(no subject)
Author: veiledndarkness
Title: Bobby's Method - Part 4 - Complete
Word Count: 2200
Rating: R for violence and swearing and for a bit of hinted smut.
Summary: Alone with him.
Warnings: Usual disclaimer. Still not mine.
AU, in that Evelyn doesn't die. The story explains it, though I've altered the ages. The proper ages still stand (31 and 19) but this takes place a bit earlier. Jack is 16, so Bobby is 28.
One
Two
Three
*
Jack sighs and picks at his breakfast, his appetite has deserted him. Bobby glances at him, his eyes peering over the morning newspaper. "Eat, Jackie," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jack lifts his fork, scowling at the plate. "Not gonna be gettin' any phone calls from Ma wonderin' why you passed out from not eating," Bobby says dryly.
"I'm eating," Jack says stubbornly, poking his waffles as though they might crawl up his fork and attack him. "You're messin' around, eat already," Bobby counters, pushing more force into his voice. Jack sighs inwardly and finishes his breakfast.
"Look, I know you don't wanna go today, but you hafta," Bobby says, putting the paper down then. Jack glares at his plate, stabbing the waffle harder than necessary. "I hate school," he whispers fiercely. "I know," Bobby says again. "But you gotta go."
"You dropped out," Jack mumbles. Bobby nods. "You really wanna end up like me?" he snorts. Jack looks at him then, his forehead furrowed. "What?" he says softly. Bobby shakes his head. "Nothin'...finish eating," he says as he leaves the table to take his shower.
*
Bobby drops Jack off at the school an hour later. Jack sits in the seat, fidgeting with his chains that hang by his thigh. "You remember how to get home, right Jackie?" Bobby asks him. Home...Jack nods, darting a glance at Bobby. "I'm on shift till 6," he says. "I'll be home by about six-thirty. Don't burn the place down, huh?"
Jack glares at him. "I'm better at cookin' than you'll ever be," he snaps. Bobby irritates him further by chuckling. "Easy sweetheart," he soothes, holding Jack's hand. "Just go, get the day over with, and remember what I told ya, anyone starts anything, you don't go runnin' from it, but don't start any shit either, got it?"
Jack feels a warm tingle spread through their joined hands. He nods absently, heat pooling his belly. "Y-yeah," he stutters. Bobby leans in and tugs Jack close to him, resting their foreheads together. "I'll see you tonight," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to his warm cheek. Jack inhales sharply, a dizzy wave crashing over him. "Right," he whispers. He pulls back and grabs his backpack, trudging inside the school. He chances one look back and sees Bobby watching him walk away, a sad look of longing crossing his features until he sees Jack watching him. He pulls away from the curb abruptly, driving off.
*
Jack putters around the kitchen, humming along with the music from the radio. He keeps the radio on as the apartment seems so empty without Bobby. The sound of a key in the door makes his stomach flutter. Bobby enters a moment later, locking the door behind him. "Jack?" he calls. Jack comes out of the kitchen and hugs Bobby, inhaling the scent of cigarettes, machinery and his soap. Bobby huffs out a laugh and hugs him back.
"Miss me, did ya?" he asks. Jack nods wordlessly. The day was harder than he thought. After being alone with Bobby for almost a week, it feels weird and unusual to be apart from him.
"C'mon," Bobby murmurs, shifting away from him. Jack follows him to the kitchen and stirs the noodles for their dinner. Bobby tells him a bit of how his day went and how one of the other men recognized him from when they were kids. "You shoulda seen the look on his face," Bobby laughs, taking a beer from the fridge. "He was scared shitless."
Jack makes their dinner without saying much. He feels like the words are caught in his throat. They eat in a comfortable near silence, with Jack rinsing the dishes before he joins Bobby on the couch. Bobby stretches out, Jack curling alongside him, his long legs propped on the arm at the other end. Bobby watches the hockey game, one hand stroking Jack's hair, his strong fingers massaging the tension from him slowly.
