An American Comic in London (2/?)
Title: An American Comic in London (2/?)
Author: Yours truly
Fandom: The Daily Show/Spaced
Pairing: Tim Bisley/Jon Stewart, Brian Topp/John Oliver
Rating: R for language, drug use, and couch sexings
Warning: AU, crossover, drug use, complete weirdness but not really crack, and John Oliver actually being predatory.
A/N: Holy update, Batman! So basically I start this *incoherent mumble* ago and just recently got back into it. Soooo yes. It’s a crossover! There’s sex! And British men! And Star Wars! And the sweet ganja times. Anyway, big props to _lady_vanilla_ for not only partially inspiring this crazy ass venture but reading over my incoherency and informing me of when my Americaness was jumping out and yelling “Soccer! Elevators! The correct way of saying tomato!” thus ruining the whole effect. So enjoy and hopefully it won’t take me another *mumbles incoherently again* years to get the next chapter out.
Oh, right, and if you’re unfamiliar with Spaced, at least watch the first episode :)
Length: 5,279
Feedback: Please comment. I need to know if this is too stupid for life. Also, concrit welcome.
Summary: A story of battlebots, boring pubs, pot, Star Wars, misunderstandings, and unlikely relationships.
Chapter One
AN AMERICAN COMIC IN LONDON (2/?)
“I just don’t see what’s so great about it.”
“What’s so great about it? What’s so great about it? ”
“Yeah, I mean… it just seems to be a lot of flash and shit blowing up. Where’s the substance?”
“The… the substance? Are you shitting me?! It’s… at its very essence it’s about the struggle between good and evil! Of growing up and taking responsibility for your own weaknesses! Of how the little guy can win in the end!”
“Yeah, but isn’t it all a little simplistic? Like… black and white?”
“Jesus! No, it isn’t. Look at Vader: he’s immensely complicated!”
“I don’t really see it. All I see is the stilted dialogue and lightsabers getting thrown around.”
“Stilted…? Dear lord. Why am I even speaking to you? I don’t understand how you can’t love those movies. I mean, have you even watched all of them?”
Jon’s eyes dropped to his lager, a small smile quirking his lips. “Uh… well, I saw the first one.”
Tim, horror replacing the righteous indignation that had been filling him before this new turn in the conversation, narrowed his eyes. “Which first one? The first first one or the shitty, awful, horrible new first one?”
“Uh…” Jon flicked his gaze up to playfully meet Tim’s. “The one I saw had Liam Neilson in it. Is that the bad one?”
“You…” Tim leaned back in his seat and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “You’re judging the whole franchise on the Phantom fucking Menace?!” He pulled his beanie off, shaking his head before plunking it on the table. “Ohhh no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Noooooooo,” he moaned against the wood.
John perked up his head from where he had been murmuring something to Brian. “Oy,” he said to Jon. “He all right?”
Jon shrugged and took a sip of his lager. “No idea. I mentioned the Phantom Menace,” at these words, Tim groaned and began chanting “no” again, “and that happened.”
Brian’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, God. You didn’t.”
“What’s wrong with the Phantom Menace?” John asked, prompting another anguished groan to come from Tim. “Well, I mean, besides the obvious.”
“It’s been the cause of much emotional pain on Tim’s part,” Brian stated, squirming in apparent discomfort. “It’s almost beautiful in a sad, pathetic way…” He trailed off, looking as if this thought was cause for much contemplation. Jon furrowed his brow at him before turning his attention back to Tim.
“Wait, so that one’s bad?” Tim rolled his head to turn his baleful eyes up at Jon. “Should I take that as a yes?’
“God, yes,” Tim sighed, sitting upright again. “I mean, just holding that movie in the same class as the old ones… just using it to judge the old - the old genius and… I mean… it boggles the mind!”
Jon bit his lip like he was trying not to laugh. “Sorry. I had no idea this was such a hot button issue for you.”
“Yes, Tim lost his job over it a bit ago,” Brian murmured, his expression brooding as he stared at the table. “He shouted at a child. He got it back though. The, er, job. Not the child.”
“I did not shout at a child, Brian!” Tim huffed. “I merely… I was trying to dissuade him from wasting his pocket money on a piece of shite merchandise from a blockbuster clusterfuck that was an affront not only to the senses, but to the very core of human decency!” He let out a tormented grunt and raised a fist into the air. “Why, George Lucas? Why did you betray me?” With that, he plunked his head to the table again.
John leaned into Brian. “Does he always react this way?”
Brian shrugged, sipping at his drink. “Yes. Just be glad he didn’t go on a rant about how much he despises Jar Jar.”
All three men paused as an even more sorrowful noise came from Tim whose face was still determinately smushed onto the surface of the table. John was the first to blink and look Brian’s way again. “Wait… didn’t this movie come out a while ago?”
Brian pursed his lips and stared at the back of Tim’s head. “Yeah. It’s been a difficult couple of years.”
“No one understands my pain,” Tim mumbled. “No one.”
Jon shook his head in amusement before placing an awkward hand on Tim’s shoulder. The warmth of his fingers seeped through the fabric of Tim’s shirt, causing a pleasant tingle to crawl up his spine. “Listen, here’s an idea: how about when we go we smoke up you can show me the good movies? I’m sure you could convince me of their genius.”
Tim immediately perked up though the action of sitting upright caused Jon’s hand to slide from his shoulder. Tim ignored the disheartening twinge of disappointment that twitched in his stomach. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jon chuckled, taking a sip of his lager. “I mean, how bad could it be?”
“Mind,” John chimed in, “if he doesn’t like it, he’ll make you hate life itself. Jon has a knack for ruining perfectly decent movies.”
“Oh my God!” Jon laughed. “Dude, I’m sorry I ripped apart Braveheart! How many times can I apologize?”
“I just don’t see why you have to hate Mel Gibson so much!”
“He hates the Jews! What do you expect? Besides, running a horse through a guy’s house? Come on.”
“So, can we go now?” Tim eagerly interrupted just as John was preparing to launch a retort. All three men turned to give him a bemused look… though Brian still just looked rather pained. But maybe there was bemusement behind the pain? Tim couldn’t really tell and didn’t really care. He was going to get to pop someone’s Star Wars cherry.
Of course, the whole thing was ruined by the mere fact that Jon had already been tainted by the Phantom Menace (Tim inwardly shuddered at the thought), but to be fair, that could almost be a good preparation because the absolute awesomeness of the originals would then be all the more awesome by comparison.
John got up with a wink as Jon continued to smirk Tim’s way. “Eager are you?” he asked. Tim just shrugged, toying with his glass.
“He weeps like a child at the end…” Brian murmured, raising a contemplative brow and staring into the distance.
“No! Well, yeah but…” Tim sputtered. “It’s very emotional!”
“Well, now we have to watch it,” Jon said, getting to his feet.
John joined them, causing Brian to start as he set a hand on his shoulder. “Jon gets perverse pleasure from watching grown men cry,” John said, slipping on his coat. “I once saw him elbow a man in the eye just to get some tears out of him. Ruthless, he is. Plain ruthless.”
