there are some things you just . . . don't try very hard to analyze
because i'm tired of losing this shit to the gmail slipstream, of wasted minutes trying to track it down when we want it again--here's a thing that happened today while i was waiting for Little Sister to pick out her straight-As report card movies:
[to be read to a background chorus of mariah carey's "all i want for christmas is you," probably.]
Me: Puppy tazer at the video store. Oh damn.
B (aka altri_uccelli): With a Candy Kane in his mouth, awwww.
Me: i was thinking kaner brings his BOYFRIEND home for the first time [in the tentative, early stages of "dating," even though they won't call it that, or use the "B" word, and they're taking it subtle and slow, not much of a shift from how they've always been, just easier with the touching (which entails kaner treating jonny like a full-body pillow when they're hanging on the couch, watching tv or just being quiet together, and jonny...does not hate that, not at all) and maybe a little more open with the flirting (which, jonny is forced to admit, is how they've always interacted, though it falls into different conscious lanes in his brain these days), and exactly one awkward conversation acknowledging they're on the same page in this thing they don't want to put words to, and jonny's grateful that patrick sort of forced them to have it and did most of the heavy verbal lifting for them both, despite his own obvious discomfort] and it is VERY VERY STRESSFUL, so much to figure out, he and kaner aren't even at the "spending the night together every night" stage, have been approaching the whole sex thing carefully (when sober) or in fits and starts (when alcohol, rather than neither of them having any idea what the hell they're doing, can be blamed for their sloppiness and virginal lack of technique with the New Stuff), so like, are they going to be put in one bed or is jonny going to be on the basement futon? and they haven't really kissed in front of anyone but jonny WANTS to kiss kaner on christmas, finds himself thinking all these stupid thoughts about holding kaner's hand to keep it warm when they're outside in the snow, or lying with their heads under the christmas tree together to see the lights all from the inside like they did when he and david were kids, and he knows kaner's family likes him as a hockey player and Captain but what if they don't like him for kaner's personal...person, AND JUST--
they land in buffalo after midnight. in the rental car from the airport kaner's speaking in an endless stream, commentary on buffalo landmarks and the childhood memories they evoke, about kane family traditions and what food he's looking forward to most; explaining family structure, the endless array of aunts, uncles and cousins jonny will be faced with during their 3-day stay...his eyes are on the road and he's mostly fine with jonny's silence, is used to it even, but when kaner feels like he's been talking into the inky blackness for too long without a response, he glances at the passenger seat to see if jonny's fallen asleep . . .
and sees a small, furry bundle huddled inside jonny's hoodie and down jacket.
"oh come on," kaner protests. "that's not fair! i can't turn into an adorable puppy when you take me home to meet your family!"
puppy!tazer responds with a semi-apologetic stare.
"way to stack the deck in your favor, asshole," kaner grumbles. but he reaches over with his right hand and scratches jonny in the spot under his chin that he likes best and adds, sotto voce: "they'll like you just fine either way, buddy."
B: With puppy Tazer, I like how it isn't always clear that he changes to avoid situations that are making him feel big difficult emotions, but that sometimes that's it. And actually, I can see this easing the way, because Pat will be cuddling him against his neck, and kissing his face, and maybe even calling him 'baby' so the fam will get a preview of what's going on with them, when Jonny turns back just in time to go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve with approximately 60 Kanes and [ugh I used to know Donna's maiden name and then I forgot it] of all ages.
Me: CAN'T YOU JUST IMAGINE IT, omg, changing back before midnight mass in just enough time that he's rushing to get changed into his suit ("hey," kaner nudges him when he's fresh out of the shower, shoulder pressed in so close jonny's getting heat from the length of kaner's chest alongside his. "i hung it up, it's inside the closet door. meet you downstairs."), still doing up his belt buckle as he jogs down the stairs to where the kanes are waiting, mittens already donned and wool coats buttoned to their necks.