Jack feels the urge to purr, and swallows the sound before it escapes his mouth. He finds it difficult to reconcile this version of Bobby with the one who hurts people, who loves seeing the fear on their faces when he gets close to them. The Bobby who uses violence to get his message across, the one who'd never let him continue on his path of drugs. His thing, the gas thing, making Jack help him, all those motions and actions are easy to ignore when Bobby's rubbing his scalp tenderly, loving him without any words.
He feels guilt, incredible guilt at what he's done. Bobby notices the sudden tenseness in Jack and tilts his head to meet his gaze. "What's wrong?" he asks. Jack shakes his head, blinking back tears. "Somethin' upset you," he counters. "Tell me."
No room for argument. "You made me help you," he whispers. Recognition dawns in Bobby's eyes. He nods, his hand cupping Jack's cheek. "I did, yeah," he says. Jack blinks, a tear escaping from one eye. "You know why, we talked about this," Bobby says patiently.
Jack tries to get up, shaking his head again. Bobby holds him in place easily, Jack's strength no match for the muscles in his arms. "You gotta understand somethin', Jackie," he says softly. "That guy had it comin', an' you know that. He wasn't some good guy that got mixed up in crazy shit. He was a dealer, and he didn't give a shit who he sold to."
Jack squirms, guilt gnawing him clean through. "M'sorry," he whispers brokenly. Bobby shifts, lying down again, running his fingers through Jack's hair. "He wasn't no nice guy, Jack. An' you were hurtin' yourself and Ma by falling into that kind of life. You deserve a better chance."
Bobby presses a kiss to Jack's forehead and holds him, understanding the silence between them. Jack holds onto Bobby, his guilt still lingering. He feels a flicker of peace at knowing that Bobby doesn't expect him to be some sort of thug, to follow the stereotype.
*
They settle into a routine soon enough. Bobby helps with the cleaning a bit, though Jack does the majority. He rationalizes that since he's home so much earlier, he should find something to do with his time. Bobby appreciates his efforts, this Jack knows. The grateful look on his face when there's a hot meal waiting for him when he gets home from work makes the effort worthwhile. Jack sits and eats with him, listening to his stories.
After dinner each night, they lie on the couch, relaxing. Jack curls up to Bobby, sighing contently when he feels Bobby's fingers wander down to his hair. Those moments he craves, the touch reassures and centers him. He can forget the way the other kids sneer at him, or even flat-out ignore him, something he prefers. He's not bullied, but he's not accepted either. He watches the clock, eager to escape the school's walls and go back to his home, his rooms of comfort and wait for Bobby.
Evelyn comes to visit them the following week, her car loaded down with more items that she's convinced they'll need, and extra food. Bobby rolls his eyes and hugs her tightly, urging Jack to come greet her. Jack hesitates for a moment, chewing on his finger nails. He can't explain it aloud, but suddenly, he's afraid. Afraid that Evelyn will know everything, the things he thinks of when he's alone, the things he wishes he and Bobby would do, and worse, expect him to leave, come back with her. He's rooted to the spot, eyes wide and frightened at the prospect of being taken from Bobby.
She approaches him slowly, accustomed to his bouts of nervousness. She tells him how much she's missed him, and how glad she is that they're taking care of each other. Jack relaxes minutely and hugs her, Bobby's dark eyes on him, watching him carefully. Jack closes his eyes, breathing out in small breaths, inhaling Evelyn's familiar smell. He remembers how much he's missed her, missed the sound of her knitting needles clacking, the smell of her cookies baking. He hugs her tighter, torn between wanting her to stay and his desire to have Bobby alone with him again, their sanctuary away from the outside world.
They have dinner, and Evelyn surprises them with several containers of her trademark sweets, cookies and a mouthwatering apple pie. Bobby complains that she's trying to fatten them up, ignoring her casual swat to the back of his head. Jack feels comforted by the familiarity of everything. The warm kitchen, the laughter and the love he can almost see in the air. Jack shows her around the small apartment. If she notices that only Bobby's bed is rumpled while Jack's is untouched, she doesn't say. Jack takes small comfort from that, and he wonders vaguely how many times she saw or found Jack in Bobby's bed before they moved.
