Kay, cool to meet you Andrew."
Andrew smiles easily and Jesse can tell that his charming grin is flustering Kay. "Thanks for having me. I guess I'll get a drink, if that's alright?" Andrew turns to Jesse as he says this and Jesse shrugs his shoulder.
"Whatever."
"You want anything?"
"Just a beer, thanks."
"See you in a bit." And Andrew's out of the door, his lean figure disappearing around the corner and into the party.
"Sweet catch," says Kay.
"What?" He has no idea what Kay is talking about, maybe the girl he talked to before?
"Andrew. Everyone says your fucking. Good to see it wasn't just a rumor."
His mind is in a vacuum and he can't remember the last time he actually felt his blush coming before seeing it. He knows that they've got a bromance going but he didn't think anyone thought more of it.
"What d'you mean?" He's trying to keep his cool but Kay is leering at him.
"I've been with my girlfriend for two years now and she doesn't even look at me the way he looks at you. Fucking love sick."
"Um. Okay. Well, thanks for that," he says and he suddenly feels like Mark Zuckerberg, trapped in an awkward situation that he can't get out of, "I'll see how Andrew's going with those drinks."
He leaves the room without really saying goodbye and stands in the corner of the room for a moment, his head spinning. His head is telling him that there's nothing, that it's just another rumor but he's never had it spelled out so matter-of-factly to him before. Like it was so inconceivable that they weren't fucking that there's really no point in batting around the bush. He desperately wants a drink and to be alone and to sit in his apartment with his cat and think of what to do.
"You look preoccupied," says a voice and when he glances up, it's Andrew with his drink. He's grinning cheerfully but Jesse is so wrapped up in his fears that he doesn't even think to respond. He just takes his beer and starts drinking. He can feel the other boys eyes on him and the fact that he hadn't ever realized how much he fucking looks at him makes him a bit pissed off. He doesn't talk to Andrew very much and as the night starts to move on, he talks to pretty girls and flirts the best he can with them while drinking and drinking and drinking. He can feels those eyes glued to him the whole night and when he stumbles out of the apartment at three in the morning, nearly vomiting (which he succeeds in doing once back at the apartment), Andrew is by his side, helping him to his feet and taking him home in a taxi.
He doesn't remember much, just the feeling of bile in his throat, grease on his skin and a sleep that could have been better.
When he stumbles out of his room close to noon the next day, Andrew has coffee for him and bacon. He suddenly remembers why he drank so much and flirted with all of the pretty girls and he swallows heavily. The smile that Andrew gives him when he thanks him for the bacon is almost heart-breaking.
~*~
It's not often that they fight but when they do, it's almost like an explosion.
There's so much emotion and constant happiness in their dynamic that when they finally disagree, it's difficult to work out what's anger and what's passion. They've only fought a few times, mostly snapping at each other on set or getting lost on one of their trips off work and having to argue over who understands the map more (it's always Jesse and he never forgets to remind Andrew about the collection of vintage maps he collects and how he loves to draw over them with a black pen to show what is and isn't in the modern world).
It's late at night when it starts.
"So, are you still in for that weekend at my parents?" He asked Jesse a while back to see his home, which is only fair since he's seen Jesse's. At the time, he had agreed impatiently and absent-mindedly put it into his phone calendar (which he incidentally doesn't use anymore).
Jesse looks up from his coffee, his face suddenly drawn and thoughtful, "Oh, shit. I forgot. I'm booked in for promo shooting on saturday arvo. I thought it was next month?" He flicks out his phone and starts going through the calendar, "Damn it, I don't think I can reschedule this one. The photographer is a bit of a prick and I haven't worked with him before."
When he looks over at Andrew, he's surprised by the absolute devastation on the other boys face. "Jesse, you said that you'd come with me. I told my parents, they made up a bed for you and everything."
"Well, shit, Andrew. I can't just not go to this photo shoot. You know what it can be like."
"Yeah, I do. Which is why I know that you should reschedule it. It's not like they're paying you for the pleasure, they should work around your schedule."
