Fic: S.W.A.K. (Zach/Bennet PG-13)
Title: S.W.A.K. (Sealed with a Kiss)
Author: Veet Voojagig
Pairing: Zach/Bennet
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes it helps to get your thoughts down on paper.
Prompt: Love (slashyheroes15)
Special thanks to TriciaSama for helping me with the title, and to Lir for trying but not coming up with anything better. *winks*
Dear Mr. Bennet,
There are so many things I want to say to you I don't know where to begin. I shouldn't be writing this, and I know I'm too chicken to ever send it, but this is what I want to tell you.
I like you, Mr. Bennet. I like you a lot. More than I should. More than-hell, I'll say it. I think I love you.
There. Ok. It's down on paper. I love you.
What now? I don't know. What would you do if you knew? I know. You'd totally freak out. That's why I'm never going to tell you.
I think it's pretty obvious by now that I'm just talking to myself. I love you too much to place the burden of my feelings on you. You can't return them. I know that, and don't expect anything from you.
I'm writing this, though, because the secret's growing too hard to bear, and I don't have anyone to talk to.
You've gotta know that I don't have many friends. It's kinda painfully obvious. And out of those few, the only one I really trust enough to tell this kind of thing to is Claire. Weird, huh, considering how a few months ago I'd have been freaked if she said “hi” to me in the hall.
Anyway, I can't tell her this. It'd be too... I don't know. Strange. I think she'd be even more weirded out than you would. I mean, at least you can see yourself as a sexual being. You're her dad. She can't understand how absolutely gorgeous you are.
You are, you know. Stunning. I just wanna strip you naked and lick you all over.
Fuck, I shouldn't have said that. But what the hell does it matter? No one's ever gonna see this. I can say what I want.
And what I want is you.
I'm rambling now, aren't I? Stream of consciousness writing, that's what my English teacher calls it. It's supposed to be therapeutic.
I guess I need therapy.
Anyway. Yeah, so I want you. It's not just your body. Your looks. I mean, those are nice. Really, really nice. But there's more. Everything, really. Everything that makes you you.
I like your eyes. Deep, inscrutable. They look like they see things about me that no one else does. You pay attention to things. Observant.
Hell, maybe you know all this already. I'm just fooling myself, thinking I can hide anything from those piercing eyes of yours. You have to know. I still can't tell you. Then you'd have to do something about it.
It's killing me, pretending that you don't mean anything to me when I see you. But I can't stay away. I come over on the off chance that you'll be there, that I'll catch a glimpse of you before I retreat with Claire somewhere to talk or study or whatever.
I know it's hopeless, but I can't let you go.
I love you, Mr. Bennet. And that will never change.
Zachary
Fingers slowly refolded the paper along worn lines and curled around the resulting square as others had done many times before, given its state. Thoughts whirled. Something had to be done.
Knuckles rapped on hard wood, a hand closed around the doorknob. The door slid open. “Dad?” The girl's voice preceded her by just a moment before she poked her head inside. “I think you should see this.”
Author: Veet Voojagig
Pairing: Zach/Bennet
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes it helps to get your thoughts down on paper.
Prompt: Love (slashyheroes15)
Special thanks to TriciaSama for helping me with the title, and to Lir for trying but not coming up with anything better. *winks*
Dear Mr. Bennet,
There are so many things I want to say to you I don't know where to begin. I shouldn't be writing this, and I know I'm too chicken to ever send it, but this is what I want to tell you.
I like you, Mr. Bennet. I like you a lot. More than I should. More than-hell, I'll say it. I think I love you.
There. Ok. It's down on paper. I love you.
What now? I don't know. What would you do if you knew? I know. You'd totally freak out. That's why I'm never going to tell you.
I think it's pretty obvious by now that I'm just talking to myself. I love you too much to place the burden of my feelings on you. You can't return them. I know that, and don't expect anything from you.
I'm writing this, though, because the secret's growing too hard to bear, and I don't have anyone to talk to.
You've gotta know that I don't have many friends. It's kinda painfully obvious. And out of those few, the only one I really trust enough to tell this kind of thing to is Claire. Weird, huh, considering how a few months ago I'd have been freaked if she said “hi” to me in the hall.
Anyway, I can't tell her this. It'd be too... I don't know. Strange. I think she'd be even more weirded out than you would. I mean, at least you can see yourself as a sexual being. You're her dad. She can't understand how absolutely gorgeous you are.
You are, you know. Stunning. I just wanna strip you naked and lick you all over.
Fuck, I shouldn't have said that. But what the hell does it matter? No one's ever gonna see this. I can say what I want.
And what I want is you.
I'm rambling now, aren't I? Stream of consciousness writing, that's what my English teacher calls it. It's supposed to be therapeutic.
I guess I need therapy.
Anyway. Yeah, so I want you. It's not just your body. Your looks. I mean, those are nice. Really, really nice. But there's more. Everything, really. Everything that makes you you.
I like your eyes. Deep, inscrutable. They look like they see things about me that no one else does. You pay attention to things. Observant.
Hell, maybe you know all this already. I'm just fooling myself, thinking I can hide anything from those piercing eyes of yours. You have to know. I still can't tell you. Then you'd have to do something about it.
It's killing me, pretending that you don't mean anything to me when I see you. But I can't stay away. I come over on the off chance that you'll be there, that I'll catch a glimpse of you before I retreat with Claire somewhere to talk or study or whatever.
I know it's hopeless, but I can't let you go.
I love you, Mr. Bennet. And that will never change.
Zachary
Fingers slowly refolded the paper along worn lines and curled around the resulting square as others had done many times before, given its state. Thoughts whirled. Something had to be done.
Knuckles rapped on hard wood, a hand closed around the doorknob. The door slid open. “Dad?” The girl's voice preceded her by just a moment before she poked her head inside. “I think you should see this.”