Brian eyed Jon nervously as they all made their way to the door. “He’s joking,” Jon assured him, sending John a glare. “I elbowed that guy in the eye because it was my only defense.”
“Oh, right…” John remarked, a smirk on his face. “He had you above his head, didn’t he? Like you were a midget. A midget at a midget-tossing competition.”
Jon stopped and shook his head, his shoulders slumped. “I hate you. I hate you so much, it almost hurts me. I can’t help that I’m vertically challenged.”
John swung a companionable arm over his shoulder and ruffled his hair. “And we love you for it.” With that, he dropped back to walk beside Brian who looked rather flustered as John hooked arms with him. Tim, trying not to feel flummoxed by this show of affection, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his attention to Jon once more.
“Did you really elbow a bloke in the eye?”
Jon laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Tim smiled in response, a happy flutter stirring in his stomach. “Uh, yes actually. I said something that I thought was funny to a dude who definitely did not find it funny and, lo and behold, he tried to kill me.”
“Jesus,” Tim laughed. “What happened?”
“Well, John came to my rescue. Actually, that’s how we met. This guy was holding me above his head and I brought my elbow down onto his face so he dropped me and there was John, my knight in shining armor. He caught me and dragged me out of there. That was my first night in England.” Jon shook his head in self-deprecation, his smile milder and less sardonic. He had really kind eyes when he wasn’t looking so… smirky. “I guess I just have a knack for getting my ass kicked wherever I go.”
“Well, I seem to have a similar skill.” At the skeptical look Jon sent his way, Tim burst out laughing. “Don’t believe me? I’m a cartoonist. I’ve been obsessed with Star Wars since I was seven. I routinely wank to Sarah Michelle Gellar. I’m pretty much the quintessential nerd.”
Jon let out a loud and throaty laugh, throwing his head back. “I personally just have all the charms of a smart-ass, short Jew. Somehow that doesn’t engender me to the swarthy Scotsmen crowd.”
“Perhaps it’s because you belittle Braveheart.” Jon laughed again, prompting another smile from Tim. They continued the rest of the way to the flat in relative silence, both mainly listening to John’s rambunctious stories aimed at Brian and Brian’s uneasy yet happy responses. Tim was feeling more and more troubled by the exchange; Brian was now leaning into John, his usually awkward and stiff movements relaxing. John was grinning from ear to ear. Jon seemed to notice as well, an amused smile on his face coupled with a raised eyebrow indicating that he too saw the obvious flirting.
“Well, here we are,” Tim announced once they made it to the gate.
“This is actually pretty nice.” Jon kicked a can that was lying on the sidewalk. “I mean, besides the trash and shit. What’s with the shopping cart?”
Tim opened the gate and made his way to the door. “What shopping cart?”
“Well!” John startled them by clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. “I’m knackered! Brian?” Both Jon and Tim turned to look at the pair as Brian gawked, his face turning red. Jon rolled his eyes.
“Er…” Brian mumbled, fumbling with his keys. “Er, yes, actually, I am. Tired, that is. Knackered. Yes.” He pushed his key into the lock as Tim stood there and stared at him. “Oh!” Brian put up his index finger as he remembered something, his keys dropping to the ground. Tim sighed and bent to pick them up, putting them in the lock to finish opening the door. “But I only have my bed! I don’t know where you two will…” He gestured wordlessly to Jon and John.
Tim opened his mouth when John cut him off. “I can just bunk up with you, eh Brian?”
Tim furrowed his brow as Jon rolled his eyes again, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “My, what a shocking proposal,” Tim heard him mutter. John sent him a lecherous smirk and a wink before looking back to Brian with expectation.
“Oh… er…” Brian fluttered his fingers, his brow knit in consternation. “What about…” He waved a hand Jon’s way.
“Oh, he can go on with Tim, yeah? They already have plans! Star Wars and that.” John clapped Jon on the back, earning himself a narrow-eyed look in return.
Tim fiddled with Brian’s keys before handing them his way. “Uh, that’s fine. My flatmate’s away so he can crash at my place…” He glanced Jon’s way to see a small smile being aimed at him. He hoped that the tinge of red rising on his cheeks wouldn’t be visible in the half light.
“See? All settled! All right, Brian?” Brian still looked unsure but, with John grinning at him like a bloody pocket full of fucking sunshine, he smiled in that quiet (if not, as Tim considered it, mildly creepy) way of his and shrugged.
“Suppose that’s, erm, fine.” He glanced Tim’s way again, his expression hanging between a pleased smile and a befuddled frown as the corners of his mouth turned in opposite directions. “You sure that’s fine Tim?”
Tim, to his own surprise, just shrugged. “Uh, yeah, that’s…”
“Splendid!” John grabbed Brian by the shoulders and pushed him towards his apartment door, hardly waiting for him to unlock it before propelling them both through. “Night you two!” he called, his voice cheery as he winked at Jon again and shut the door behind them.
The two men left standing in the hallway exchanged a mutual look of embarrassment before shuffling their feet. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Jon cleared his throat.
“Dude, you sure you’re okay with this?” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, his expression meek and apologetic.
Tim waved a dismissing hand. “Oh, yeah sure. I mean, you’re providing me with pot, yeah? Letting you stay with me’s the least I can do.”
Jon smiled again in that genuine way and Tim found himself glancing to the ground, his face heating up even more. “Look, I’m really sorry about him.” Jon gave a dark glance to the door that John and Brian had disappeared through. “He can’t help it that he’s,” he raised his voice in the direction of Brian’s apartment, “A HORNY ASSHOLE SOMETIMES.”
Tim chuckled a grabbed his beanie from his head before beginning to ascend the stairs. “I’m right up this way.”
Jon nodded and followed, hanging a pace behind Tim as they reached the door. Fumbling with his keys, Tim opened the lock and made his way inside, that uncertain silence descending again.
“So… movie?” Jon asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his rather large jacket and a small smile on his face. He almost looked shy.
“Yeah, sure.” Tim made his way to the television and perused his massive movie collection. “Sorry the place is a right mess. Daisy and I aren’t exactly the cleanly types.”
Jon plopped down on the couch, opting to not remove his coat. His eyes cast over the rest of the apartment. “Daisy?”
“Yeah. My flatmate.” Jon cocked an eyebrow, causing Tim to smile. “Just my flatmate.”
Jon nodded sagely. “Ah.”
Did he look pleased by that information? Tim could swear he did. Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to the movies. “So, do you want to watch the new old version or the old old version?”
Jon quirked an eyebrow again. “The difference being…?”
“Well, the new old version is on DVD and has all this special effects bollocks whereas the old old version is on VHS and is sans all that CGI, George-Lucas-went-mad-with-a-computer shit.”
Jon smiled again as Tim switched on the telly, the blue light casting flickering shadows over the room. “Well, I’m a bare bones kind of guy myself.”
Tim grinned. “Good man.”
