Earth and Sky and Friends (1/1)
Title: Earth and Sky and Friends
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: David/OMC
Word Count: 1,672
Rating: R/saying awful things about gay people.
Notes: For clwilson2006, who bought me in an auction to benefit flood victims in Queensland and requested David Parrish and high school/college angst. I hope this fits the bill. :)
“Hey, Dave,” Brian says, and there’s confusion and a little concern in his expression. “You okay, man?”
“Certainly,” David replies, trying to smile and wondering if it makes him look as sick as he feels. “Why - why would I not be?”
“Because you look like you’re about to toss it?” his roommate guesses, frowning. “Seriously, man, are you gonna hurl?”
“I’m fine,” David tries to reassure him, but then he remembers, and the world tilts a little, and he curls over the wastebasket and vomits.
Stay away from me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come here any more.
Brian’s hand is suddenly on his shoulder, patting awkwardly, and there’s a bottle of water being shoved into one of his trembling hands. “Hey,” Brian says. “C’mon, man, Get into bed.”
“I have to-” David motions to the wastebasket, to the mess he’s made, and Brian grimaces and shoves him towards his bed.
“You’ll owe me one,” Brian tells him as he picks up the wastebasket and heads for the door. “Just - go to sleep, Dave.”
David does.
-0-
“I don’t get it,” Matt had said slowly when David had approached him in Greenhouse Seven, the one that the freshmen were allowed to use as long as they had special permission. Dr. Bergness loves David, thinks he’s some kind of genius, so she’d written him a free pass to do whatever he wanted to do in there. “Are you - what are you asking me?”
“Go to dinner with me,” David had repeated, heart hammering in his throat, hands clammy, trying not to let his eyes go too wide, trying not to panic. He prided himself on being able to rein in his emotions, but this - this was uncharted territory. He didn’t have anything to fall back on here.
“We go to dinner all the time,” Matt had said, taking a small step back - not enough to get him out of arm’s reach, not for David’s long arms, but enough to send a message. “We went last night, you and me and Brian and Walt. Pizza.”
“Matt,” David had replied. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. Just you and me, nobody else. Somewhere a little nicer than pizza.”
“You’re a fucking homo,” Matt had said flatly, and David had jerked back. He’d been sure, so sure about Matt. He’d seemed-
“You’re disgusting,” Matt had gone on. “That’s just - that’s sick, Parrish. I can’t believe - I thought you were normal.”
“Matt,” David had tried desperately, reaching out with one hand towards the other man.
“Stay away from me,” Matt had continued, backing away more quickly. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t come here any more.”
And Matt had turned and fled from the greenhouse, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get the fuck away from David.
-0-
David wakes slowly later that evening, his head pounding. He can hear the blood coursing through his skull, can still taste the bile in his mouth, and he has to lie still for a moment to let his stomach settle before he can move properly. The door to the bedroom is mostly shut; there’s just a sliver of light coming into the room. David squints at the crack in the darkness until he can make out Brian on the couch, sprawled out and staring at the television, which is muted. The colors flash across his friend’s face, and David realizes after a minute that Brian’s not even watching whatever’s on the screen. His face is closed off, and he’s staring somewhere to the left of where the television is actually located.
David sinks back into his pillow and closes his eyes. He’d been so sure that Matt had been - like him, he supposes, and it’s not easy to really even think the word, but David forces himself to do it now. He’s gay. He likes men, and no matter how often he tries to tell himself that it’s okay that he does, incidents like today keep reminding him that he might be the only one who thinks that way.
Matt is the first person he’s ever told. He’s pretty sure his mother has figured it out, and Uncle Samuel probably has, too. He knows that his sister Sarah knows - she’d point-blank asked him last summer, and he’s made it a point to never lie to her - and she’s probably told their brother Jason, but Matt’s the first person that David’s ever told.
He’s not going to tell anyone else, not for a while. He doesn’t need - isn’t sure -
He just doesn’t want to think about it, not now, not yet.
David looks out the door again, but Brian hasn’t moved. David swings his legs over the side of his bed and sighs as his bare feet hit the cold floor. The bed creaks as he stands up, and Brian’s eyes snap to the door as David makes his way out of the bedroom.