He can see that Andrew is getting flustered by the way that his hands move impatiently around: in his hair, scratching his arm and touching his face. Truthfully, he hadn't thought it was that big of a deal but obviously, he had underestimated his friend (yet again). He can feel himself reclining into, what he likes to call, Mark-mode, where he becomes impatient and snappish, although he never raises his voice. "What do you think the director will think if I just up and leave in the middle of filming."
"But you only have that booked for the weekend. Why can't you just reschedule and come with me?" Andrew's expression is almost distressed but Jesse is angry now and he's standing by his error and his commitment to the photographer.
"No. I've scheduled it in and I can't change it."
"Fuck, Jesse. Do you have any idea how much effort I've put into planning this? The fucking airline tickets, which you have to pay me back for. My parents. The fucking tour I booked around London. Jesus, is all you think about yourself?"
"If I where just thinking of myself, I would have gone on your trip. But since I have to consider the release date of this movie, the photographer that was booked, the stylists, make-up artists and director who are all going to be there, I'm quite sure that what I am doing is the very antonym of selfishness."
He's actually overreacting though and it really would be as easy as booking another day. The photographer they have chosen, while being a prick, actually isn't in that high of demand and his make-up artist and stylist would desperately want the long weekend off. But he's annoyed because Andrew is meant to understand that he hates being backed into a corner and that he'd need sometime to actually think of how to act and behave inside his best friends house. He's never even met his family before so his anxiety is already through the roof at the thought of meeting them.
Andrew picks up his coat from the couch seat and looks at him, as if he leaves a bad taste in his mouth, "If you need me, I'll be with my parents. In England."
He walks to the door and slams it loudly so that the noise echoes strangely in the lonely room. Jesse is still angry but he's always been a composed angry and his Mark-mode is still in full gear. He simply looks down at his phone, deletes the calendar entry for the weekend and gets ready for bed.
When he wakes up in the morning, fully expecting a text message from Andrew to have graced his inbox (I'm sorry, we should reschedule then) he glares at the screen angrily when he realizes that there is nothing to feel victorious about. He mulls over his decision the rest of the day and by the time he's sitting in front of T.V. that night, he's seriously starting to miss that constant happy feeling which Andrew used to fill him with.
The next morning, after rooming his cats with his neighbor, he's on a plane. Even though it's a day earlier then he was planning on leaving, he makes no plan to cancel his photography booking. He packs a small bag with one change of clothes, some toiletries and a book and then he's off on the plane to England. He's traveled so much in his life that it really isn't that big of a deal to be flying half-way around the world. He feels more nervous to see his friends face then to arrive in a foreign country. There's a man that wont stop staring at him (he only managed to score cheap back of the plane tickets at the last moment) and eventually he sees a camera being flung out to subtly take pictures of him. He can't imagine that something so boring would end up in the papers but he sighs anyways and gets back to reading. The fact that Andrew suggested the book to him makes it especially important to get through it.
When he gets to England, he realizes that he even though he knows the location of Andrew's house, he doesn't actually know how to get there. He catches the subway (a little girl stares at him until it's uncomfortable), another subway and a taxi and he's still not there. He buys a map, stares it for an hour, forgets to eat, buys some chewing gum and catches another taxi. The last taxi costs him over a hundred pounds but he's willing to take the burden if it makes up for his dickishness.
When he arrives at the middle-class house with it's unassuming exterior and 'quaint' location in the street, he wonders what it would have been like to have grown up in such a foreign place. He walks up to the door and knocks. He hears a distant, "I'll get it," that sounds distantly like his old drama teacher and then, the door is being cheeringly flung open by a woman who is lean and tall and remarkably like her son.
"Oh, hello. I know who you are." She smiles and he tries to muster up the courage to smile back but only manages a rather pathetic example of a grimace.
"Hello, Mrs. Garfield. Is your son home?" He asks tentatively.