"hey, hi. sorry about that," jonny greets them sheepishly, then fiddles with his tie to distract himself. "do you know where my coat is?" he asks, turning toward kaner, but it's jackie who holds it out to him, impish grin on her face that hits jonny in the soft spot for how patrick it is. it's kind of disconcerting; he doesn't know jackie that well, still tends to think of her as the scrawny pre-teen she was when they first met all those years ago.
"thanks." he flashes her a quick smile and is feeding both arms through the sleeves at once when kaner comes over and wraps jonny's scarf neatly around his neck. then, to jonny's surprise, he tugs both ends and plants a smart kiss on jonny's lips right there in front of god and everybody.
so. there's that out of the way.
"nice to have you back," kaner says, smiling as he lets go. and it's dumb, it's so dumb, but jonny actually thinks, as they all troop out the front door and start dividing up into cars: kaner's grin is brighter than all the lights festooning the front of the house. and it's all for him.
AND THEN,
B: And how much do I want to read that awkward conversation about being on the same page---A LOT THAT'S HOW MUCH.
Me: whatever B wants, B gets (with capitals, even).
Jonny's waiting for Kaner when the elevator lets him off on his floor, leaned in a low slump against the wall, one foot propped, fiddling with his phone one-handed. He looks up when Kaner calls out.
"Yo. Beat me. Sorry about that, I always pick the wrong lane on Randolph."
Jonny shrugs. "Eh... 's no problem."
He looks tired, but Patrick assumes he wouldn't have said yes to Patrick's invitation if he wasn't up for hanging.
"I got you a spare made but I keep forgetting to give you it. Well, first I didn't forget, I lost it. But it was just in a jacket pocket I wore like, the one time, and once I found it I set it . . .. " Patrick trails off when he's a few steps into the foyer and realizes Jonny's no longer at his back. He turns. Jonny's standing frozen in the threshold, shoulder keeping the door propped open. He looks a little gobsmacked.
"Dude," Patrick begins, but then Jonny's shaking his head and moving to catch up.
"What? Uh, sorry. What's for food?"
It's a testament to how worn out Patrick is that the sauce is heating on the stove before it dawns on him what that stall-out was about. It makes his stomach tighten, sensation on that blade-thin edge between anticipation and anxiety. He tries not to let his nerves show, but doing so turns him into kind of a disaster:
He ducks into the fridge, forgets what he was going for, and grabs a bottle of ketchup instead.
"Are we . . . adding that to the sauce?" Jonny asks, a truckload of skepticism packed into the slightest raise of his brows.
"What? No," Patrick says, staring at it for a second before opening the fridge again then closing it spastically, ketchup back in its place among the small phalanx of condiments lined up in the door.
They both turn toward the stove like it's primetime entertainment on display there instead of water trying to boil.
Patrick opens the freezer, going for an ice cube tray this time, but, successfully acquired, he proceeds to pop most of the cubes out onto the floor when he twists and cracks it against the counter too hard. "Oops," he mutters, and drops to the floor to retrieve all the predestined puddles before they can melt.
Jonny joins him in a crouch and silently, methodically, they pick up all the cubes and toss them upwards into the sink. Patrick misses a third time; Jonny sniggers.
"Minus-3 for accuracy."
Patrick tries to laugh, but he's definitely on the downward slide toward 'mess of anxiety,' and it comes out kind of choked instead. Jonny shoots him an odd look, but his eyes dart away as soon as Patrick meets his gaze, and then Jonny's rising to his feet, saying nothing. The timer goes for the pasta and they dart for the drawer with the potholders at the same time. Jonny jerks his hand back like the touch has burned him; like he came in contact with the stove top instead of Patrick's fingers.
"You don't have to take the key if you don't want to!" Patrick blurts out, and is immediately and completely horrified with himself. Way to go, smooth-talker.
"What? No! I mean, yes, I want to!"
The timer's still going off. Jonny's voice is laced with panic, and there are a few seconds where Patrick feels like he's in a free-fall.
But then he lands, and the fermenting mass of nerves in his gut dissipates.
"Yeah?" he asks, sauce and boiling water--everything that isn't Jonny's wide-eyed expression--forgotten.
