Sober {TABLE 43}
Summary: Jack meets Oli drunk, and then Tom sober { table.}
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sure
Jack drinks. He doesn't do it for the numbness - he already has that - or the high. He drinks for the hangovers. Jack’s been numb or, for lack of a better word, empty for a while. Alex left him a while ago - a year ago tomorrow, actually. Not that Jack’s counting or anything - and he’s been unable to really feel since then. Food tastes rubbery, music and TV are pointless, fire whiskey hardly burns anymore; he just doesn’t feel.
He almost always has a Jack & Coke for breakfast. The irony befalls Jack because it used to be a joke between Alex and him. Now, it’s a painful memory and a quick shot before he goes to the living room. He doesn’t work. The band had made so much when they were big - two years ago was the downfall - that he didn’t have to. Jack always gets up by noon. He turns on Fuse but doesn’t watch and barely listens. He’s only waiting for five. Jack tries to retain some form of dignity not having anymore than Jack Daniels until after five o’clock.
On Saturdays Jack restocks. He drives to the Kick - used to be Quick until an illiterate immigrant bought it - Mart that sits between his and the next neighborhood. Jack’s day life is pretty depressing.
Ten o’clock rolls around, though, and Jack’s already got a healthy buzz going. He pulls on a green hoodie and fresh, black jeans over his boxers. He slides up his sleeves because it’s April and it’s getting warm. He gets in his dull black car and drives to the next town. He knows the people at this- He’s not sure if it’s a bar or if it’s a club. It’s a bar club, he decides. Anyway, he knows the people at this bar club and they always either send him home in a cab or put him up in the backroom. Jack parks, nods to the bouncer, and heads to the bar. They’re not open yet. The bar club isn’t huge but it’s big enough that James is needed at the door and there are new people every night. Jack’s the only regular. He takes a seat at the bar without looking up as he greets John, the regular bartender. He orders a shot of vodka before John replies and finally looks up from the bar top when it’s been three minutes and he still has no drink.
“Hai,” the tattooed guy says bravely, despite his obvious nervousness. He’s not John. Jack gets up and steps behind the bar to make his own drink.
“Where’s John?” Jack asks in tone that he kind of hopes to be conversational. This boy is pretty. Messy hair, not unlike Jack’s own disheveled self, and snake bites that overwhelm and ruin the innocence in the boys face.
“’E told me ‘o cover.” Jack can hear the accent and he sort of wants to keep the boy talking. He downs his shot, instead, and tosses the glass before pouring himself a Sam Adams from tap. He pulls himself up to sit on the bar. He sips his beer and watches the boy watching him. “Me name’s Oli.”
Jack smiles but it’s barely there. Oli doesn’t see it. “M’Jack,” he mumbles. Oli takes a tentative step closer. He’s only about an inch taller than Jack but with Jack on the bar he’s down by almost a foot. So, Jack has all the control here. “You can’t bartend,” Jack notes calmly, setting his drink down behind him. Oli nods shamefully. Jack knows John had probably found a girl and left with her, leaving Oli to fend for himself. Oli was probably the new guy Jack is pretty sure John mentioned. “Want some help?” Jack feels that he couldn’t sit here all night and watch Oli fret.
“Awe, that’d be grate,” he smiles. It’s genuine and Jack wants to bottle it up, so he can look at whenever he pleases. He brushes Oli’s skinny jean clad thigh with his foot instead. Jack doesn’t know why he’s flirting, or if this even constitutes as flirting. He didn’t feel anything for Oli, pretty Oli. Well, until the boy smiled. Then, he felt something. Something. Oli slid his hips a bit into Jack’s foot. Jack can’t decide what to do next and he doesn’t have too.