As Tim set up the tape, he turned to find Jon holding up a small baggy and smiling with a twinkle in his eye. “So, pot?”
Tim had completely forgotten in his Star Wars haste. “Oh, right, yeah of course.”
“You got papers?”
“In the drawer of the coffee table…” As Jon rifled through the drawer, Tim dithered for a moment as he felt inexplicably incapable of deciding where to sit. Floor? Bean bag?
…Couch?
Sure, the couch made most sense, but something about it felt untoward. Or something. Still, he was probably just being paranoid or was feeling weirded out by the whole Brian randomly being gay thing, so he decided to man up and just sit on the damn couch.
So what if he just happened to sit as far as possible at the opposite end from Jon?
Jon rolled the spliff, tonguing a wet strip along the edge of the paper before looking down on it in satisfaction. Tim looked away, feeling a bit flustered at the sight of the pink tip poking between Jon’s lips. He also didn’t know whether he found the fact that Jon didn’t ask if Tim was bothered by his saliva annoying or not.
“Wanna start it?” Jon asked, breaking Tim out of his reverie.
“What? The movie or…?”
Jon smiled, the blue light of the television reflecting in his eyes. “The movie.”
“Oh. Right.”
He hit play, Jon lit the joint, and soon Tim was covered in the warm blanket of Star Wars and marijuana smoke. The sat in relative silence and it was only when Darth Vader was making his entrance though Jon cleared his throat. Tim, though enraptured by the Sith Lord, looked his way. Jon was staring at the joint in his fingers and glanced up at Tim before handing it his way.
Tim was looking back at the movie and breathing in another breath of smoke when Jon cleared his throat again and asked, “So... you didn’t know Brian was gay, huh?”
Tim choked, coughing and wheezing as tears filled his eyes. “Hah,” he laughed weakly once he regained his composure, handing the joint back to Jon. “Uh… no. Not exactly.” Jon gave him a questioning look. “Well, I mean, I thought he was gay right off but then he had this, well… this thing with Daisy’s friend, Twist, though she is a right nutter so who knows, maybe she turned him, but seeing as John and Brian have known each other since uni I guess he’s been gay since then? Maybe? I don’t know.” Tim lapsed into silence, his rambling losing steam. “Uh… so, basically, no. I didn’t.” Jon handed him back the joint from which he took a grateful hit. “I did not.”
Tim smiled at him, looking almost apologetic. “Sorry, dude. I had assumed you’d known.”
“Well, Brian and I… we’re not especially close. I actually didn’t think Brian was all that close to anyone, really, with him being him. So… yeah.” He lapsed into silence again, handing the joint back to Jon. “Did you know John was…?”
Jon’s face broke into a wide smile and Tim noticed in the corner of his eye that R2 had just been picked up by the Jawas. “Hah, yeah. He tried to get me to fuck him within the first week of us moving in together.”
Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “I… wow. How did that go?”
“I basically shut him down. But nicely. I mean… I still consider him a good friend. He’s just not my type.” Jon’s smile became a bit more mischievous. “You know?”
Tim took back the joint and tried to give a confident smile. “Hah. Right.” The movie caught his attention again. “Ooh, here comes a great part.”
They sat in silence through the rest of the movie, making their way through two more joints and settling on their third at the start of The Empire Strikes Back. Tim could barely keep his eyes open by the time they made it to Cloud City.
“Oh, Lando,” Tim sighed, shaking his fist at the telly. “You betraying bastard.”
“What?” Jon asked, blinking his bleary eyes up from where he was attempting to roll another joint. “What? I thought he was… isn’t he helping them?”
“Shh.” Tim waved a hand at him. “Just watch.”
When the inevitable betrayal came, Jon yelled “ASSHOLE!” and threw a magazine at the television. Tim snorted and glanced at the forgotten paper and marijuana on the table.
Jon settled back into the couch, looking small in his oversized coat (which he still inexplicably had on) and the shadows of the room. His hair was also a bit more mussed than before; the curls had freed themselves a bit, making them look… fluffy. Tim felt a strange urge to pull one to see if it would bounce back into place. And to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
“Lando is an asshole,” Jon declared again with the kind of certainty that only comes with marijuana, sinking even lower into the couch. “But… but he’s kind of an intriguing asshole. Sexy, you know?”
Tim laughed before he realized what Jon had said. Wait… what? “Sexy?” he asked, unable to come up with anything more intelligent. He laughed again but it died too quickly, sounding awkward where it hung.
Jon ignored it. “Yeah.” He waved a limp hand in the direction of the television. “You know. He’s all… conflicted and shit. It’s kind of hot.”
“Hot?” Tim waggled his head. “Wait… didn’t you… are you gay?”
Jon snorted, his chin now on his chest and his eyes still glowing in the light of the telly. “Eh. I don’t like labels.”
The air in the room was starting to feel progressively thicker and the couch seemed to have shrunk in the past five minutes. Tim struggled with finding the right words. “Well, yeah, neither do I, but labels… they’re helpful, right? In making confusing situations… less confusing?”
“Well,” Jon drawled, still slouched over. “I guess the best label for me would then be…” His eyes dragged across the room, finally settling their heavy gaze on Tim. “Sexually ambiguous?”
Tim, feeling tight and constrained and much, much too high, coughed then laughed at a strange pitch that sounded unlike his actual laugh. So he coughed again and attempted to laugh once more only it still sounded hollow and frail.
“Ah,” he said finally, his voice odd to his own ears. “Ah, that’s… interesting.”
There was a loaded silence then, Jon’s eyes not leaving Tim’s and Tim feeling increasingly flustered.
Jon didn’t break his gaze as he tilted his head, his lids heavy and his eyebrow raised. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice low.
Tim swallowed, hard, not sure of how to respond. “I… you said John isn’t your type.”
A small smile flitted across Jon’s face as he sat up a little straighter. “Yeah, because he’s John, not because he has a dick.” The words were light with a note of kindness and Tim felt the strange urge to laugh. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Tim said a little too fast. “No. I just… I’ve never really encountered something, uh, like this before.” He eyed Jon, feeling sheepish and entirely out of his depth. He wasn’t even sure what this was. “You know?”
Tim broke the eye contact when Jon began to slide across the couch, inching his way towards Tim until they were thigh-to-thigh, his body warmth seeping through the fabric of Tim’s jeans where their legs touched. Tim fought the urge to tug at his collar as his airways became constricted but stopped himself, thinking it was a bit too cliché even for him. Jon didn’t move beyond that point, just settling so he was leaned against Tim’s side. Sitting up a little straighter, Tim gripped his hands together and settled them in his lap. Jon just slouched, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“It’s not that difficult, you know.” Tim’s eyes snapped back to meet Jon’s. They were now much closer and Tim dropped the gaze almost immediately, opting instead to look at the edge of his t-shirt as he worried it with his thumb. Jon cleared his throat and Tim could see him tilt his head out of the corner of his eye. “You know?”