There's a pause before Jonny responds, words tentative at first, then resolving into sure and solid: two of Patrick's favorite things about Jonny.
"Yeah. Yes. I do."
*
[to be read to a background chorus of mariah carey's "all i want for christmas is you," probably.]
Me: Puppy tazer at the video store. Oh damn.
B (aka altri_uccelli): With a Candy Kane in his mouth, awwww.
Me: i was thinking kaner brings his BOYFRIEND home for the first time [in the tentative, early stages of "dating," even though they won't call it that, or use the "B" word, and they're taking it subtle and slow, not much of a shift from how they've always been, just easier with the touching (which entails kaner treating jonny like a full-body pillow when they're hanging on the couch, watching tv or just being quiet together, and jonny...does not hate that, not at all) and maybe a little more open with the flirting (which, jonny is forced to admit, is how they've always interacted, though it falls into different conscious lanes in his brain these days), and exactly one awkward conversation acknowledging they're on the same page in this thing they don't want to put words to, and jonny's grateful that patrick sort of forced them to have it and did most of the heavy verbal lifting for them both, despite his own obvious discomfort] and it is VERY VERY STRESSFUL, so much to figure out, he and kaner aren't even at the "spending the night together every night" stage, have been approaching the whole sex thing carefully (when sober) or in fits and starts (when alcohol, rather than neither of them having any idea what the hell they're doing, can be blamed for their sloppiness and virginal lack of technique with the New Stuff), so like, are they going to be put in one bed or is jonny going to be on the basement futon? and they haven't really kissed in front of anyone but jonny WANTS to kiss kaner on christmas, finds himself thinking all these stupid thoughts about holding kaner's hand to keep it warm when they're outside in the snow, or lying with their heads under the christmas tree together to see the lights all from the inside like they did when he and david were kids, and he knows kaner's family likes him as a hockey player and Captain but what if they don't like him for kaner's personal...person, AND JUST--
they land in buffalo after midnight. in the rental car from the airport kaner's speaking in an endless stream, commentary on buffalo landmarks and the childhood memories they evoke, about kane family traditions and what food he's looking forward to most; explaining family structure, the endless array of aunts, uncles and cousins jonny will be faced with during their 3-day stay...his eyes are on the road and he's mostly fine with jonny's silence, is used to it even, but when kaner feels like he's been talking into the inky blackness for too long without a response, he glances at the passenger seat to see if jonny's fallen asleep . . .
and sees a small, furry bundle huddled inside jonny's hoodie and down jacket.
"oh come on," kaner protests. "that's not fair! i can't turn into an adorable puppy when you take me home to meet your family!"
puppy!tazer responds with a semi-apologetic stare.
"way to stack the deck in your favor, asshole," kaner grumbles. but he reaches over with his right hand and scratches jonny in the spot under his chin that he likes best and adds, sotto voce: "they'll like you just fine either way, buddy."
B: With puppy Tazer, I like how it isn't always clear that he changes to avoid situations that are making him feel big difficult emotions, but that sometimes that's it. And actually, I can see this easing the way, because Pat will be cuddling him against his neck, and kissing his face, and maybe even calling him 'baby' so the fam will get a preview of what's going on with them, when Jonny turns back just in time to go to midnight mass on Christmas Eve with approximately 60 Kanes and [ugh I used to know Donna's maiden name and then I forgot it] of all ages.
Me: CAN'T YOU JUST IMAGINE IT, omg, changing back before midnight mass in just enough time that he's rushing to get changed into his suit ("hey," kaner nudges him when he's fresh out of the shower, shoulder pressed in so close jonny's getting heat from the length of kaner's chest alongside his. "i hung it up, it's inside the closet door. meet you downstairs."), still doing up his belt buckle as he jogs down the stairs to where the kanes are waiting, mittens already donned and wool coats buttoned to their necks.
"hey, hi. sorry about that," jonny greets them sheepishly, then fiddles with his tie to distract himself. "do you know where my coat is?" he asks, turning toward kaner, but it's jackie who holds it out to him, impish grin on her face that hits jonny in the soft spot for how patrick it is. it's kind of disconcerting; he doesn't know jackie that well, still tends to think of her as the scrawny pre-teen she was when they first met all those years ago.