James yells, “We’re open!” and streams of people begin filing in excitedly. Jack hops down. He used to love bartending. He had a gig doing so for a bit after the band broke up but he got recognized so often he had to quit. Oli rests his hand on the small of Jack’s back for a moment before going to take orders at the tables. Jack can’t believe how intimate that moment had felt. He was seriously, mentally freaking out but he kept a dull face and tried to enjoy pouring and mixing the slutty people’s drinks. His eyes though, constantly travelled toward Oli. His mind always seemed to know just where to look and he almost always caught the boy’s eye. He looked up, once, Oli was facing away, and Jack felt his stomach drop. Then, he felt worse for feeling bad. He wasn’t supposed to feel, especially about another boy. Jack thinks he actually enjoyed himself a bit over the course of the night. He wanted to flirt with Oli. Oh, how he wanted to flirt. Oli took every chance he got. He smiled softly each time his eyes met Jack's. His hand brushed Jack's every. Single. Time Jack handed him an order. The snap Jack felt in his stomach with every smile, touch, and the occasional wink scared him. He didn't know what it was exactly. He knew he liked it and he knew he liked Oli, at least somewhat. Well, drunken Jack liked Oli. Oli was tall; he had brown eyes, like Alex. His three buttons open, button down shirt revealed the tattoos that, clearly, dropped a lot lower than the last open button. He wasn't wearing makeup but Jack had a feeling he did, on occasion; maybe it was the, what looked to be, natural darkness where the liner would be, maybe Jack just knew.
It's almost last call and Jack is a bit anxious. Oli's winked slyly at Jack every time someone mentions last call and Jack is rather, very anxious to find out why. Well, he kind of knows why but he likes definite and all he's gotten is winks & hand brushes for the last three and a half hours. Jack doesn't think he can take much more of it. James is escorting the few ridiculously drunk people into cabs with the help of the bar owner, Sam. Oli is wiping down the tables while Jack clears up the bar. Oli saunters over behind the bar and barely smiles at Jack. Drunk Jack see's a huge, alluring grin and hooks a finger through one of Oli's belt loops.
James is leading the last straggler out the door as Jack says, "Oliver, let's go home." Oli agrees with Jack all too quickly & lets Jack tug him by the belt loop to his car. Being so tall, Oli is rather quick on his feet and doesn't even trip all the way to the car. Jack, on the other hand is almost always drunk and wasn't that smart on his feet to begin with, so he's stumbles a few times. Oli giggles it off. At least, drunk Jack hears giggles.
"C- Can't wait," Oli mumbles but really growls. Jack opens the back door & falls backwards inside, pulling Oli in after him.
"Don't have to," he whispers against Oli's neck. Oli grinds his hips into Jack as he pulls the door shut with his foot. Jack doesn't even know what he's doing. Oli's on top of him, then his shirt's gone. His pants are unbuttoned and Oli's still grinding into him. Jack tries to moan but it's muffled against Oli's shoulder. Oli. Pretty Oli. His hands have been in Jack's hair this whole time, his hips doing all the work while his lips nipped and nibbled all over Jack's neck. Jack sort of bucks his hips in an attempt to press Oli closer. Oli finally pulls a hand out of Jack's hair and slowly walks it down Jack's sides and over his hips. Jack lowers his hips and lets Oli do as he pleases.
-!-
Jack's going to meet Oli's parents. Oli just told him that. Not as Oli's boyfriend or whatever. Just, he's going to Oli's parent’s house, eating dinner there, where his family will be. Jack's too buzzed at the moment to care.
"You should probably sober up for the occasion," Oli whispered against Jack's shoulder. Jack's eyes open fully for the first time in hours.
Jack scoffs, "I should what?"
"My dad, he- He's like a human breathalyzer." Jack wants to laugh but he can't seem to make himself do so. "I'm serious," Oli adds to Jack's silence.
"Fine," Jack groans and rolls off the couch onto the floor in a rather ninja like move, if he may say so himself. Oli's lucky he's pretty or else Jack wouldn't be doing this. He's also not too terrible in bed, at least, Drunk Jack thinks so.
-!-
-!-
Jack's sober. He's spent the last eighteen hours in hell because he told Oli he would be sober. So, he is. He's just knocked on the door and it's now being opened. The man is the same height as Jack, his hair is messy and greasy, and he even has tattoos up his neck. Jack wonders who the hell this is. Is this really his father? His eyes search blankly over the tattoos. This cannot be Oli's dad. This guy is too young. He looks to be a coupe years older than Jack. Then, it hits him. This is fucking Oliver Sykes. The one Jack's been banging at spontaneous intervals for the last three weeks, the one that made Jack feel. Well, he made drunken Jack feel. Sober Jack, however, was wondering what he'd even seen in this boy.
"Jack?" Real Oli whispers. Jack shakes his head to clear his thoughts momentarily.
"S- Sorry, spaced out." He can't back out. He told Oli he would do this. Well, drunk Jack told pretty Oli he would do this. Now, sober Jack has to deal with real Oli for the rest of the night.