That night, long after Evelyn has left, Jack crawls into Bobby's bed, his breath still smelling faintly of apples, despite his mint flavored toothpaste. Bobby rolls over, silently pulling Jack closer to him. He blinks sleepily, giving Jack a small smile. Jack looks at him, his hand straying to his mouth out of habit. Bobby takes Jack hand and pushes down. "Don't bite 'em," he instructs him. "Bad for you."
Jack sighs, his face so close to Bobby's. He nods, tugging the blankets up over his chin. His sleep is uneasy, filled with dreams of being lured into Evelyn's home, made purely of candy, Bobby pushing him into the fire, insisting that it's for his own good. He wakes, screaming hoarsely and begging for forgiveness. Bobby holds him, rubbing his back until his shudders stop, his sleep-thick voice soothing his rattled nerves. He sniffs, tears leaking slowly. Bobby kisses his forehead and shifts around, pulling Jack flush to his chest. Jack closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again, Bobby's warm arms holding him tightly.
*
For a week straight, Jack wakes from his nightmares, screaming apologies for the wrongs he's done. Bobby does his best to soothe Jack, his patience beginning to wear thin on the seventh night. Jack refuses to talk about the dreams, unable to voice his fears to Bobby. The bruised look to his eyes keeps Bobby from getting too upset. Jack rests his head on Bobby's chest, his fingers tracing the rosary tattoo. Bobby closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle push of Jack's fingers on his skin.
"Can't hurt to tell me," Bobby whispers eventually. Jack glances at him, his palm pressed to the bottom of the rosary. "You might get mad," Jack mumbles. Bobby chuckles lowly, his exhales ruffling Jack's messy hair. "When have I ever been able to stay mad at you, Jackie?" he asks, brushing his lips over Jack's forehead.
Jack peers up at him, bravely resting his fingers on Bobby's cheek, his thumb touching the hair that grows along his chin. He breathes out shakily, inches from his face. Bobby opens his eyes and looks at him, his eyes so dark, Jack feels fear, strong fear. He's drowning in Bobby's gaze, pinned and exposed under those eyes. They lie in silence, each hardly breathing. Jack feels Bobby's rapid heartbeat under his right hand. Bobby breaks the eye contact abruptly, color flooding his face. He looks torn, upset and confused.
Jack shifts slightly, holding Bobby's head still. "Once, just once, I need..." he whispers, licking his too-dry lips. Bobby looks panicked for a moment, his eyes widening. Jack leans in and kisses him, pressing his mouth to Bobby's, exhilarated to have this kiss, the one he's wanted for so long. Bobby's frozen for a minute, his panic growing. He rests his hand on Jack's arm and deepens the kiss, giving in to the urges he has.
"Bobby..." Jack sighs when they part, his eyes half-closed, and his lips a bit swollen. Bobby breathes out, guilt washing over his face. "Oh god..." he mutters. "I...shit, Jackie, I'm sorry."
Jack looks at him in alarm. "I...I shouldn't have," Bobby nods his head, one shaking hand covering his mouth. To his embarrassment, Jack feels tears trickling from his eyes. "But..." he whispers. Jack slumps against the bed, resting his hand on the tattooed rosary again. "Is it really that wrong?" he murmurs brokenly.
"You're so young, Jackie," Bobby whispers sadly. Jack nods, rubbing each colorful bead. "Is that the only reason?" he asks. Bobby bites his lip, fearful of the answer. "I'm sixteen," Jack mumbles. "Stop treatin' me like a little kid."
Bobby tilts Jack head and eyes him closely. "Not everyone will understand," he warns him. Jack nods. "I don't care what anyone thinks," he says with some false bravado. All he knows is what he wants, and he wants Bobby, and in that moment, when Bobby's heated lips close on his, he feels as though he's on fire, and for once, he's not afraid.