"thanks." he flashes her a quick smile and is feeding both arms through the sleeves at once when kaner comes over and wraps jonny's scarf neatly around his neck. then, to jonny's surprise, he tugs both ends and plants a smart kiss on jonny's lips right there in front of god and everybody.
so. there's that out of the way.
"nice to have you back," kaner says, smiling as he lets go. and it's dumb, it's so dumb, but jonny actually thinks, as they all troop out the front door and start dividing up into cars: kaner's grin is brighter than all the lights festooning the front of the house. and it's all for him.
AND THEN,
B: And how much do I want to read that awkward conversation about being on the same page---A LOT THAT'S HOW MUCH.
Me: whatever B wants, B gets (with capitals, even).
Jonny's waiting for Kaner when the elevator lets him off on his floor, leaned in a low slump against the wall, one foot propped, fiddling with his phone one-handed. He looks up when Kaner calls out.
"Yo. Beat me. Sorry about that, I always pick the wrong lane on Randolph."
Jonny shrugs. "Eh... 's no problem."
He looks tired, but Patrick assumes he wouldn't have said yes to Patrick's invitation if he wasn't up for hanging.
"I got you a spare made but I keep forgetting to give you it. Well, first I didn't forget, I lost it. But it was just in a jacket pocket I wore like, the one time, and once I found it I set it . . .. " Patrick trails off when he's a few steps into the foyer and realizes Jonny's no longer at his back. He turns. Jonny's standing frozen in the threshold, shoulder keeping the door propped open. He looks a little gobsmacked.
"Dude," Patrick begins, but then Jonny's shaking his head and moving to catch up.
"What? Uh, sorry. What's for food?"
It's a testament to how worn out Patrick is that the sauce is heating on the stove before it dawns on him what that stall-out was about. It makes his stomach tighten, sensation on that blade-thin edge between anticipation and anxiety. He tries not to let his nerves show, but doing so turns him into kind of a disaster:
He ducks into the fridge, forgets what he was going for, and grabs a bottle of ketchup instead.
"Are we . . . adding that to the sauce?" Jonny asks, a truckload of skepticism packed into the slightest raise of his brows.
"What? No," Patrick says, staring at it for a second before opening the fridge again then closing it spastically, ketchup back in its place among the small phalanx of condiments lined up in the door.
They both turn toward the stove like it's primetime entertainment on display there instead of water trying to boil.
Patrick opens the freezer, going for an ice cube tray this time, but, successfully acquired, he proceeds to pop most of the cubes out onto the floor when he twists and cracks it against the counter too hard. "Oops," he mutters, and drops to the floor to retrieve all the predestined puddles before they can melt.
Jonny joins him in a crouch and silently, methodically, they pick up all the cubes and toss them upwards into the sink. Patrick misses a third time; Jonny sniggers.
"Minus-3 for accuracy."
Patrick tries to laugh, but he's definitely on the downward slide toward 'mess of anxiety,' and it comes out kind of choked instead. Jonny shoots him an odd look, but his eyes dart away as soon as Patrick meets his gaze, and then Jonny's rising to his feet, saying nothing. The timer goes for the pasta and they dart for the drawer with the potholders at the same time. Jonny jerks his hand back like the touch has burned him; like he came in contact with the stove top instead of Patrick's fingers.
"You don't have to take the key if you don't want to!" Patrick blurts out, and is immediately and completely horrified with himself. Way to go, smooth-talker.
"What? No! I mean, yes, I want to!"
The timer's still going off. Jonny's voice is laced with panic, and there are a few seconds where Patrick feels like he's in a free-fall.
But then he lands, and the fermenting mass of nerves in his gut dissipates.
"Yeah?" he asks, sauce and boiling water--everything that isn't Jonny's wide-eyed expression--forgotten.
There's a pause before Jonny responds, words tentative at first, then resolving into sure and solid: two of Patrick's favorite things about Jonny.
"Yeah. Yes. I do."
*