"Come in, mate." Oli smiles and Jack sort of feels sick. He wonders, again, what the hell he had been thinking. Oli is not the type of boy Jack likes. He has tattoos, for Christ's sake! Alex had, like, two and Jack didn't even like those. Of course, Jack compares everyone to Alex. This Oli, real Oli, has a rough jaw line and sharp, almost hateful, eyes. His hair is too straight and rather thick. His skinny jeans are fucking sagging. Jack wants to pull up the boys pants and tighten the belt. Skinny jeans are not meant to sag.
"I- I should-" Jack wants to get out of this but stops himself. Drunk Jack said he would, so he has to.
"-me dad, that's me mum, and this," Oli grips Jacks wrist and tugs him towards the door. They emerge into a living room and Jack sees a boy bent over an ash tray, camera in hand. Jack's intrigued. Fast. The boy is not Oli. He hardly looks related and Jack is interested. "This is Tom; me 'Lil mate," Oli smiles genuinely but Jack doesn't see it. His eyes are locked on Tom's. Tom is younger, maybe by three years, but Jack doesn't care. Drunk Jack's younger than pretty Oli by two years and that was working, until sober Jack saw real Oli. Now, Tom's here. Gorgeous Tom.
"H- Hey," Tom stutters and his accent is nearly indistinguishable but Jack loves it all the same. Jack smiles encouragingly. He feels bad because Tom seems nervous and Jack's making him that way. Tom smiles back and Jack wants to pounce on him right there. Really, he just wants to hug him and hold him and really just do anything to make him smile for the rest of his life. Then, real Oli slides his hands in Jack's back pocket & he's snapped back to here & now. Jack guesses Oli's parents are no longer behind him. Tom's face turns nervous again as he sees what Oli's doing. Jack nearly turns red.
"I- Uh, what are you doing?" He asks Tom as he sidles out of Oli's reach. He lifts the camera as an indication. Duh.
Tom offers a few choice words, "We- we could watch the tele." Jack takes his chance. He hops farther away from Oli and plops onto the couch, patting the spot beside him lightly. Tom seems to relax a little as he takes the seat.
"What do you like to watch?" Jack is not a TV watcher, in the least. He has Fuse on most of the time but it's just noise.
"Cartoons, VH1, Fuel-"
Jack's never heard of Fuel, "What's that?"
"It's, uh, sports; surfing, bikes, snow, and skateboarding. ." gorgeous Tom trails off.
"Sounds sick," Jack smiles at the boy, hoping for another smile back. He gets a smaller one; no teeth, barely lifted corners. Jack loves the smile, still, because it reaches Tom's eyes. They lighten when he smiles and that only makes Jack notice that amazing blue even more.
"Dinner's almost ready," Oli grumbles as he perches on the arm of couch beside Jack.
"Great," Tom smiles at his brother and Oli doesn't return it. Gorgeous Tom. Jack knows why. Oli can tell. He can tell Jack would rather be with Tom. He can tell. They sat watching the other Tom Sykes on his number sixty-six motorcycle. Jack could feel Oli tensing beside him as each minute passed.
Oli could finally no longer stand the tension, "Ja- Jack, can I have a chat wif 'ou?" Jack looked up expectantly. "Upstairs," He added softly.
"Uh, sure," Jack said, after casting an apologetic glance at Tom.
"I'll be fine," Tom said. Jack heard it as reassuring; Oli heard it as sarcastic. Both smiled back at him before Oli linked his ring finger with Jack's & tugged him upstairs. They entered an office like room.
"Oli, I'm-"
"Jack, it's aight, innit?" Oli cut Jack's apology off.
"Wh- what?"
"I know 'ou like Tom. Yo- 'Ou like him."
"Oli, it's just . . . Drunk Jack liked you. A lot. But me, I just d- don't?"
"I get it, Jack," Oli spoke quickly, he didn't really want to hear this.
"You're great," Jack whispered. He felt terrible, sort of.
"'Ou can still stay for dinner," Oli smiled kindly. "Tommy seems like he 'ikes 'ou too." Jack blushed instantly. Oli pretended to ignore it & led Jack out of the room and back down to the living room. He sort of pushed Jack towards Tom & took a seat in a chair across the room. Tom looked from Jack to Oli curiously, but then Jack smiled softly & Oli gave Tom a little nod. He resumed watching the television. Jack couldn't help but notice Tom's empty hand resting very, very close to his own thigh. He desperately wanted to reach out & hold it but resisted, in case a parent came in.