“Better?” Brian asks, and David nods.
“Gonna brush my teeth,” David tells him, heading for the bathroom. He’s been happy about deciding to live in an apartment before, sure, but he’s never been quite this grateful. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to trudge down a hallway fielding questions when he’s feeling this raw.
He brushes his teeth for a long time, just moving the brush up and down for what feels like hours, trying to take out the taste and the feeling of twisting, of burning, of hurt and betrayal and sick shame.
There’s a hesitant knock at the door, and David half-turns, holding the toothbrush still in his mouth. Brian has his head poked in. “You gonna be done soon? You’ve been in here for fifteen minutes.”
David nods, turns back to the sink, and spits out his toothpaste. He rinses his mouth and the brush and turns the water off, and when he turns back around to leave, Brian’s still there. He opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something else, but he shuts it a second later and walks back to the couch.
David follows him out and sits on the other end of the couch. He’s still wound a little tight, tense, and there’s no way Brian’s not picking up on it. David keeps sliding his eyes sideways to look at his friend, and after a few minutes, he catches Brian doing the same. They both smile a little awkwardly, and Brian does a little cough-throat-clearing thing and sighs.
“You wanna talk about it?”
David tries to shrug casually but can’t quite manage it with the tension in his shoulders. “I got sick.”
“Dave.” Brian turns on his end of the couch, and David turns to face his friend. “Matt stopped over while you were sleeping.”
The sick twisting fires up in David’s gut again, and he presses himself back into the end of the couch and closes his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Brian says, and his voice is a little hard, a little brittle. David opens his eyes back up, and Brian’s staring at some point over his shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not - but it doesn’t bother me, David. Not at all. And when Matt said he was here to warn me about you, I-”He laughs, and it resounds in the room, harsh and sour. “I punched him.”
“You what?” David asks eloquently.
“Punched him,” Brian repeats. “In the face.”
“You punched Matt?” David’s horrified, both at the prospect and at the way his voice goes up in pitch. “Because he didn’t want to-”
“Because he’s a dick,” Brian says over him, and David shuts up. “Because friends are friends, Dave, and if he didn’t want to go out with you, he could have just said no. There was no reason for him to - that’s why you got sick before.”
David opens his mouth - to protest, to answer, he’s not sure, but Brian just looks at him until he shuts his mouth. “He didn’t tell me what he said to you,” Brian continues, “but fuck, Dave. I’ve seen you take on Dr. Reingold at his worst, and I’ve seen you talking to Sissy Tyvek after she loses a match, and those are some rough situations. You keep your cool, Dave. I’ve never seen you lose it before.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything to him,” David says, and hearing it out loud is like the best and worst part of his day all at once. He’s not sure what to think about it, honestly.
Brian snorts. “So you’re never gonna date?” he challenges, and David blinks. “You’re just going to - to, what, live your whole life lonely and alone? You’re never gonna have sex again?”
David’s face is cherry red, and he’s not sure if he wants to protest that he’s never had sex - not this kind of sex, not the kind he wants, not the kind that counts - or if he just doesn’t want to hear Brian talking about it. “I’m not-”
“Damn right, you’re not,” Brian agrees firmly. “Look, Dave, it’s - my brother, okay? You remember Kent?” David nods. Kent’s a senior somewhere in Virginia, a few years older and hundreds of miles away. “He came out his last year of high school,” Brian continues, and his voice sounds far away, younger, sad. “Dad kicked him out. I never understood why.” He pauses. “It’s been - tough. On all of us.”
Brian’s eyes focus back on David’s face. “But Kent’s doing okay now,” he says. “He’s seeing some guy he’s crazy about, and Dad’s cooling his jets, and it’s awful for a while but it gets better. Okay?”
David tries to sort that out for a minute, but gives up and shakes his head. It’s not the words themselves that matter, not right now. It’s that he’s had a shitty day and he’s hurting and he needs a friend, and Brian’s there and he’s not leaving just because David’s gay. That’s what matters, so David takes a deep breath and thinks about the earth and the sky and his friends, and he says, “Okay.”