Tim grappled with what to say but decided instead to silently give a half-shrug and mumble something incoherent. He could see Jon smirk out of the corner of his eye in a way that was far too fetching and, really, Jon was kind of a bastard for looking at him like that. With his eyes all… knowing and… lust-filled and… gay. Gay. This was all too gay.
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “I,” he stated, “feel a bit, er, out of my depth.” He fell silent as his thought from before was now out there, all awkward and… awkward.
Jon shrugged, his arm shifting next to him. “Again, does it make you…?”
“Uncomfortable?” Tim finished for him, fighting the hysterical laughter that was suddenly bubbling up inside of him. “I’m British. I’m always uncomfortable.”
Jon laughed, his voice throaty, and Tim gulped. “Okay, well, just tell me when it becomes too much, okay?”
Tim found himself nodding, though he was pretty sure they were well beyond the point of this being too much. He still couldn’t look at Jon but saw him taking off his coat, the material shushing against the couch as he slipped his arms out. He was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath, all understated and manly and, good God, how the hell could this bloke be serious about this? Jon was also still smirking, causing the heat in Tim’s collar to rise to an almost intolerable level.
“Tim?” He jerked his head to find Jon looking at him, the smirk turning into a kinder smile. Relaxing a half-fraction, he met Jon’s eyes for a moment before looking away again.
“Yeah?”
“Just…” Jon looked off into the distance, like he was thinking, before settling his gaze on Tim again. “Do what comes naturally.”
Tim choked out a laugh. “Naturally? I hardly think any of this is-“
His words became strangled as Jon laid a deliberate hand on his inner thigh. Tim squirmed, shutting his eyes as he felt his racing heartbeat settle decidedly in his groin. Taking a deep breath, he reopened his eyes.
It was time to take the little red pill.
Alright, he thought to himself, down the rabbit hole…
Fidgeting for a moment, he fought with what to do with his hands before shifting himself to face Jon more directly and placing a palm on the side of his neck. Eyes flicking down to Jon’s mouth, he saw the other man regarding him with no small amount of pleased surprise. Going with it, Tim rubbed his thumb along his jawline, feeling Jon swallow hard under the heel of his hand. Taking a deep breath, Tim shifted again, sliding his other arm around Jon’s shoulders as he pulled him forward. He couldn’t help but notice that Jon’s lips twitched once more into a small smirk before he pressed his own against them.
They stayed like that for a moment, awkwardly pressed against one another until Jon made an impatient noise and slid the hand on Tim’s thigh up a bit higher, causing a deep groan to build in the back of Tim’s throat. Evidently Jon took this as some sort of encouragement because with that he began to move, his lips insistent on Tim’s as his other hand slid up the back of his shirt to massage the skin there. Another unbidden groan escaped him as he pushed back, opening his mouth as Jon slipped his tongue inside. The hand on his thigh moved up once more, cupping Tim through his trousers as his body gave an involuntary shudder. He felt Jon grin in the kiss as they shuffled together, trying to gain purchase on the couch while still remaining connected; Tim’s hands now gripping Jon’s hair as Jon popped the fly of his trousers open. He felt that momentary blind of panic, the one that screamed “YOU’RE A BLOODY MAN, DAMMIT” before the thought shattered as Jon slipped his fingers into his boxers.
This time Tim groaned outright, Jon swallowing it as he pulled Tim out, fisting his length. He stuttered for a moment before cursing against Tim’s lips, pulling his hand away.
“Left-handed,” he explained when Tim’s blinked at him with distressed bleary eyes. With that, he pulled Tim towards him again and ran his fingers up Tim’s length, causing a breathy whimper to escape him. Jon just grinned again, making Tim realize they weren’t really kissing anymore, just panting against each other as Jon watched his own handiwork, his mouth open slightly and his gaze hooded. Tim, swallowing hard, found the image to be too much, dropping his head back as Jon’s touch became more rigorous.
Suffice to say, Jon was a fucking pro at this. He must, Tim concluded, masturbate a lot if he was that good at it. This thought turned into another moan that he muffled into Jon’s shirt, feeling a wet spot form where his breath panted out. Jon pressed the side of his face to Tim’s head, his gasps sounding harsh in Tim’s ear as he continued.
Fuck, Tim thought. Fucking fuck. It was coming, he could feel it and, Jesus Buffy-loving Christ, was he fifteen? Could he not get a handjob without popping his wad within five minutes? But the pot made him feel like, maybe, it had been much longer and, God, Jon had just been looking at him all night and his thighs began to seize as he pumped himself into Jon’s hand.
“Fuck,” he gasped into Jon’s shirt. “Shit, shit…” He could feel the burning in the pit of his stomach and his balls begin to tense as a rushing started to fill his ears.
“Tim,” Jon gasped, his voice low and gravely and so unlike any girl’s that it made Tim shudder. “Tim, it’s okay,” he whispered, breath hot in Tim’s ear, “just come, Tim. I want to watch you.”
“Fffffuck…” Tim started before it turned into a half-sob, half-groan, white-hot heat pouring through his veins as suddenly the world rushed away and his body convulsed into itself. Jon continued stroking him until he was done, waves of pleasure rolling over him and leaving him in a stupor.
He was still in this stupor when he realized the hand on him was gone and that Jon was now making small grunting noises as he shuddered against Tim. Shaking his head like a dog shaking off water, he blinked to see Jon stroking his own cock, his head thrown back.
“Jon, I-“ he reached out but Jon batted him away, giving him a look before suddenly coming himself, his eyes screwed up and his breath coming out in controlled gasps. Once he was done he stared at his hands before giving Tim a small, self-reproaching look and a smile.
“Jon,” Tim said, trying to not feel bothered, “I would’ve…” But Jon waved him off again.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, still inspecting the mess they had made. When Tim didn’t stop staring at him he finally glanced up to give him a real smile. “Seriously, dude.” Tim thought he rather would worry about it, but then Jon was whipping off his shirt and cleaning them both up with it, his nose wrinkled and his gaze intent. Tim just watched him.
“I…” he started to say, but Jon held up a silencing hand.
“Dude, really, shut up,” he said, his tone not unkind. When Tim dropped his gaze, he heard Jon give a small sigh. With that, he leaned forward and gave Tim a small peck on the lips before pulling away. Smiling more fully, he regarded Tim. “Let’s just go to sleep.”
“Fine,” Tim half-grumbled, settling back when Jon grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him down so they were effectively spooning with Jon’s bare chest against his back. Secretly, Tim was a huge fan of cuddling but he thought being tossed off by another man was enough gayness for one day so he better well not tell Jon how pleased he was by this development. “I was just going to say thank you.”
He felt Jon smile into his neck. “You’re welcome,” he whispered hotly into his ear.
Shivering, Tim let the drowsiness wash over him, deciding to leave the reemerging uncertainty burgeoning in his stomach untouched til morning.
To be continued...