"Oh, bollocks!" Oli's mom shouted in exasperation from the kitchen.
"I, uh- I think I'll go help mum in the kitchen," Oli smiled and pulled himself out of the chair.
Jack was just getting up the courage to move his hand over when Oli's mom trilled from the kitchen, "Supper's ready."
Jack followed Tom's lead into the small dining area and took a seat beside Oli, as per their mothers request, and across from Tom. Gorgeous Tom. He actually liked the seat because he could see Tom easily this way.
"So, Jack." As Oli's father spoke to him a rather fatherly way Jack wondered why Oli had even brought him here. He'd only known the boy a few weeks, after all. The thoughts were shaken away as Tom looked up, awaiting Jack's answer to the question he hadn't heard.
"I, uh- Sorry, what, sir?"
"What do you do? For a living."
"Oh," Jack blushed. He hated telling this story. "I- I was in band. A couple years ago."
"Really?" Tom asked softly. Gorgeous Tom. Jack turned to him & had to smile at the innocent face. He nodded.
"So, you don't work?" Oli's father was talking again.
"I don't need to," Jack rephrased.
"He bar tends. Sometimes." Oli smiled at Jack and he smiled back politely.
"So you drink?" Tom's face wrinkled a tad in disgust at his father's words. Jack took it that Tom didn't like drinkers.
Jack wasn't sure how to respond really. Just learning that Tom didn't like drinkers made him want to stay sober until he's on his deathbed. Oli saved him with a warningly, "Dad."
Dinner actually passed quickly after that. Jack returned to the living room with Oli and Tom while their Dad cleaned up. Their mother joined them moments later and Jack felt kind of stupid watching cartoons with a real adult. After another bit of time passed, Jack was starting to feel content just sitting, sitting between Tom and Oli. It was nice; the being next to gorgeous Tom, not real Oli. Their parents went to bed at the end of the episode and encouraged Oli and Jack to stay. Hang out with Tom. They did. Sort of.
Oli waited until he knew his parents were at least almost asleep. He got up, shook Jack's hand, and hugged his brother before leaving silently. Jack almost wanted to laugh after the relief he felt once Oli was gone. He felt perfectly comfortable around Tom. Having Oli there, though, felt awkward and wrong. Even if Oli had said it was okay and that he understood.
"Come on," Tom urged quietly once Oli's car had left. Gorgeous Tom. He laced his hand with Jack's casually and pulled the boy down a back hall. Jack was sort of relieved because the parent's bedroom was upstairs. Then, he remembers he's sober. Jack never, ever feels good sober. Real Oli hadn't helped that. Tom did though. He made Jack feel.
Tom's shyness seems to have disappeared. He shuts the door with his foot while he gently pushes Jack father into the small room. Tom's eyes were hungry and not for food. Jack knew that thought was corny and cliché but it was what sprang to mind when his eyes locked on Tom's. He would of looked away but he couldn't and really didn't want to. Tom stepped forward and sort of pressed his body into Jack's. Jack brought his empty hand around to the small of Tom's back and actually pulled him closer. Tom was shorter. A lot shorter than Jack's six feet, two inches. He bent over enough, so his lips were hovering just above Tom's. Gorgeous Tommy. Jack was not comfortable standing this way and was definitely not because of the perfect boy in front of him. Jack took a few steps back, much to Tom's disappointment. Though, he kept his hand linked with Tom's. He looked around the room quickly & tugged Tom towards the dresser.
"Up," Jack smiled. Tom obliged and climbed upon the dresser. He sat down and re-laced his hand with Jack's as Jack moved to stand between Tom's legs. That was better. Jack was comfortable and, now, Tom even had control.
"It's okay?" Tom breathed. He didn't know how Oli felt, though he had a good idea. Jack nodded pleadingly and Tom pressed his lips to Jack's. He was soft and slow. His lips opened and closed with each of Jack's breath while Jack's still free hand moved to the nape of Tom's neck and pulled him, if possible, even closer.
He pulls away to whisper a secret he doesn't feel safe telling, "You make me want to stay here forever."
