Unravel the winter upon my skin
Author: inpurity
Title:Unravel the winter upon my skin
Genre: Angst Galore
Rating: R for implied sex and language
Fandom: Jesse Lacey/Nate Ruess
Dedication: to the absolutely lovely X_kchan_X, and to the wonderful electricchicken, because I love her very much.
Summary:" It’s not that he hates winter; it’s that winter talks to him of homesickness.
Hiraeth, the Welsh call it. Something that interweave a sense of longing and desperate displacement outside the well known marks of his home, his family."
Word Count: 989
Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction, not written for profit. I claim no connection with any member of Brand New/The Format their families or friends. The events hereby narrated are absolutely false and are not meant to reflect the person's private life. No harm, misrepresentation, libel, malice or copyright infringement is intended. At no time is this meant to be construed as reality.
It’s not that he hates winter; it’s that winter talks to him of homesickness.
Hiraeth, the Welsh call it. Something that interweaves a sense of longing and desperate displacement outside the well known marks of his home, his family.
Nate looks at the snow sticking to the pavement and the feeling stretches white and static like silence. There is no sound left in the corridors of his dorm. The last of his class mates has left several hours before and he would be happy if it wasn’t for the fact that he will not go home this year.
Christmas was cancelled the day his mom and dad decided that divorce was a priority and had forgotten to pay for a plane ticket for their son to go home for the holidays.
“You can start making a dent on the curriculum for the next semester, son.” Those had been his father’s words, while his mom had deposited two hundred dollars in his account.
“To buy dinner and threat yourself, darling.”
Nate is not sure why he misses home, but he still does. Maybe he chases the memories of all that was, but he still feels as if all the winter in Massachusetts has been conspiring to suck any last drop of warmth out of his body.
Sunshine.
He wants it in his fingertips, like when he was a child and all he could feel was summer stretching out of his hands like threads of warm toffee.
There is a knock at his door and he realises that night has fallen over the campus, stretching shadows of indigo over the cold poplars coasting the walk path.
“It’s open.”
Nate’s RA is only two years older than him, but he’s not only the biggest pain in the ass Nate has ever come across, but also his, very unofficial, boyfriend.
They are breaking twenty-seven different rules just being in the same building together, and Jesse’s compulsive respect for the law has been shaken with an amount of guilt that Nate has to mollify on a regular basis.
“Hey you. How are you doing?”
“It’s a craptacular day for missing home, let me tell you.”
“I see, deep into self-pity mode. It’s Christmas after all, I can sympathize.”
Nate’s shrugs and pain pulses at the centre of his scapulae, reminding him that eight days curved over books and hunched in front of his computer with barely any sleep was not one of his smartest ideas.
“You didn’t have to stay. I have money to stay at any Best Western, my mother’s generosity you see?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you.”
“Not in the mood, Lacey.”
Jesse is always very, very careful to show any affection towards Nate when there is a chance that they can get caught, but right now they are one of the few people left in the entire campus, and the only ones in their dorms, so he allows himself the luxury of touch.
And it is a luxury, Nate knows it very well, but it’s surprising how something he craves so much, right now is not welcomed, it feels forced, insincere.
“Really, Jess. Drop it.”
Jesse turns him around and there is a vulnerability in his eyes that surprises Nate, a certain raw openness that makes him look smaller, even while towering over Nate.
“I graduate in four months.”
Nate chews the inside of his cheek, burrowing into the only half healed wound with intent, chasing the taste of copper and trying to silence the bite of his fear.
“I know. It’s not a national secret.”
“I applied for Grad School.”
“Is there even a point to this, Jesse? I know this already, Princeton, right? So you can study with that fucking asshole that is supposed to be the best doctor ever.”
“I am staying here. My application was accepted, I’m going to work with Dr. Yardley. He told me last night.”
Whatever Jesse was expecting is not Nate pushing him away, is not Nate calling him an asshole and a moron. Is not Nate grabbing his jacket and leaving the room. So when it does happen Jesse is unprepared, and by the time he has found a pair of shoes and a jacket, Nate has already left the main path out of the dorm.
Midnight rings with more snow and it is Christmas’ eve morning when Nate reappears, cheeks burned by the cold and lips scorched with whiskey.
He finds Jesse asleep on his bed, hair rumpled and his face smushed against the pillow, snoring softly, long lashes casting a spidery shadow over the pale of his cheekbones.
He wakes almost immediately, eyes searching the room with the haziness of a fitful sleep and there are words on his lips that will break them if uttered, but, for once, he speaks with a silence that rips Nate’s defenses and the only words are the one coming from Nate’s mouth.
“Feel so fucking alone. So, so fucking alone.”
It is clichés and Nate knows it, but he doesn’t care, right now he doesn’t give a shit about any of his academic achievements or the knowledge that he is a case study for fucking post adolescent angst. All he cares about is that Jesse is staying, not just for now, not just for another semester. Jesse is staying.
Jesse crosses the small room in two quick strides and there is a surrender of understanding in his arms, in the press of his lips on Nate’s throat, in the way he whispers “Fuck me.” Deliberate and gentle, his hand already tugging at the fastening of Nate’s pants.
It’s brutally honest in the early light of winter, and their bodies, young and pale under the cheap sheets, moves with the same cadence of the snow, slow, muted in silence by too many emotions. And, even if there is no easy salvation in love, love is all they have.