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons or copyrighted fictional persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', ‘Spaced’, any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
Author: Yours truly
Fandom: The Daily Show/Spaced
Pairing: Tim Bisley/Jon Stewart, Brian Topp/John Oliver
Rating: R for language, drug use, and couch sexings
Warning: AU, crossover, drug use, complete weirdness but not really crack, and John Oliver actually being predatory.
A/N: Holy update, Batman! So basically I start this *incoherent mumble* ago and just recently got back into it. Soooo yes. It’s a crossover! There’s sex! And British men! And Star Wars! And the sweet ganja times. Anyway, big props to _lady_vanilla_ for not only partially inspiring this crazy ass venture but reading over my incoherency and informing me of when my Americaness was jumping out and yelling “Soccer! Elevators! The correct way of saying tomato!” thus ruining the whole effect. So enjoy and hopefully it won’t take me another *mumbles incoherently again* years to get the next chapter out.
Oh, right, and if you’re unfamiliar with Spaced, at least watch the first episode :)
Length: 5,279
Feedback: Please comment. I need to know if this is too stupid for life. Also, concrit welcome.
Summary: A story of battlebots, boring pubs, pot, Star Wars, misunderstandings, and unlikely relationships.
Chapter One
AN AMERICAN COMIC IN LONDON (2/?)
“I just don’t see what’s so great about it.”
“What’s so great about it? What’s so great about it? ”
“Yeah, I mean… it just seems to be a lot of flash and shit blowing up. Where’s the substance?”
“The… the substance? Are you shitting me?! It’s… at its very essence it’s about the struggle between good and evil! Of growing up and taking responsibility for your own weaknesses! Of how the little guy can win in the end!”
“Yeah, but isn’t it all a little simplistic? Like… black and white?”
“Jesus! No, it isn’t. Look at Vader: he’s immensely complicated!”
“I don’t really see it. All I see is the stilted dialogue and lightsabers getting thrown around.”
“Stilted…? Dear lord. Why am I even speaking to you? I don’t understand how you can’t love those movies. I mean, have you even watched all of them?”
Jon’s eyes dropped to his lager, a small smile quirking his lips. “Uh… well, I saw the first one.”
Tim, horror replacing the righteous indignation that had been filling him before this new turn in the conversation, narrowed his eyes. “Which first one? The first first one or the shitty, awful, horrible new first one?”
“Uh…” Jon flicked his gaze up to playfully meet Tim’s. “The one I saw had Liam Neilson in it. Is that the bad one?”
“You…” Tim leaned back in his seat and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “You’re judging the whole franchise on the Phantom fucking Menace?!” He pulled his beanie off, shaking his head before plunking it on the table. “Ohhh no. No. No, no, no, no, no, no. Noooooooo,” he moaned against the wood.
John perked up his head from where he had been murmuring something to Brian. “Oy,” he said to Jon. “He all right?”
Jon shrugged and took a sip of his lager. “No idea. I mentioned the Phantom Menace,” at these words, Tim groaned and began chanting “no” again, “and that happened.”
Brian’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, God. You didn’t.”
“What’s wrong with the Phantom Menace?” John asked, prompting another anguished groan to come from Tim. “Well, I mean, besides the obvious.”
“It’s been the cause of much emotional pain on Tim’s part,” Brian stated, squirming in apparent discomfort. “It’s almost beautiful in a sad, pathetic way…” He trailed off, looking as if this thought was cause for much contemplation. Jon furrowed his brow at him before turning his attention back to Tim.
“Wait, so that one’s bad?” Tim rolled his head to turn his baleful eyes up at Jon. “Should I take that as a yes?’
“God, yes,” Tim sighed, sitting upright again. “I mean, just holding that movie in the same class as the old ones… just using it to judge the old - the old genius and… I mean… it boggles the mind!”
Jon bit his lip like he was trying not to laugh. “Sorry. I had no idea this was such a hot button issue for you.”
“Yes, Tim lost his job over it a bit ago,” Brian murmured, his expression brooding as he stared at the table. “He shouted at a child. He got it back though. The, er, job. Not the child.”
“I did not shout at a child, Brian!” Tim huffed. “I merely… I was trying to dissuade him from wasting his pocket money on a piece of shite merchandise from a blockbuster clusterfuck that was an affront not only to the senses, but to the very core of human decency!” He let out a tormented grunt and raised a fist into the air. “Why, George Lucas? Why did you betray me?” With that, he plunked his head to the table again.
John leaned into Brian. “Does he always react this way?”
Brian shrugged, sipping at his drink. “Yes. Just be glad he didn’t go on a rant about how much he despises Jar Jar.”
All three men paused as an even more sorrowful noise came from Tim whose face was still determinately smushed onto the surface of the table. John was the first to blink and look Brian’s way again. “Wait… didn’t this movie come out a while ago?”
Brian pursed his lips and stared at the back of Tim’s head. “Yeah. It’s been a difficult couple of years.”
“No one understands my pain,” Tim mumbled. “No one.”
Jon shook his head in amusement before placing an awkward hand on Tim’s shoulder. The warmth of his fingers seeped through the fabric of Tim’s shirt, causing a pleasant tingle to crawl up his spine. “Listen, here’s an idea: how about when we go we smoke up you can show me the good movies? I’m sure you could convince me of their genius.”
Tim immediately perked up though the action of sitting upright caused Jon’s hand to slide from his shoulder. Tim ignored the disheartening twinge of disappointment that twitched in his stomach. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jon chuckled, taking a sip of his lager. “I mean, how bad could it be?”
“Mind,” John chimed in, “if he doesn’t like it, he’ll make you hate life itself. Jon has a knack for ruining perfectly decent movies.”
“Oh my God!” Jon laughed. “Dude, I’m sorry I ripped apart Braveheart! How many times can I apologize?”
“I just don’t see why you have to hate Mel Gibson so much!”
“He hates the Jews! What do you expect? Besides, running a horse through a guy’s house? Come on.”
“So, can we go now?” Tim eagerly interrupted just as John was preparing to launch a retort. All three men turned to give him a bemused look… though Brian still just looked rather pained. But maybe there was bemusement behind the pain? Tim couldn’t really tell and didn’t really care. He was going to get to pop someone’s Star Wars cherry.
Of course, the whole thing was ruined by the mere fact that Jon had already been tainted by the Phantom Menace (Tim inwardly shuddered at the thought), but to be fair, that could almost be a good preparation because the absolute awesomeness of the originals would then be all the more awesome by comparison.
John got up with a wink as Jon continued to smirk Tim’s way. “Eager are you?” he asked. Tim just shrugged, toying with his glass.
“He weeps like a child at the end…” Brian murmured, raising a contemplative brow and staring into the distance.
“No! Well, yeah but…” Tim sputtered. “It’s very emotional!”
“Well, now we have to watch it,” Jon said, getting to his feet.
John joined them, causing Brian to start as he set a hand on his shoulder. “Jon gets perverse pleasure from watching grown men cry,” John said, slipping on his coat. “I once saw him elbow a man in the eye just to get some tears out of him. Ruthless, he is. Plain ruthless.”