Tom's breath are quick and excited, but he replies, "You should," he presses his lips to Jack's. "Stay." Again. "With me." Longer this time. "Forever." Jack smiles into this kiss and decides he will. Stay. With Tom. Forever.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sure
Jack drinks. He doesn't do it for the numbness - he already has that - or the high. He drinks for the hangovers. Jack’s been numb or, for lack of a better word, empty for a while. Alex left him a while ago - a year ago tomorrow, actually. Not that Jack’s counting or anything - and he’s been unable to really feel since then. Food tastes rubbery, music and TV are pointless, fire whiskey hardly burns anymore; he just doesn’t feel.
He almost always has a Jack & Coke for breakfast. The irony befalls Jack because it used to be a joke between Alex and him. Now, it’s a painful memory and a quick shot before he goes to the living room. He doesn’t work. The band had made so much when they were big - two years ago was the downfall - that he didn’t have to. Jack always gets up by noon. He turns on Fuse but doesn’t watch and barely listens. He’s only waiting for five. Jack tries to retain some form of dignity not having anymore than Jack Daniels until after five o’clock.
On Saturdays Jack restocks. He drives to the Kick - used to be Quick until an illiterate immigrant bought it - Mart that sits between his and the next neighborhood. Jack’s day life is pretty depressing.
Ten o’clock rolls around, though, and Jack’s already got a healthy buzz going. He pulls on a green hoodie and fresh, black jeans over his boxers. He slides up his sleeves because it’s April and it’s getting warm. He gets in his dull black car and drives to the next town. He knows the people at this- He’s not sure if it’s a bar or if it’s a club. It’s a bar club, he decides. Anyway, he knows the people at this bar club and they always either send him home in a cab or put him up in the backroom. Jack parks, nods to the bouncer, and heads to the bar. They’re not open yet. The bar club isn’t huge but it’s big enough that James is needed at the door and there are new people every night. Jack’s the only regular. He takes a seat at the bar without looking up as he greets John, the regular bartender. He orders a shot of vodka before John replies and finally looks up from the bar top when it’s been three minutes and he still has no drink.
“Hai,” the tattooed guy says bravely, despite his obvious nervousness. He’s not John. Jack gets up and steps behind the bar to make his own drink.
“Where’s John?” Jack asks in tone that he kind of hopes to be conversational. This boy is pretty. Messy hair, not unlike Jack’s own disheveled self, and snake bites that overwhelm and ruin the innocence in the boys face.
“’E told me ‘o cover.” Jack can hear the accent and he sort of wants to keep the boy talking. He downs his shot, instead, and tosses the glass before pouring himself a Sam Adams from tap. He pulls himself up to sit on the bar. He sips his beer and watches the boy watching him. “Me name’s Oli.”
Jack smiles but it’s barely there. Oli doesn’t see it. “M’Jack,” he mumbles. Oli takes a tentative step closer. He’s only about an inch taller than Jack but with Jack on the bar he’s down by almost a foot. So, Jack has all the control here. “You can’t bartend,” Jack notes calmly, setting his drink down behind him. Oli nods shamefully. Jack knows John had probably found a girl and left with her, leaving Oli to fend for himself. Oli was probably the new guy Jack is pretty sure John mentioned. “Want some help?” Jack feels that he couldn’t sit here all night and watch Oli fret.
“Awe, that’d be grate,” he smiles. It’s genuine and Jack wants to bottle it up, so he can look at whenever he pleases. He brushes Oli’s skinny jean clad thigh with his foot instead. Jack doesn’t know why he’s flirting, or if this even constitutes as flirting. He didn’t feel anything for Oli, pretty Oli. Well, until the boy smiled. Then, he felt something. Something. Oli slid his hips a bit into Jack’s foot. Jack can’t decide what to do next and he doesn’t have too.