They will make it work.
Title:Unravel the winter upon my skin
Genre: Angst Galore
Rating: R for implied sex and language
Fandom: Jesse Lacey/Nate Ruess
Dedication: to the absolutely lovely X_kchan_X, and to the wonderful electricchicken, because I love her very much.
Summary:" It’s not that he hates winter; it’s that winter talks to him of homesickness.
Hiraeth, the Welsh call it. Something that interweave a sense of longing and desperate displacement outside the well known marks of his home, his family."
Word Count: 989
Disclaimer:This is a work of fiction, not written for profit. I claim no connection with any member of Brand New/The Format their families or friends. The events hereby narrated are absolutely false and are not meant to reflect the person's private life. No harm, misrepresentation, libel, malice or copyright infringement is intended. At no time is this meant to be construed as reality.
It’s not that he hates winter; it’s that winter talks to him of homesickness.
Hiraeth, the Welsh call it. Something that interweaves a sense of longing and desperate displacement outside the well known marks of his home, his family.
Nate looks at the snow sticking to the pavement and the feeling stretches white and static like silence. There is no sound left in the corridors of his dorm. The last of his class mates has left several hours before and he would be happy if it wasn’t for the fact that he will not go home this year.
Christmas was cancelled the day his mom and dad decided that divorce was a priority and had forgotten to pay for a plane ticket for their son to go home for the holidays.
“You can start making a dent on the curriculum for the next semester, son.” Those had been his father’s words, while his mom had deposited two hundred dollars in his account.
“To buy dinner and threat yourself, darling.”
Nate is not sure why he misses home, but he still does. Maybe he chases the memories of all that was, but he still feels as if all the winter in Massachusetts has been conspiring to suck any last drop of warmth out of his body.
Sunshine.
He wants it in his fingertips, like when he was a child and all he could feel was summer stretching out of his hands like threads of warm toffee.
There is a knock at his door and he realises that night has fallen over the campus, stretching shadows of indigo over the cold poplars coasting the walk path.
“It’s open.”
Nate’s RA is only two years older than him, but he’s not only the biggest pain in the ass Nate has ever come across, but also his, very unofficial, boyfriend.
They are breaking twenty-seven different rules just being in the same building together, and Jesse’s compulsive respect for the law has been shaken with an amount of guilt that Nate has to mollify on a regular basis.
“Hey you. How are you doing?”
“It’s a craptacular day for missing home, let me tell you.”
“I see, deep into self-pity mode. It’s Christmas after all, I can sympathize.”
Nate’s shrugs and pain pulses at the centre of his scapulae, reminding him that eight days curved over books and hunched in front of his computer with barely any sleep was not one of his smartest ideas.
“You didn’t have to stay. I have money to stay at any Best Western, my mother’s generosity you see?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you.”
“Not in the mood, Lacey.”
Jesse is always very, very careful to show any affection towards Nate when there is a chance that they can get caught, but right now they are one of the few people left in the entire campus, and the only ones in their dorms, so he allows himself the luxury of touch.
And it is a luxury, Nate knows it very well, but it’s surprising how something he craves so much, right now is not welcomed, it feels forced, insincere.
“Really, Jess. Drop it.”
Jesse turns him around and there is a vulnerability in his eyes that surprises Nate, a certain raw openness that makes him look smaller, even while towering over Nate.
“I graduate in four months.”
Nate chews the inside of his cheek, burrowing into the only half healed wound with intent, chasing the taste of copper and trying to silence the bite of his fear.
“I know. It’s not a national secret.”
“I applied for Grad School.”
“Is there even a point to this, Jesse? I know this already, Princeton, right? So you can study with that fucking asshole that is supposed to be the best doctor ever.”
“I am staying here. My application was accepted, I’m going to work with Dr. Yardley. He told me last night.”
Whatever Jesse was expecting is not Nate pushing him away, is not Nate calling him an asshole and a moron. Is not Nate grabbing his jacket and leaving the room. So when it does happen Jesse is unprepared, and by the time he has found a pair of shoes and a jacket, Nate has already left the main path out of the dorm.
Midnight rings with more snow and it is Christmas’ eve morning when Nate reappears, cheeks burned by the cold and lips scorched with whiskey.
He finds Jesse asleep on his bed, hair rumpled and his face smushed against the pillow, snoring softly, long lashes casting a spidery shadow over the pale of his cheekbones.
He wakes almost immediately, eyes searching the room with the haziness of a fitful sleep and there are words on his lips that will break them if uttered, but, for once, he speaks with a silence that rips Nate’s defenses and the only words are the one coming from Nate’s mouth.
“Feel so fucking alone. So, so fucking alone.”
It is clichés and Nate knows it, but he doesn’t care, right now he doesn’t give a shit about any of his academic achievements or the knowledge that he is a case study for fucking post adolescent angst. All he cares about is that Jesse is staying, not just for now, not just for another semester. Jesse is staying.
Jesse crosses the small room in two quick strides and there is a surrender of understanding in his arms, in the press of his lips on Nate’s throat, in the way he whispers “Fuck me.” Deliberate and gentle, his hand already tugging at the fastening of Nate’s pants.
It’s brutally honest in the early light of winter, and their bodies, young and pale under the cheap sheets, moves with the same cadence of the snow, slow, muted in silence by too many emotions. And, even if there is no easy salvation in love, love is all they have.
They will make it work.