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA
Characters: David/OMC
Word Count: 1,672
Rating: R/saying awful things about gay people.
Notes: For clwilson2006, who bought me in an auction to benefit flood victims in Queensland and requested David Parrish and high school/college angst. I hope this fits the bill. :)
“Hey, Dave,” Brian says, and there’s confusion and a little concern in his expression. “You okay, man?”
“Certainly,” David replies, trying to smile and wondering if it makes him look as sick as he feels. “Why - why would I not be?”
“Because you look like you’re about to toss it?” his roommate guesses, frowning. “Seriously, man, are you gonna hurl?”
“I’m fine,” David tries to reassure him, but then he remembers, and the world tilts a little, and he curls over the wastebasket and vomits.
Stay away from me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come here any more.
Brian’s hand is suddenly on his shoulder, patting awkwardly, and there’s a bottle of water being shoved into one of his trembling hands. “Hey,” Brian says. “C’mon, man, Get into bed.”
“I have to-” David motions to the wastebasket, to the mess he’s made, and Brian grimaces and shoves him towards his bed.
“You’ll owe me one,” Brian tells him as he picks up the wastebasket and heads for the door. “Just - go to sleep, Dave.”
David does.
-0-
“I don’t get it,” Matt had said slowly when David had approached him in Greenhouse Seven, the one that the freshmen were allowed to use as long as they had special permission. Dr. Bergness loves David, thinks he’s some kind of genius, so she’d written him a free pass to do whatever he wanted to do in there. “Are you - what are you asking me?”
“Go to dinner with me,” David had repeated, heart hammering in his throat, hands clammy, trying not to let his eyes go too wide, trying not to panic. He prided himself on being able to rein in his emotions, but this - this was uncharted territory. He didn’t have anything to fall back on here.
“We go to dinner all the time,” Matt had said, taking a small step back - not enough to get him out of arm’s reach, not for David’s long arms, but enough to send a message. “We went last night, you and me and Brian and Walt. Pizza.”
“Matt,” David had replied. “I’d like to take you out to dinner. Just you and me, nobody else. Somewhere a little nicer than pizza.”
“You’re a fucking homo,” Matt had said flatly, and David had jerked back. He’d been sure, so sure about Matt. He’d seemed-
“You’re disgusting,” Matt had gone on. “That’s just - that’s sick, Parrish. I can’t believe - I thought you were normal.”
“Matt,” David had tried desperately, reaching out with one hand towards the other man.
“Stay away from me,” Matt had continued, backing away more quickly. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t come here any more.”
And Matt had turned and fled from the greenhouse, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get the fuck away from David.
-0-
David wakes slowly later that evening, his head pounding. He can hear the blood coursing through his skull, can still taste the bile in his mouth, and he has to lie still for a moment to let his stomach settle before he can move properly. The door to the bedroom is mostly shut; there’s just a sliver of light coming into the room. David squints at the crack in the darkness until he can make out Brian on the couch, sprawled out and staring at the television, which is muted. The colors flash across his friend’s face, and David realizes after a minute that Brian’s not even watching whatever’s on the screen. His face is closed off, and he’s staring somewhere to the left of where the television is actually located.
David sinks back into his pillow and closes his eyes. He’d been so sure that Matt had been - like him, he supposes, and it’s not easy to really even think the word, but David forces himself to do it now. He’s gay. He likes men, and no matter how often he tries to tell himself that it’s okay that he does, incidents like today keep reminding him that he might be the only one who thinks that way.
Matt is the first person he’s ever told. He’s pretty sure his mother has figured it out, and Uncle Samuel probably has, too. He knows that his sister Sarah knows - she’d point-blank asked him last summer, and he’s made it a point to never lie to her - and she’s probably told their brother Jason, but Matt’s the first person that David’s ever told.
He’s not going to tell anyone else, not for a while. He doesn’t need - isn’t sure -
He just doesn’t want to think about it, not now, not yet.
David looks out the door again, but Brian hasn’t moved. David swings his legs over the side of his bed and sighs as his bare feet hit the cold floor. The bed creaks as he stands up, and Brian’s eyes snap to the door as David makes his way out of the bedroom.
“Better?” Brian asks, and David nods.