James yells, “We’re open!” and streams of people begin filing in excitedly. Jack hops down. He used to love bartending. He had a gig doing so for a bit after the band broke up but he got recognized so often he had to quit. Oli rests his hand on the small of Jack’s back for a moment before going to take orders at the tables. Jack can’t believe how intimate that moment had felt. He was seriously, mentally freaking out but he kept a dull face and tried to enjoy pouring and mixing the slutty people’s drinks. His eyes though, constantly travelled toward Oli. His mind always seemed to know just where to look and he almost always caught the boy’s eye. He looked up, once, Oli was facing away, and Jack felt his stomach drop. Then, he felt worse for feeling bad. He wasn’t supposed to feel, especially about another boy. Jack thinks he actually enjoyed himself a bit over the course of the night. He wanted to flirt with Oli. Oh, how he wanted to flirt. Oli took every chance he got. He smiled softly each time his eyes met Jack's. His hand brushed Jack's every. Single. Time Jack handed him an order. The snap Jack felt in his stomach with every smile, touch, and the occasional wink scared him. He didn't know what it was exactly. He knew he liked it and he knew he liked Oli, at least somewhat. Well, drunken Jack liked Oli. Oli was tall; he had brown eyes, like Alex. His three buttons open, button down shirt revealed the tattoos that, clearly, dropped a lot lower than the last open button. He wasn't wearing makeup but Jack had a feeling he did, on occasion; maybe it was the, what looked to be, natural darkness where the liner would be, maybe Jack just knew.
It's almost last call and Jack is a bit anxious. Oli's winked slyly at Jack every time someone mentions last call and Jack is rather, very anxious to find out why. Well, he kind of knows why but he likes definite and all he's gotten is winks & hand brushes for the last three and a half hours. Jack doesn't think he can take much more of it. James is escorting the few ridiculously drunk people into cabs with the help of the bar owner, Sam. Oli is wiping down the tables while Jack clears up the bar. Oli saunters over behind the bar and barely smiles at Jack. Drunk Jack see's a huge, alluring grin and hooks a finger through one of Oli's belt loops.
James is leading the last straggler out the door as Jack says, "Oliver, let's go home." Oli agrees with Jack all too quickly & lets Jack tug him by the belt loop to his car. Being so tall, Oli is rather quick on his feet and doesn't even trip all the way to the car. Jack, on the other hand is almost always drunk and wasn't that smart on his feet to begin with, so he's stumbles a few times. Oli giggles it off. At least, drunk Jack hears giggles.
"C- Can't wait," Oli mumbles but really growls. Jack opens the back door & falls backwards inside, pulling Oli in after him.
"Don't have to," he whispers against Oli's neck. Oli grinds his hips into Jack as he pulls the door shut with his foot. Jack doesn't even know what he's doing. Oli's on top of him, then his shirt's gone. His pants are unbuttoned and Oli's still grinding into him. Jack tries to moan but it's muffled against Oli's shoulder. Oli. Pretty Oli. His hands have been in Jack's hair this whole time, his hips doing all the work while his lips nipped and nibbled all over Jack's neck. Jack sort of bucks his hips in an attempt to press Oli closer. Oli finally pulls a hand out of Jack's hair and slowly walks it down Jack's sides and over his hips. Jack lowers his hips and lets Oli do as he pleases.
-!-
Jack's going to meet Oli's parents. Oli just told him that. Not as Oli's boyfriend or whatever. Just, he's going to Oli's parent’s house, eating dinner there, where his family will be. Jack's too buzzed at the moment to care.
"You should probably sober up for the occasion," Oli whispered against Jack's shoulder. Jack's eyes open fully for the first time in hours.
Jack scoffs, "I should what?"
"My dad, he- He's like a human breathalyzer." Jack wants to laugh but he can't seem to make himself do so. "I'm serious," Oli adds to Jack's silence.
"Fine," Jack groans and rolls off the couch onto the floor in a rather ninja like move, if he may say so himself. Oli's lucky he's pretty or else Jack wouldn't be doing this. He's also not too terrible in bed, at least, Drunk Jack thinks so.
-!-
-!-
Jack's sober. He's spent the last eighteen hours in hell because he told Oli he would be sober. So, he is. He's just knocked on the door and it's now being opened. The man is the same height as Jack, his hair is messy and greasy, and he even has tattoos up his neck. Jack wonders who the hell this is. Is this really his father? His eyes search blankly over the tattoos. This cannot be Oli's dad. This guy is too young. He looks to be a coupe years older than Jack. Then, it hits him. This is fucking Oliver Sykes. The one Jack's been banging at spontaneous intervals for the last three weeks, the one that made Jack feel. Well, he made drunken Jack feel. Sober Jack, however, was wondering what he'd even seen in this boy.
"Jack?" Real Oli whispers. Jack shakes his head to clear his thoughts momentarily.
"S- Sorry, spaced out." He can't back out. He told Oli he would do this. Well, drunk Jack told pretty Oli he would do this. Now, sober Jack has to deal with real Oli for the rest of the night.