Brian eyed Jon nervously as they all made their way to the door. “He’s joking,” Jon assured him, sending John a glare. “I elbowed that guy in the eye because it was my only defense.”
“Oh, right…” John remarked, a smirk on his face. “He had you above his head, didn’t he? Like you were a midget. A midget at a midget-tossing competition.”
Jon stopped and shook his head, his shoulders slumped. “I hate you. I hate you so much, it almost hurts me. I can’t help that I’m vertically challenged.”
John swung a companionable arm over his shoulder and ruffled his hair. “And we love you for it.” With that, he dropped back to walk beside Brian who looked rather flustered as John hooked arms with him. Tim, trying not to feel flummoxed by this show of affection, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned his attention to Jon once more.
“Did you really elbow a bloke in the eye?”
Jon laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Tim smiled in response, a happy flutter stirring in his stomach. “Uh, yes actually. I said something that I thought was funny to a dude who definitely did not find it funny and, lo and behold, he tried to kill me.”
“Jesus,” Tim laughed. “What happened?”
“Well, John came to my rescue. Actually, that’s how we met. This guy was holding me above his head and I brought my elbow down onto his face so he dropped me and there was John, my knight in shining armor. He caught me and dragged me out of there. That was my first night in England.” Jon shook his head in self-deprecation, his smile milder and less sardonic. He had really kind eyes when he wasn’t looking so… smirky. “I guess I just have a knack for getting my ass kicked wherever I go.”
“Well, I seem to have a similar skill.” At the skeptical look Jon sent his way, Tim burst out laughing. “Don’t believe me? I’m a cartoonist. I’ve been obsessed with Star Wars since I was seven. I routinely wank to Sarah Michelle Gellar. I’m pretty much the quintessential nerd.”
Jon let out a loud and throaty laugh, throwing his head back. “I personally just have all the charms of a smart-ass, short Jew. Somehow that doesn’t engender me to the swarthy Scotsmen crowd.”
“Perhaps it’s because you belittle Braveheart.” Jon laughed again, prompting another smile from Tim. They continued the rest of the way to the flat in relative silence, both mainly listening to John’s rambunctious stories aimed at Brian and Brian’s uneasy yet happy responses. Tim was feeling more and more troubled by the exchange; Brian was now leaning into John, his usually awkward and stiff movements relaxing. John was grinning from ear to ear. Jon seemed to notice as well, an amused smile on his face coupled with a raised eyebrow indicating that he too saw the obvious flirting.
“Well, here we are,” Tim announced once they made it to the gate.
“This is actually pretty nice.” Jon kicked a can that was lying on the sidewalk. “I mean, besides the trash and shit. What’s with the shopping cart?”
Tim opened the gate and made his way to the door. “What shopping cart?”
“Well!” John startled them by clapping his hands together and rubbing them vigorously. “I’m knackered! Brian?” Both Jon and Tim turned to look at the pair as Brian gawked, his face turning red. Jon rolled his eyes.
“Er…” Brian mumbled, fumbling with his keys. “Er, yes, actually, I am. Tired, that is. Knackered. Yes.” He pushed his key into the lock as Tim stood there and stared at him. “Oh!” Brian put up his index finger as he remembered something, his keys dropping to the ground. Tim sighed and bent to pick them up, putting them in the lock to finish opening the door. “But I only have my bed! I don’t know where you two will…” He gestured wordlessly to Jon and John.
Tim opened his mouth when John cut him off. “I can just bunk up with you, eh Brian?”
Tim furrowed his brow as Jon rolled his eyes again, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “My, what a shocking proposal,” Tim heard him mutter. John sent him a lecherous smirk and a wink before looking back to Brian with expectation.
“Oh… er…” Brian fluttered his fingers, his brow knit in consternation. “What about…” He waved a hand Jon’s way.
“Oh, he can go on with Tim, yeah? They already have plans! Star Wars and that.” John clapped Jon on the back, earning himself a narrow-eyed look in return.
Tim fiddled with Brian’s keys before handing them his way. “Uh, that’s fine. My flatmate’s away so he can crash at my place…” He glanced Jon’s way to see a small smile being aimed at him. He hoped that the tinge of red rising on his cheeks wouldn’t be visible in the half light.
“See? All settled! All right, Brian?” Brian still looked unsure but, with John grinning at him like a bloody pocket full of fucking sunshine, he smiled in that quiet (if not, as Tim considered it, mildly creepy) way of his and shrugged.
“Suppose that’s, erm, fine.” He glanced Tim’s way again, his expression hanging between a pleased smile and a befuddled frown as the corners of his mouth turned in opposite directions. “You sure that’s fine Tim?”
Tim, to his own surprise, just shrugged. “Uh, yeah, that’s…”
“Splendid!” John grabbed Brian by the shoulders and pushed him towards his apartment door, hardly waiting for him to unlock it before propelling them both through. “Night you two!” he called, his voice cheery as he winked at Jon again and shut the door behind them.
The two men left standing in the hallway exchanged a mutual look of embarrassment before shuffling their feet. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Jon cleared his throat.
“Dude, you sure you’re okay with this?” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, his expression meek and apologetic.
Tim waved a dismissing hand. “Oh, yeah sure. I mean, you’re providing me with pot, yeah? Letting you stay with me’s the least I can do.”
Jon smiled again in that genuine way and Tim found himself glancing to the ground, his face heating up even more. “Look, I’m really sorry about him.” Jon gave a dark glance to the door that John and Brian had disappeared through. “He can’t help it that he’s,” he raised his voice in the direction of Brian’s apartment, “A HORNY ASSHOLE SOMETIMES.”
Tim chuckled a grabbed his beanie from his head before beginning to ascend the stairs. “I’m right up this way.”
Jon nodded and followed, hanging a pace behind Tim as they reached the door. Fumbling with his keys, Tim opened the lock and made his way inside, that uncertain silence descending again.
“So… movie?” Jon asked, hands shoved in the pockets of his rather large jacket and a small smile on his face. He almost looked shy.
“Yeah, sure.” Tim made his way to the television and perused his massive movie collection. “Sorry the place is a right mess. Daisy and I aren’t exactly the cleanly types.”
Jon plopped down on the couch, opting to not remove his coat. His eyes cast over the rest of the apartment. “Daisy?”
“Yeah. My flatmate.” Jon cocked an eyebrow, causing Tim to smile. “Just my flatmate.”
Jon nodded sagely. “Ah.”
Did he look pleased by that information? Tim could swear he did. Shaking it off, he turned his attention back to the movies. “So, do you want to watch the new old version or the old old version?”
Jon quirked an eyebrow again. “The difference being…?”
“Well, the new old version is on DVD and has all this special effects bollocks whereas the old old version is on VHS and is sans all that CGI, George-Lucas-went-mad-with-a-computer shit.”
Jon smiled again as Tim switched on the telly, the blue light casting flickering shadows over the room. “Well, I’m a bare bones kind of guy myself.”
