FIC: meanwhile in new york
title: meanwhile in new york
pairing: andrew/jesse
rating : pg-13
disclaimer: this is fiction. for love, not profit.
summary: while my soul was literally crushed by the mtv movie awards, i love fyff chat and everyone in it. reogulus, fakebody and lovesletyoudown, this is especially for you. (1,760 words)
eta: the extremely amazing pidgeoned wrote a fic inspired by this one, called because i love the unknown. i am so flattered i might actually die, as she is flawless. go read it, soak in the perfection, etc.
this fic has been translated into chinese by amilie86.
author’s note: If you weren’t watching, Jesse didn’t attend the awards because he was doing this. The show ran long and they ended up not even announcing Best Breakout Star (which Andrew didn’t win). Andrew left early. In my head, this is what happened before, during and after said events.
*
The text message comes through at 6:26 a.m. Andrew awakes with a start in his Los Angeles hotel room, fumbles for his phone and reads it through bleary eyes.
From: Jess
Sent: 6:26 AM
Subject: Tonight
Up all night filming and they need me again tonight. I can’t make it. I’m sorry. :(
Andrew is jet-lagged and barely conscious, and somehow his day has managed to get worse within ten seconds of waking up.
The prospect of attending the awards alone is bad enough. The realization that he’s going to be flying back to London tomorrow morning without actually having seen Jesse is more than he can handle right now. Andrew groans, rolls back over and pulls the pillow over his head.
The world can wait another few hours, he thinks, already drifting to sleep again. There’s always the chance it’s just a bad dream.
*
It’s not a dream. Andrew knows this with certainty when he wakes again several hours later, and picks up his phone to see two missed calls and a string of text messages from Jesse.
From: Jess
Sent: 7:04 AM
Subject: I’m sorry.
I know I said that already, but it bears repeating.
From: Jess
Sent: 7:41 AM
Subject: …
I was really looking forward to seeing you.
From: Jess
Sent: 8:19 AM
Subject: I’m really, really sorry.
I hope you know how much I want to be there. I would be if I could, really.
From: Jess
Sent: 8:57 AM
Subject: Andrew?
Can you pick up your phone, please?
From: Jess
Sent: 9:22 AM
Subject: OK
I understand, but please reassure me that you are in fact (a.) alive and (b.) going to speak to me again at some point.
Andrew curses under his breath. It was a mistake not to answer the first message right away; he should have known how Jesse would interpret that. It’s just after ten now, early afternoon in New York, and Jesse should be sleeping off his all-nighter, not worrying that Andrew is giving him the silent treatment.
Texting is not going to cut it. Andrew presses the call button, and Jesse picks up halfway through the first ring.
“Hey.” Jesse sounds exhausted and on edge, and Andrew slightly hates himself.
“Jess,” he jumps right in, “I’m not ignoring you, I just slept through your messages. I mean, I woke up when you sent the first one, sort of, but I wasn’t really awake and I wasn’t thinking and I am extremely sorry.”
“Oh. I-okay.” Jesse sounds tentative, unconvinced.
“I’m not mad, Jess, okay?” Andrew tries again. “I get it, you know that, and even if I were upset, do you honestly think I’d just refuse to speak to you?”
“I didn’t know,” Jesse says softly, and Andrew could kick himself. This is still so new, and it’s not like they’ve ever really gotten in a fight before. It’s not fair to expect Jesse to know better, not yet.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, helplessly.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I didn’t mean-look, I just should have responded right off.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have jumped right to the assumption that you hated me.” Jesse pauses, then continues in a rush: “I just, you rearranged everything to be there, and I know it was only going to be one night but it’s been weeks since we saw each other and I thought-”
“I know.” Andrew runs a hand through his hair, exhales slowly and lets the disappointment sink in. “God, I hate this.”
“Me too,” Jesse tells him, with feeling.
“Look, we’ll figure something else out, all right?” Andrew tries to sound optimistic, though he can’t actually imagine how they’re going to do that, given their chaotically busy schedules. “Meanwhile, you should get some sleep before you have to be back on set, yeah?”
“I should.” Jesse sounds resigned, a little sad. “I’ll call you later? If I can, I mean.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” If he ignores the tightness in his chest, Andrew thinks, it will go away on its own. Maybe.
“I really do wish I could be there tonight,” Jesse adds, a little wistfully.
“I can’t imagine why. You hate Twilight,” Andrew teases him, and Jesse laughs, and just like that they’re mostly okay again.
*
It’s one of the worst events Andrew has ever attended, and not just because Jesse isn’t there, although that is admittedly a big part of it. Really, though, the whole thing feels sort of thrown-together and badly carried off, not to mention in worse taste than usual. The highlight of Andrew’s night is the snarky text-message commentary coming from Emma, who’s seated directly in front of him.