"Come in, mate." Oli smiles and Jack sort of feels sick. He wonders, again, what the hell he had been thinking. Oli is not the type of boy Jack likes. He has tattoos, for Christ's sake! Alex had, like, two and Jack didn't even like those. Of course, Jack compares everyone to Alex. This Oli, real Oli, has a rough jaw line and sharp, almost hateful, eyes. His hair is too straight and rather thick. His skinny jeans are fucking sagging. Jack wants to pull up the boys pants and tighten the belt. Skinny jeans are not meant to sag.
"I- I should-" Jack wants to get out of this but stops himself. Drunk Jack said he would, so he has to.
"-me dad, that's me mum, and this," Oli grips Jacks wrist and tugs him towards the door. They emerge into a living room and Jack sees a boy bent over an ash tray, camera in hand. Jack's intrigued. Fast. The boy is not Oli. He hardly looks related and Jack is interested. "This is Tom; me 'Lil mate," Oli smiles genuinely but Jack doesn't see it. His eyes are locked on Tom's. Tom is younger, maybe by three years, but Jack doesn't care. Drunk Jack's younger than pretty Oli by two years and that was working, until sober Jack saw real Oli. Now, Tom's here. Gorgeous Tom.
"H- Hey," Tom stutters and his accent is nearly indistinguishable but Jack loves it all the same. Jack smiles encouragingly. He feels bad because Tom seems nervous and Jack's making him that way. Tom smiles back and Jack wants to pounce on him right there. Really, he just wants to hug him and hold him and really just do anything to make him smile for the rest of his life. Then, real Oli slides his hands in Jack's back pocket & he's snapped back to here & now. Jack guesses Oli's parents are no longer behind him. Tom's face turns nervous again as he sees what Oli's doing. Jack nearly turns red.
"I- Uh, what are you doing?" He asks Tom as he sidles out of Oli's reach. He lifts the camera as an indication. Duh.
Tom offers a few choice words, "We- we could watch the tele." Jack takes his chance. He hops farther away from Oli and plops onto the couch, patting the spot beside him lightly. Tom seems to relax a little as he takes the seat.
"What do you like to watch?" Jack is not a TV watcher, in the least. He has Fuse on most of the time but it's just noise.
"Cartoons, VH1, Fuel-"
Jack's never heard of Fuel, "What's that?"
"It's, uh, sports; surfing, bikes, snow, and skateboarding. ." gorgeous Tom trails off.
"Sounds sick," Jack smiles at the boy, hoping for another smile back. He gets a smaller one; no teeth, barely lifted corners. Jack loves the smile, still, because it reaches Tom's eyes. They lighten when he smiles and that only makes Jack notice that amazing blue even more.
"Dinner's almost ready," Oli grumbles as he perches on the arm of couch beside Jack.
"Great," Tom smiles at his brother and Oli doesn't return it. Gorgeous Tom. Jack knows why. Oli can tell. He can tell Jack would rather be with Tom. He can tell. They sat watching the other Tom Sykes on his number sixty-six motorcycle. Jack could feel Oli tensing beside him as each minute passed.
Oli could finally no longer stand the tension, "Ja- Jack, can I have a chat wif 'ou?" Jack looked up expectantly. "Upstairs," He added softly.
"Uh, sure," Jack said, after casting an apologetic glance at Tom.
"I'll be fine," Tom said. Jack heard it as reassuring; Oli heard it as sarcastic. Both smiled back at him before Oli linked his ring finger with Jack's & tugged him upstairs. They entered an office like room.
"Oli, I'm-"
"Jack, it's aight, innit?" Oli cut Jack's apology off.
"Wh- what?"
"I know 'ou like Tom. Yo- 'Ou like him."
"Oli, it's just . . . Drunk Jack liked you. A lot. But me, I just d- don't?"
"I get it, Jack," Oli spoke quickly, he didn't really want to hear this.
"You're great," Jack whispered. He felt terrible, sort of.
"'Ou can still stay for dinner," Oli smiled kindly. "Tommy seems like he 'ikes 'ou too." Jack blushed instantly. Oli pretended to ignore it & led Jack out of the room and back down to the living room. He sort of pushed Jack towards Tom & took a seat in a chair across the room. Tom looked from Jack to Oli curiously, but then Jack smiled softly & Oli gave Tom a little nod. He resumed watching the television. Jack couldn't help but notice Tom's empty hand resting very, very close to his own thigh. He desperately wanted to reach out & hold it but resisted, in case a parent came in.