“Gonna brush my teeth,” David tells him, heading for the bathroom. He’s been happy about deciding to live in an apartment before, sure, but he’s never been quite this grateful. He’s just glad he doesn’t have to trudge down a hallway fielding questions when he’s feeling this raw.
He brushes his teeth for a long time, just moving the brush up and down for what feels like hours, trying to take out the taste and the feeling of twisting, of burning, of hurt and betrayal and sick shame.
There’s a hesitant knock at the door, and David half-turns, holding the toothbrush still in his mouth. Brian has his head poked in. “You gonna be done soon? You’ve been in here for fifteen minutes.”
David nods, turns back to the sink, and spits out his toothpaste. He rinses his mouth and the brush and turns the water off, and when he turns back around to leave, Brian’s still there. He opens his mouth, like he’s going to say something else, but he shuts it a second later and walks back to the couch.
David follows him out and sits on the other end of the couch. He’s still wound a little tight, tense, and there’s no way Brian’s not picking up on it. David keeps sliding his eyes sideways to look at his friend, and after a few minutes, he catches Brian doing the same. They both smile a little awkwardly, and Brian does a little cough-throat-clearing thing and sighs.
“You wanna talk about it?”
David tries to shrug casually but can’t quite manage it with the tension in his shoulders. “I got sick.”
“Dave.” Brian turns on his end of the couch, and David turns to face his friend. “Matt stopped over while you were sleeping.”
The sick twisting fires up in David’s gut again, and he presses himself back into the end of the couch and closes his eyes. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Brian says, and his voice is a little hard, a little brittle. David opens his eyes back up, and Brian’s staring at some point over his shoulder, not meeting his eyes. “I’m not - but it doesn’t bother me, David. Not at all. And when Matt said he was here to warn me about you, I-”He laughs, and it resounds in the room, harsh and sour. “I punched him.”
“You what?” David asks eloquently.
“Punched him,” Brian repeats. “In the face.”
“You punched Matt?” David’s horrified, both at the prospect and at the way his voice goes up in pitch. “Because he didn’t want to-”
“Because he’s a dick,” Brian says over him, and David shuts up. “Because friends are friends, Dave, and if he didn’t want to go out with you, he could have just said no. There was no reason for him to - that’s why you got sick before.”
David opens his mouth - to protest, to answer, he’s not sure, but Brian just looks at him until he shuts his mouth. “He didn’t tell me what he said to you,” Brian continues, “but fuck, Dave. I’ve seen you take on Dr. Reingold at his worst, and I’ve seen you talking to Sissy Tyvek after she loses a match, and those are some rough situations. You keep your cool, Dave. I’ve never seen you lose it before.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything to him,” David says, and hearing it out loud is like the best and worst part of his day all at once. He’s not sure what to think about it, honestly.
Brian snorts. “So you’re never gonna date?” he challenges, and David blinks. “You’re just going to - to, what, live your whole life lonely and alone? You’re never gonna have sex again?”
David’s face is cherry red, and he’s not sure if he wants to protest that he’s never had sex - not this kind of sex, not the kind he wants, not the kind that counts - or if he just doesn’t want to hear Brian talking about it. “I’m not-”
“Damn right, you’re not,” Brian agrees firmly. “Look, Dave, it’s - my brother, okay? You remember Kent?” David nods. Kent’s a senior somewhere in Virginia, a few years older and hundreds of miles away. “He came out his last year of high school,” Brian continues, and his voice sounds far away, younger, sad. “Dad kicked him out. I never understood why.” He pauses. “It’s been - tough. On all of us.”
Brian’s eyes focus back on David’s face. “But Kent’s doing okay now,” he says. “He’s seeing some guy he’s crazy about, and Dad’s cooling his jets, and it’s awful for a while but it gets better. Okay?”
David tries to sort that out for a minute, but gives up and shakes his head. It’s not the words themselves that matter, not right now. It’s that he’s had a shitty day and he’s hurting and he needs a friend, and Brian’s there and he’s not leaving just because David’s gay. That’s what matters, so David takes a deep breath and thinks about the earth and the sky and his friends, and he says, “Okay.”