From: Emma
Sent: 6:16 PM
Subject: this already sucks
deeply jealous of jt right now. mila’s rack is amazing.
From: Emma
Sent: 6:21 PM
Subject: insert male performance joke here
i suggest consoling jesse with sex as that has worked well in the past (cough cough oscars afterparty). but please lock the door this time as i still cannot get the image of your naked ass out of my head.
From: Emma
Sent: 6:22 PM
Subject: also
btw, your ass? not that great.
From: Emma
Sent: 6:58 PM
Subject: that was unexpected and awesome
i can see taylor lautner’s boner from here.
The evening seems to drag unbelievably slowly. Andrew is almost relieved when, near the end of the ceremony, he gets a text from his manager: Not announcing breakout star due to time constraints. Chloe got it. Sorry. Car’s waiting when you’re ready.
Thanks, he texts back, and slips out immediately after.
On the ride back to his hotel, Andrew flips idly through flight schedules on his phone, fantasizing about catching a plane and showing up in New York to surprise Jesse. Realistically, though, he knows he can’t; it’s almost midnight in New York already, and it would be morning by the time he got there. Jesse has to be on set again tomorrow night, and Andrew has to be back in London bright and early on Tuesday. It’s not going to work.
He wants nothing more than to pick up the phone and hear Jesse’s voice, but Jesse almost certainly won’t answer, so he settles for a text message.
From: Andrew
Sent: 8:11 PM
Subject: separation - w.s. merwin
your absence has gone through me
like thread through a needle.
everything i do is stitched with its color.
The response doesn’t come for quite a while. Andrew’s back in his hotel room, showered and changed, settling down to watch some TV and wait for Jesse’s call, when his phone finally buzzes softly.
From: Jess
Sent: 10:31 PM
Subject: I miss you, too.
We’re going to be okay.
It doesn’t make a whole hell of a lot of sense, but Andrew figures that can be chalked it up to sleep deprivation. Jesse’s had a week of late nights, and he probably hasn’t gotten much sleep at all today. Thanks to me, Andrew thinks wryly, feeling guilty all over again for making Jesse anxious, resolving to apologize again when Jesse calls. If he calls.
An hour later, Andrew’s phone goes off again.
From: Emma
Sent: 11:28 PM
Subject: open your door, asshole
i can hear you moping from out here. open up, we’re going out.
Andrew suppresses a groan and gets up, formulating excuses all the way to the door. He adores Emma, he really and truly does, but he has absolutely no interest in parties tonight. He’s not in the mood, he doesn’t want to miss talking to Jesse, and his flight back to London leaves at 2:00 tomorrow, which means he needs to be at the airport by noon. True, Andrew slept nearly all day today and isn’t actually tired in the least, but Emma doesn’t need to know that.
Andrew flings the door open, an excuse already halfway out of his mouth, but then he registers what he’s seeing and the words abruptly die on his lips.
Jesse is standing there, looking a little sheepish but also extremely pleased. There’s no sign of Emma. Andrew blinks a few times, shakes his head, stares.
“I am jet-lagged,” he says, slowly. “I am hallucinating.”
“You’re not,” Jesse promises. “It’s me. I’m here.”
“I thought you had work?”
“I did.”
“Then how did you-”
Jesse shrugs, his blue eyes bright. “I told them there was somewhere I needed to be.”
“Emma…?”
“I called her when I landed in L.A., right after I sent you that text. I wanted to surprise you.”
“Come here,” Andrew says softly, and Jesse steps into the room. Andrew pushes the door closed behind him, wraps his arms around Jesse’s waist, and Jesse twines his arms around Andrew’s neck and leans into him. He’s got faint circles under his eyes and he’s lost weight since Andrew saw him last, but he’s smiling, and he’s here.
“Love you,” Jesse says into Andrew’s shoulder, muffled.
“I love you, too.” Andrew tells him, pulling back just enough to meet Jesse’s eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“I’m here,” Jesse assures him, “and we’ve got about twelve hours. What do you want to do?”
“Are you tired?” Andrew asks hesitantly. Actually, there’s an extremely long list of things he wants to do-but all things considered, he could be content to spend the next twelve hours watching Jesse sleep.
Jesse smiles, shakes his head. “I slept on the plane, and I’ve been doing night shoots for a week. I’m good. You?”
“I slept all day.” Andrew grins down at him. “I’m wide awake.”
“So,” Jesse says thoughtfully, toying with the hem of Andrew’s shirt, “why exactly are we still standing here?”
“So I can do this,” Andrew tells him, and then they’re kissing, soft and slow, Jesse’s mouth opening eagerly when Andrew’s tongue traces his lips, Andrew’s hands sliding up under Jesse’s shirt.
“You can do that in bed,” Jesse tells him when they part, taking Andrew’s hand and tugging gently. “Come on. Let’s stay up all night.”