*
Title: Bobby's Method - Part 4 - Complete
Word Count: 2200
Rating: R for violence and swearing and for a bit of hinted smut.
Summary: Alone with him.
Warnings: Usual disclaimer. Still not mine.
AU, in that Evelyn doesn't die. The story explains it, though I've altered the ages. The proper ages still stand (31 and 19) but this takes place a bit earlier. Jack is 16, so Bobby is 28.
One
Two
Three
*
Jack sighs and picks at his breakfast, his appetite has deserted him. Bobby glances at him, his eyes peering over the morning newspaper. "Eat, Jackie," he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jack lifts his fork, scowling at the plate. "Not gonna be gettin' any phone calls from Ma wonderin' why you passed out from not eating," Bobby says dryly.
"I'm eating," Jack says stubbornly, poking his waffles as though they might crawl up his fork and attack him. "You're messin' around, eat already," Bobby counters, pushing more force into his voice. Jack sighs inwardly and finishes his breakfast.
"Look, I know you don't wanna go today, but you hafta," Bobby says, putting the paper down then. Jack glares at his plate, stabbing the waffle harder than necessary. "I hate school," he whispers fiercely. "I know," Bobby says again. "But you gotta go."
"You dropped out," Jack mumbles. Bobby nods. "You really wanna end up like me?" he snorts. Jack looks at him then, his forehead furrowed. "What?" he says softly. Bobby shakes his head. "Nothin'...finish eating," he says as he leaves the table to take his shower.
*
Bobby drops Jack off at the school an hour later. Jack sits in the seat, fidgeting with his chains that hang by his thigh. "You remember how to get home, right Jackie?" Bobby asks him. Home...Jack nods, darting a glance at Bobby. "I'm on shift till 6," he says. "I'll be home by about six-thirty. Don't burn the place down, huh?"
Jack glares at him. "I'm better at cookin' than you'll ever be," he snaps. Bobby irritates him further by chuckling. "Easy sweetheart," he soothes, holding Jack's hand. "Just go, get the day over with, and remember what I told ya, anyone starts anything, you don't go runnin' from it, but don't start any shit either, got it?"
Jack feels a warm tingle spread through their joined hands. He nods absently, heat pooling his belly. "Y-yeah," he stutters. Bobby leans in and tugs Jack close to him, resting their foreheads together. "I'll see you tonight," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to his warm cheek. Jack inhales sharply, a dizzy wave crashing over him. "Right," he whispers. He pulls back and grabs his backpack, trudging inside the school. He chances one look back and sees Bobby watching him walk away, a sad look of longing crossing his features until he sees Jack watching him. He pulls away from the curb abruptly, driving off.
*
Jack putters around the kitchen, humming along with the music from the radio. He keeps the radio on as the apartment seems so empty without Bobby. The sound of a key in the door makes his stomach flutter. Bobby enters a moment later, locking the door behind him. "Jack?" he calls. Jack comes out of the kitchen and hugs Bobby, inhaling the scent of cigarettes, machinery and his soap. Bobby huffs out a laugh and hugs him back.
"Miss me, did ya?" he asks. Jack nods wordlessly. The day was harder than he thought. After being alone with Bobby for almost a week, it feels weird and unusual to be apart from him.
"C'mon," Bobby murmurs, shifting away from him. Jack follows him to the kitchen and stirs the noodles for their dinner. Bobby tells him a bit of how his day went and how one of the other men recognized him from when they were kids. "You shoulda seen the look on his face," Bobby laughs, taking a beer from the fridge. "He was scared shitless."
Jack makes their dinner without saying much. He feels like the words are caught in his throat. They eat in a comfortable near silence, with Jack rinsing the dishes before he joins Bobby on the couch. Bobby stretches out, Jack curling alongside him, his long legs propped on the arm at the other end. Bobby watches the hockey game, one hand stroking Jack's hair, his strong fingers massaging the tension from him slowly.