Tim grinned. “Good man.”
As Tim set up the tape, he turned to find Jon holding up a small baggy and smiling with a twinkle in his eye. “So, pot?”
Tim had completely forgotten in his Star Wars haste. “Oh, right, yeah of course.”
“You got papers?”
“In the drawer of the coffee table…” As Jon rifled through the drawer, Tim dithered for a moment as he felt inexplicably incapable of deciding where to sit. Floor? Bean bag?
…Couch?
Sure, the couch made most sense, but something about it felt untoward. Or something. Still, he was probably just being paranoid or was feeling weirded out by the whole Brian randomly being gay thing, so he decided to man up and just sit on the damn couch.
So what if he just happened to sit as far as possible at the opposite end from Jon?
Jon rolled the spliff, tonguing a wet strip along the edge of the paper before looking down on it in satisfaction. Tim looked away, feeling a bit flustered at the sight of the pink tip poking between Jon’s lips. He also didn’t know whether he found the fact that Jon didn’t ask if Tim was bothered by his saliva annoying or not.
“Wanna start it?” Jon asked, breaking Tim out of his reverie.
“What? The movie or…?”
Jon smiled, the blue light of the television reflecting in his eyes. “The movie.”
“Oh. Right.”
He hit play, Jon lit the joint, and soon Tim was covered in the warm blanket of Star Wars and marijuana smoke. The sat in relative silence and it was only when Darth Vader was making his entrance though Jon cleared his throat. Tim, though enraptured by the Sith Lord, looked his way. Jon was staring at the joint in his fingers and glanced up at Tim before handing it his way.
Tim was looking back at the movie and breathing in another breath of smoke when Jon cleared his throat again and asked, “So... you didn’t know Brian was gay, huh?”
Tim choked, coughing and wheezing as tears filled his eyes. “Hah,” he laughed weakly once he regained his composure, handing the joint back to Jon. “Uh… no. Not exactly.” Jon gave him a questioning look. “Well, I mean, I thought he was gay right off but then he had this, well… this thing with Daisy’s friend, Twist, though she is a right nutter so who knows, maybe she turned him, but seeing as John and Brian have known each other since uni I guess he’s been gay since then? Maybe? I don’t know.” Tim lapsed into silence, his rambling losing steam. “Uh… so, basically, no. I didn’t.” Jon handed him back the joint from which he took a grateful hit. “I did not.”
Tim smiled at him, looking almost apologetic. “Sorry, dude. I had assumed you’d known.”
“Well, Brian and I… we’re not especially close. I actually didn’t think Brian was all that close to anyone, really, with him being him. So… yeah.” He lapsed into silence again, handing the joint back to Jon. “Did you know John was…?”
Jon’s face broke into a wide smile and Tim noticed in the corner of his eye that R2 had just been picked up by the Jawas. “Hah, yeah. He tried to get me to fuck him within the first week of us moving in together.”
Tim’s eyebrows shot up. “I… wow. How did that go?”
“I basically shut him down. But nicely. I mean… I still consider him a good friend. He’s just not my type.” Jon’s smile became a bit more mischievous. “You know?”
Tim took back the joint and tried to give a confident smile. “Hah. Right.” The movie caught his attention again. “Ooh, here comes a great part.”
They sat in silence through the rest of the movie, making their way through two more joints and settling on their third at the start of The Empire Strikes Back. Tim could barely keep his eyes open by the time they made it to Cloud City.
“Oh, Lando,” Tim sighed, shaking his fist at the telly. “You betraying bastard.”
“What?” Jon asked, blinking his bleary eyes up from where he was attempting to roll another joint. “What? I thought he was… isn’t he helping them?”
“Shh.” Tim waved a hand at him. “Just watch.”
When the inevitable betrayal came, Jon yelled “ASSHOLE!” and threw a magazine at the television. Tim snorted and glanced at the forgotten paper and marijuana on the table.
Jon settled back into the couch, looking small in his oversized coat (which he still inexplicably had on) and the shadows of the room. His hair was also a bit more mussed than before; the curls had freed themselves a bit, making them look… fluffy. Tim felt a strange urge to pull one to see if it would bounce back into place. And to see if it felt as soft as it looked.
“Lando is an asshole,” Jon declared again with the kind of certainty that only comes with marijuana, sinking even lower into the couch. “But… but he’s kind of an intriguing asshole. Sexy, you know?”
Tim laughed before he realized what Jon had said. Wait… what? “Sexy?” he asked, unable to come up with anything more intelligent. He laughed again but it died too quickly, sounding awkward where it hung.
Jon ignored it. “Yeah.” He waved a limp hand in the direction of the television. “You know. He’s all… conflicted and shit. It’s kind of hot.”
“Hot?” Tim waggled his head. “Wait… didn’t you… are you gay?”
Jon snorted, his chin now on his chest and his eyes still glowing in the light of the telly. “Eh. I don’t like labels.”
The air in the room was starting to feel progressively thicker and the couch seemed to have shrunk in the past five minutes. Tim struggled with finding the right words. “Well, yeah, neither do I, but labels… they’re helpful, right? In making confusing situations… less confusing?”
“Well,” Jon drawled, still slouched over. “I guess the best label for me would then be…” His eyes dragged across the room, finally settling their heavy gaze on Tim. “Sexually ambiguous?”
Tim, feeling tight and constrained and much, much too high, coughed then laughed at a strange pitch that sounded unlike his actual laugh. So he coughed again and attempted to laugh once more only it still sounded hollow and frail.
“Ah,” he said finally, his voice odd to his own ears. “Ah, that’s… interesting.”
There was a loaded silence then, Jon’s eyes not leaving Tim’s and Tim feeling increasingly flustered.
Jon didn’t break his gaze as he tilted his head, his lids heavy and his eyebrow raised. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice low.
Tim swallowed, hard, not sure of how to respond. “I… you said John isn’t your type.”
A small smile flitted across Jon’s face as he sat up a little straighter. “Yeah, because he’s John, not because he has a dick.” The words were light with a note of kindness and Tim felt the strange urge to laugh. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Tim said a little too fast. “No. I just… I’ve never really encountered something, uh, like this before.” He eyed Jon, feeling sheepish and entirely out of his depth. He wasn’t even sure what this was. “You know?”
Tim broke the eye contact when Jon began to slide across the couch, inching his way towards Tim until they were thigh-to-thigh, his body warmth seeping through the fabric of Tim’s jeans where their legs touched. Tim fought the urge to tug at his collar as his airways became constricted but stopped himself, thinking it was a bit too cliché even for him. Jon didn’t move beyond that point, just settling so he was leaned against Tim’s side. Sitting up a little straighter, Tim gripped his hands together and settled them in his lap. Jon just slouched, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
“It’s not that difficult, you know.” Tim’s eyes snapped back to meet Jon’s. They were now much closer and Tim dropped the gaze almost immediately, opting instead to look at the edge of his t-shirt as he worried it with his thumb. Jon cleared his throat and Tim could see him tilt his head out of the corner of his eye. “You know?”