"Oh, bollocks!" Oli's mom shouted in exasperation from the kitchen.
"I, uh- I think I'll go help mum in the kitchen," Oli smiled and pulled himself out of the chair.
Jack was just getting up the courage to move his hand over when Oli's mom trilled from the kitchen, "Supper's ready."
Jack followed Tom's lead into the small dining area and took a seat beside Oli, as per their mothers request, and across from Tom. Gorgeous Tom. He actually liked the seat because he could see Tom easily this way.
"So, Jack." As Oli's father spoke to him a rather fatherly way Jack wondered why Oli had even brought him here. He'd only known the boy a few weeks, after all. The thoughts were shaken away as Tom looked up, awaiting Jack's answer to the question he hadn't heard.
"I, uh- Sorry, what, sir?"
"What do you do? For a living."
"Oh," Jack blushed. He hated telling this story. "I- I was in band. A couple years ago."
"Really?" Tom asked softly. Gorgeous Tom. Jack turned to him & had to smile at the innocent face. He nodded.
"So, you don't work?" Oli's father was talking again.
"I don't need to," Jack rephrased.
"He bar tends. Sometimes." Oli smiled at Jack and he smiled back politely.
"So you drink?" Tom's face wrinkled a tad in disgust at his father's words. Jack took it that Tom didn't like drinkers.
Jack wasn't sure how to respond really. Just learning that Tom didn't like drinkers made him want to stay sober until he's on his deathbed. Oli saved him with a warningly, "Dad."
Dinner actually passed quickly after that. Jack returned to the living room with Oli and Tom while their Dad cleaned up. Their mother joined them moments later and Jack felt kind of stupid watching cartoons with a real adult. After another bit of time passed, Jack was starting to feel content just sitting, sitting between Tom and Oli. It was nice; the being next to gorgeous Tom, not real Oli. Their parents went to bed at the end of the episode and encouraged Oli and Jack to stay. Hang out with Tom. They did. Sort of.
Oli waited until he knew his parents were at least almost asleep. He got up, shook Jack's hand, and hugged his brother before leaving silently. Jack almost wanted to laugh after the relief he felt once Oli was gone. He felt perfectly comfortable around Tom. Having Oli there, though, felt awkward and wrong. Even if Oli had said it was okay and that he understood.
"Come on," Tom urged quietly once Oli's car had left. Gorgeous Tom. He laced his hand with Jack's casually and pulled the boy down a back hall. Jack was sort of relieved because the parent's bedroom was upstairs. Then, he remembers he's sober. Jack never, ever feels good sober. Real Oli hadn't helped that. Tom did though. He made Jack feel.
Tom's shyness seems to have disappeared. He shuts the door with his foot while he gently pushes Jack father into the small room. Tom's eyes were hungry and not for food. Jack knew that thought was corny and cliché but it was what sprang to mind when his eyes locked on Tom's. He would of looked away but he couldn't and really didn't want to. Tom stepped forward and sort of pressed his body into Jack's. Jack brought his empty hand around to the small of Tom's back and actually pulled him closer. Tom was shorter. A lot shorter than Jack's six feet, two inches. He bent over enough, so his lips were hovering just above Tom's. Gorgeous Tommy. Jack was not comfortable standing this way and was definitely not because of the perfect boy in front of him. Jack took a few steps back, much to Tom's disappointment. Though, he kept his hand linked with Tom's. He looked around the room quickly & tugged Tom towards the dresser.
"Up," Jack smiled. Tom obliged and climbed upon the dresser. He sat down and re-laced his hand with Jack's as Jack moved to stand between Tom's legs. That was better. Jack was comfortable and, now, Tom even had control.
"It's okay?" Tom breathed. He didn't know how Oli felt, though he had a good idea. Jack nodded pleadingly and Tom pressed his lips to Jack's. He was soft and slow. His lips opened and closed with each of Jack's breath while Jack's still free hand moved to the nape of Tom's neck and pulled him, if possible, even closer.
He pulls away to whisper a secret he doesn't feel safe telling, "You make me want to stay here forever."
Tom's breath are quick and excited, but he replies, "You should," he presses his lips to Jack's. "Stay." Again. "With me." Longer this time. "Forever." Jack smiles into this kiss and decides he will. Stay. With Tom. Forever.