Jack feels the urge to purr, and swallows the sound before it escapes his mouth. He finds it difficult to reconcile this version of Bobby with the one who hurts people, who loves seeing the fear on their faces when he gets close to them. The Bobby who uses violence to get his message across, the one who'd never let him continue on his path of drugs. His thing, the gas thing, making Jack help him, all those motions and actions are easy to ignore when Bobby's rubbing his scalp tenderly, loving him without any words.
He feels guilt, incredible guilt at what he's done. Bobby notices the sudden tenseness in Jack and tilts his head to meet his gaze. "What's wrong?" he asks. Jack shakes his head, blinking back tears. "Somethin' upset you," he counters. "Tell me."
No room for argument. "You made me help you," he whispers. Recognition dawns in Bobby's eyes. He nods, his hand cupping Jack's cheek. "I did, yeah," he says. Jack blinks, a tear escaping from one eye. "You know why, we talked about this," Bobby says patiently.
Jack tries to get up, shaking his head again. Bobby holds him in place easily, Jack's strength no match for the muscles in his arms. "You gotta understand somethin', Jackie," he says softly. "That guy had it comin', an' you know that. He wasn't some good guy that got mixed up in crazy shit. He was a dealer, and he didn't give a shit who he sold to."
Jack squirms, guilt gnawing him clean through. "M'sorry," he whispers brokenly. Bobby shifts, lying down again, running his fingers through Jack's hair. "He wasn't no nice guy, Jack. An' you were hurtin' yourself and Ma by falling into that kind of life. You deserve a better chance."
Bobby presses a kiss to Jack's forehead and holds him, understanding the silence between them. Jack holds onto Bobby, his guilt still lingering. He feels a flicker of peace at knowing that Bobby doesn't expect him to be some sort of thug, to follow the stereotype.
*
They settle into a routine soon enough. Bobby helps with the cleaning a bit, though Jack does the majority. He rationalizes that since he's home so much earlier, he should find something to do with his time. Bobby appreciates his efforts, this Jack knows. The grateful look on his face when there's a hot meal waiting for him when he gets home from work makes the effort worthwhile. Jack sits and eats with him, listening to his stories.
After dinner each night, they lie on the couch, relaxing. Jack curls up to Bobby, sighing contently when he feels Bobby's fingers wander down to his hair. Those moments he craves, the touch reassures and centers him. He can forget the way the other kids sneer at him, or even flat-out ignore him, something he prefers. He's not bullied, but he's not accepted either. He watches the clock, eager to escape the school's walls and go back to his home, his rooms of comfort and wait for Bobby.
Evelyn comes to visit them the following week, her car loaded down with more items that she's convinced they'll need, and extra food. Bobby rolls his eyes and hugs her tightly, urging Jack to come greet her. Jack hesitates for a moment, chewing on his finger nails. He can't explain it aloud, but suddenly, he's afraid. Afraid that Evelyn will know everything, the things he thinks of when he's alone, the things he wishes he and Bobby would do, and worse, expect him to leave, come back with her. He's rooted to the spot, eyes wide and frightened at the prospect of being taken from Bobby.
She approaches him slowly, accustomed to his bouts of nervousness. She tells him how much she's missed him, and how glad she is that they're taking care of each other. Jack relaxes minutely and hugs her, Bobby's dark eyes on him, watching him carefully. Jack closes his eyes, breathing out in small breaths, inhaling Evelyn's familiar smell. He remembers how much he's missed her, missed the sound of her knitting needles clacking, the smell of her cookies baking. He hugs her tighter, torn between wanting her to stay and his desire to have Bobby alone with him again, their sanctuary away from the outside world.
They have dinner, and Evelyn surprises them with several containers of her trademark sweets, cookies and a mouthwatering apple pie. Bobby complains that she's trying to fatten them up, ignoring her casual swat to the back of his head. Jack feels comforted by the familiarity of everything. The warm kitchen, the laughter and the love he can almost see in the air. Jack shows her around the small apartment. If she notices that only Bobby's bed is rumpled while Jack's is untouched, she doesn't say. Jack takes small comfort from that, and he wonders vaguely how many times she saw or found Jack in Bobby's bed before they moved.