Tim grappled with what to say but decided instead to silently give a half-shrug and mumble something incoherent. He could see Jon smirk out of the corner of his eye in a way that was far too fetching and, really, Jon was kind of a bastard for looking at him like that. With his eyes all… knowing and… lust-filled and… gay. Gay. This was all too gay.
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “I,” he stated, “feel a bit, er, out of my depth.” He fell silent as his thought from before was now out there, all awkward and… awkward.
Jon shrugged, his arm shifting next to him. “Again, does it make you…?”
“Uncomfortable?” Tim finished for him, fighting the hysterical laughter that was suddenly bubbling up inside of him. “I’m British. I’m always uncomfortable.”
Jon laughed, his voice throaty, and Tim gulped. “Okay, well, just tell me when it becomes too much, okay?”
Tim found himself nodding, though he was pretty sure they were well beyond the point of this being too much. He still couldn’t look at Jon but saw him taking off his coat, the material shushing against the couch as he slipped his arms out. He was wearing a grey t-shirt underneath, all understated and manly and, good God, how the hell could this bloke be serious about this? Jon was also still smirking, causing the heat in Tim’s collar to rise to an almost intolerable level.
“Tim?” He jerked his head to find Jon looking at him, the smirk turning into a kinder smile. Relaxing a half-fraction, he met Jon’s eyes for a moment before looking away again.
“Yeah?”
“Just…” Jon looked off into the distance, like he was thinking, before settling his gaze on Tim again. “Do what comes naturally.”
Tim choked out a laugh. “Naturally? I hardly think any of this is-“
His words became strangled as Jon laid a deliberate hand on his inner thigh. Tim squirmed, shutting his eyes as he felt his racing heartbeat settle decidedly in his groin. Taking a deep breath, he reopened his eyes.
It was time to take the little red pill.
Alright, he thought to himself, down the rabbit hole…
Fidgeting for a moment, he fought with what to do with his hands before shifting himself to face Jon more directly and placing a palm on the side of his neck. Eyes flicking down to Jon’s mouth, he saw the other man regarding him with no small amount of pleased surprise. Going with it, Tim rubbed his thumb along his jawline, feeling Jon swallow hard under the heel of his hand. Taking a deep breath, Tim shifted again, sliding his other arm around Jon’s shoulders as he pulled him forward. He couldn’t help but notice that Jon’s lips twitched once more into a small smirk before he pressed his own against them.
They stayed like that for a moment, awkwardly pressed against one another until Jon made an impatient noise and slid the hand on Tim’s thigh up a bit higher, causing a deep groan to build in the back of Tim’s throat. Evidently Jon took this as some sort of encouragement because with that he began to move, his lips insistent on Tim’s as his other hand slid up the back of his shirt to massage the skin there. Another unbidden groan escaped him as he pushed back, opening his mouth as Jon slipped his tongue inside. The hand on his thigh moved up once more, cupping Tim through his trousers as his body gave an involuntary shudder. He felt Jon grin in the kiss as they shuffled together, trying to gain purchase on the couch while still remaining connected; Tim’s hands now gripping Jon’s hair as Jon popped the fly of his trousers open. He felt that momentary blind of panic, the one that screamed “YOU’RE A BLOODY MAN, DAMMIT” before the thought shattered as Jon slipped his fingers into his boxers.
This time Tim groaned outright, Jon swallowing it as he pulled Tim out, fisting his length. He stuttered for a moment before cursing against Tim’s lips, pulling his hand away.
“Left-handed,” he explained when Tim’s blinked at him with distressed bleary eyes. With that, he pulled Tim towards him again and ran his fingers up Tim’s length, causing a breathy whimper to escape him. Jon just grinned again, making Tim realize they weren’t really kissing anymore, just panting against each other as Jon watched his own handiwork, his mouth open slightly and his gaze hooded. Tim, swallowing hard, found the image to be too much, dropping his head back as Jon’s touch became more rigorous.
Suffice to say, Jon was a fucking pro at this. He must, Tim concluded, masturbate a lot if he was that good at it. This thought turned into another moan that he muffled into Jon’s shirt, feeling a wet spot form where his breath panted out. Jon pressed the side of his face to Tim’s head, his gasps sounding harsh in Tim’s ear as he continued.
Fuck, Tim thought. Fucking fuck. It was coming, he could feel it and, Jesus Buffy-loving Christ, was he fifteen? Could he not get a handjob without popping his wad within five minutes? But the pot made him feel like, maybe, it had been much longer and, God, Jon had just been looking at him all night and his thighs began to seize as he pumped himself into Jon’s hand.
“Fuck,” he gasped into Jon’s shirt. “Shit, shit…” He could feel the burning in the pit of his stomach and his balls begin to tense as a rushing started to fill his ears.
“Tim,” Jon gasped, his voice low and gravely and so unlike any girl’s that it made Tim shudder. “Tim, it’s okay,” he whispered, breath hot in Tim’s ear, “just come, Tim. I want to watch you.”
“Fffffuck…” Tim started before it turned into a half-sob, half-groan, white-hot heat pouring through his veins as suddenly the world rushed away and his body convulsed into itself. Jon continued stroking him until he was done, waves of pleasure rolling over him and leaving him in a stupor.
He was still in this stupor when he realized the hand on him was gone and that Jon was now making small grunting noises as he shuddered against Tim. Shaking his head like a dog shaking off water, he blinked to see Jon stroking his own cock, his head thrown back.
“Jon, I-“ he reached out but Jon batted him away, giving him a look before suddenly coming himself, his eyes screwed up and his breath coming out in controlled gasps. Once he was done he stared at his hands before giving Tim a small, self-reproaching look and a smile.
“Jon,” Tim said, trying to not feel bothered, “I would’ve…” But Jon waved him off again.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, still inspecting the mess they had made. When Tim didn’t stop staring at him he finally glanced up to give him a real smile. “Seriously, dude.” Tim thought he rather would worry about it, but then Jon was whipping off his shirt and cleaning them both up with it, his nose wrinkled and his gaze intent. Tim just watched him.
“I…” he started to say, but Jon held up a silencing hand.
“Dude, really, shut up,” he said, his tone not unkind. When Tim dropped his gaze, he heard Jon give a small sigh. With that, he leaned forward and gave Tim a small peck on the lips before pulling away. Smiling more fully, he regarded Tim. “Let’s just go to sleep.”
“Fine,” Tim half-grumbled, settling back when Jon grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him down so they were effectively spooning with Jon’s bare chest against his back. Secretly, Tim was a huge fan of cuddling but he thought being tossed off by another man was enough gayness for one day so he better well not tell Jon how pleased he was by this development. “I was just going to say thank you.”
He felt Jon smile into his neck. “You’re welcome,” he whispered hotly into his ear.
Shivering, Tim let the drowsiness wash over him, deciding to leave the reemerging uncertainty burgeoning in his stomach untouched til morning.
To be continued...
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