She peers at him, "You're the friend that was meant to come up with him. Jesse," she smiles again, "You look in need of a sleep. Come in and I'll get Andrew for you."
He mutters, "Thank you," and follows her inside. It's warm and he can hear laughter from a room at the back. When he rounds a corner, he sees a table, filled with mostly strangers. Andrew is talking to a middle aged woman and hasn't noticed his mother's reappearance.
"Andrew, dear. A guest is here for you."
Andrew turns to look and Jesse feels like his stomach might drop into the floor beneath his feet. Andrew's expression almost glows and there is a strange smile on his face, one that he hasn't seen before. Jesse imagines that he must look like a kicked puppy, in his ragged clothes filled with holes and his unkempt hair. But he can't think of being insecure because Andrew has jumped up and is moving around the table to get to him, "Jesse. What... how did you? You rescheduled!" And then arms are wrapping around him and he's within the tightest, warmest hug he's ever received. He can hear his heart pounding heavily as he wraps his own arms around Andrew's lean form and squeezes back. Unashamedly, Andrew only just manages to tear himself away and turn back to the group.
"Guys, this is Jesse."
The group gives him a bit of a wave and a smile and most of the guests are just grinning. Andrew's mother is beaming and trying not to shoot a knowing glance in their direction.
"Come on," says Andrew as he drags him out of the room, "I need to talk to you for a second."
They are moving up a staircase and into a room that vaguely reminds him of childhood. It's obviously Andrew's room and he sees a framed picture of a small boy with two adults hugging. It makes him smile.
When Andrew stops walking, closes the door and turns to him, he's hardly ready for the way he's pushed against the wall and the feeling of soft lips pressed against his. His mind goes blissfully blank for a few moments, until he realizes that he's against a wall, kissing his best friend while his best friend's family eats downstairs. Not to mention the fact that he just flew around the world to see him. He doesn't actually respond to the kiss though and when Andrew realizes this, he leans back and stares at him. It's weird opening his eyes, feeling the pleasure of a kiss and then seeing his best friend in front of him, his smile slowly drooping to form a worried expression.
"I-I'm... sorry." Says Andrew, because he's obviously taking his reaction as a rejection.
"You just kissed me."
"I... I don't know what came over me."
"You just kissed me."
"Shit. I thought...." Andrew is nearly at the other side of the room and is pacing, up and down on the carpeted floor. His face is pure agony as he runs his hand through his hair.
"I wasn't imagining that, was I?"
"Look Jesse, can we pretend that this never happened? It doesn't have to be a big deal, I can get over it. Just... don't get angry or anything."
"People always told me that you had a thing for me," Andrew has stopped pacing and is staring at him, "I just thought they were imagining things. But you just kissed me so I guess, logically, that they were merely pointing out an accurate observation."
"Shit."
When his mind finally catches up with his brain, he simply walks up to Andrew, looks into his widening eyes and kisses him softly. He can feel Andrew smiling into the kiss and something low and melodious like a laugh escapes within their gasps for air. There's affection in their touches, which is awkward for Jesse because he smells like travel, although Andrew doesn't seem to mind. He's being pushed against a wall again and hands are under his shirt, stroking his skin, almost savoring it. He grabs hold of the other boys shirt tightly, almost anchoring himself to the situation. Andrew is so tall that that he has to tilt his head up and when he exposes his neck, he feels kisses descend lower and lower, until not even his collarbone is safe.
Between breaths, Andrew manages to mumble, "Never thought this would happen. Didn't even know if we were friends anymore."
"Took you long enough to make a move." He feels possessive over those wrinkles at the corner of Andrew's eyes. He wants to be the only one to create them.
"Shut up and take off your shirt."
It's only when they're lying in bed and he's looking up at the ceiling while Andrew lies on him like a rag-dog, does he hear a soft laugh. When he looks down, Andrew is looking at him with a strange, soft smile (that he's only ever seen once and that was a few hours ago). He wonders for a moment if he should feel awkward about the whole situation, but he's too tired to over think things.
~*~