That night, long after Evelyn has left, Jack crawls into Bobby's bed, his breath still smelling faintly of apples, despite his mint flavored toothpaste. Bobby rolls over, silently pulling Jack closer to him. He blinks sleepily, giving Jack a small smile. Jack looks at him, his hand straying to his mouth out of habit. Bobby takes Jack hand and pushes down. "Don't bite 'em," he instructs him. "Bad for you."
Jack sighs, his face so close to Bobby's. He nods, tugging the blankets up over his chin. His sleep is uneasy, filled with dreams of being lured into Evelyn's home, made purely of candy, Bobby pushing him into the fire, insisting that it's for his own good. He wakes, screaming hoarsely and begging for forgiveness. Bobby holds him, rubbing his back until his shudders stop, his sleep-thick voice soothing his rattled nerves. He sniffs, tears leaking slowly. Bobby kisses his forehead and shifts around, pulling Jack flush to his chest. Jack closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again, Bobby's warm arms holding him tightly.
*
For a week straight, Jack wakes from his nightmares, screaming apologies for the wrongs he's done. Bobby does his best to soothe Jack, his patience beginning to wear thin on the seventh night. Jack refuses to talk about the dreams, unable to voice his fears to Bobby. The bruised look to his eyes keeps Bobby from getting too upset. Jack rests his head on Bobby's chest, his fingers tracing the rosary tattoo. Bobby closes his eyes, enjoying the gentle push of Jack's fingers on his skin.
"Can't hurt to tell me," Bobby whispers eventually. Jack glances at him, his palm pressed to the bottom of the rosary. "You might get mad," Jack mumbles. Bobby chuckles lowly, his exhales ruffling Jack's messy hair. "When have I ever been able to stay mad at you, Jackie?" he asks, brushing his lips over Jack's forehead.
Jack peers up at him, bravely resting his fingers on Bobby's cheek, his thumb touching the hair that grows along his chin. He breathes out shakily, inches from his face. Bobby opens his eyes and looks at him, his eyes so dark, Jack feels fear, strong fear. He's drowning in Bobby's gaze, pinned and exposed under those eyes. They lie in silence, each hardly breathing. Jack feels Bobby's rapid heartbeat under his right hand. Bobby breaks the eye contact abruptly, color flooding his face. He looks torn, upset and confused.
Jack shifts slightly, holding Bobby's head still. "Once, just once, I need..." he whispers, licking his too-dry lips. Bobby looks panicked for a moment, his eyes widening. Jack leans in and kisses him, pressing his mouth to Bobby's, exhilarated to have this kiss, the one he's wanted for so long. Bobby's frozen for a minute, his panic growing. He rests his hand on Jack's arm and deepens the kiss, giving in to the urges he has.
"Bobby..." Jack sighs when they part, his eyes half-closed, and his lips a bit swollen. Bobby breathes out, guilt washing over his face. "Oh god..." he mutters. "I...shit, Jackie, I'm sorry."
Jack looks at him in alarm. "I...I shouldn't have," Bobby nods his head, one shaking hand covering his mouth. To his embarrassment, Jack feels tears trickling from his eyes. "But..." he whispers. Jack slumps against the bed, resting his hand on the tattooed rosary again. "Is it really that wrong?" he murmurs brokenly.
"You're so young, Jackie," Bobby whispers sadly. Jack nods, rubbing each colorful bead. "Is that the only reason?" he asks. Bobby bites his lip, fearful of the answer. "I'm sixteen," Jack mumbles. "Stop treatin' me like a little kid."
Bobby tilts Jack head and eyes him closely. "Not everyone will understand," he warns him. Jack nods. "I don't care what anyone thinks," he says with some false bravado. All he knows is what he wants, and he wants Bobby, and in that moment, when Bobby's heated lips close on his, he feels as though he's on fire, and for once, he's not afraid.
*