[fanfiction] no regrets, just love
365 Gay Sharks
Day 40, Word Count: 2151
Theme: February; Voices of the Scorned
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Fandom/Pairings: RPF; Andrew/Jesse
Rating: PG-13
Pre-Notes: For something on the TSN kink meme: "Jesse is asexual (not aromantic though - he does have feelings for Andrew. And genuinely asexual, not with low sex drive from anti-depressants). Andrew is not. They try to work around this." I am pretty sure that the prompter meant, like, an asexual who doesn't want to have sex only I would like people to know that a lot of asexuals are perfectly willing to HAVE sex it just. Like, we don't really get very much out of it besides seeing our partner look fucked out? Sigh, one day I will write ALL OF THE WORDS explaining why you can still be an asexual even if you get laid. Today I wrote you this fic instead. 1st_eggokage helped a lot because I got to a certain point where I stopped understanding why Andrew was doing what he was doing and she very helpfully broke it down into small words for me. She is (almost literally) the Andrew to my Jesse. (teh_slush also deserves thanks, for once, and not blame.)
Disclaimer: No. This never happened. Trust me, I'm an asexual and like lesbians, all asexuals know each other. (In other words: I don't really care what Jesse's sexual orientation is, but I'd like it if he were asexual because I want a role model too. :<)
Summary: In which Jesse is asexual but not unwilling to have sex, Andrew is well-meaning but has the wrong idea, and they watch Bambi for the 268097464th time before they have a Discussion about things.
no regrets, just love
Andrew doesn't get it.
The fact that Jesse doesn't really get hot and bothered by Andrew is not a reflection on how much Jesse loves him. He's trying, he really is, it's just. Jesse thinks that Andrew is beautiful, thinks that Andrew hung the moon in the sky, thinks that a person so wonderful as Andrew cannot possibly exist. He just doesn’t look at Andrew and go "man, I want to fuck that boy until my dick turns blue." Like, ever.
It’s not that Jesse doesn’t want to sleep with Andrew, not exactly. He can’t . . . It’s hard to explain. He doesn’t know how to explain that it makes him happy enough to just suck Andrew off, have the taste of him on his tongue. He doesn’t know how to say that if he doesn’t get off it’s okay, he doesn’t really mind. Instead, he curls up next to Andrew and fists his hands in Andrew’s stupid sweatervest.
"I’m sorry," Jesse says.
"Hey, no," Andrew pets at Jesse’s hair, "what are you sorry for, Jess? You haven’t done anything wrong at all."
"I’m sorry for being difficult."
"No," Andrew runs his fingers through Jesse’s hair, fingers getting tangled in it, "Jess, no. I’m the one who’s making this difficult by not understanding."
Andrew tugs on Jesse, fitting their lips together, and it's . . . Okay? Whenever people talk about kissing, they talk about fireworks and sparks and yeah. Jesse's not getting any of that. Mostly he’s getting soft and wet and awkward. It’s his fault, really, but it’s not the worst kiss he’s ever had with someone. He’s gotten used to the awkwardness, still remembers the kiss with the braces and the tongue and yeah. Andrew’s not as bad as that, could never be as bad as that.
Either way, the point is that Jesse’s never wanted to sleep with anyone for purely physical feeling. He’s wanted to sleep with people before, yes, but he wanted to sleep with them in the same what that he wanted to buy them nice things or bake them birthday cakes. It’s just something else to do that will make the person he’s with smile.
"You’re thinking too much," Andrew whispers against his lips, "stop that."
"Sorry," Jesse says, "I can’t shut it off."
He drops his head into the curve where Andrew’s neck melts into his shoulders, and just breathes. He can feel where Andrew is pressing, hard, against his thigh. Andrew sighs and rubs at Jesse’s back before pulling him close. Jesse clings, hating himself and hating the fact that he can’t just shut off his brain and enjoy. Just can’t make his body want it the way everyone else does.
"Right," Andrew sighs again, "this is just frustrating us both. Do you want to watch a movie?"
Jesse hugs Andrew closer, "I’m sorry I suck so much at this, Andrew."
"Look at me, Jess."
Jesse lets go just enough to look at Andrew, who has the same wide, Bambi eyes as he always does. They’re softer now, a little more out of focus because they’re so close together and Jesse’s eyes can’t quite focus.
"Never," Andrew says fiercely, "apologize for who you are. Never, ever think that it’s your fault for making this awkward, because it’s not. Sex is usually awkward, okay?"
Andrew’s eyes never waver from Jesse’s, and Jesse drops his head back down onto Andrew’s shoulder. He breathes again, focusing on Andrew’s fingers rubbing circles onto his back. Andrew smells like laundry detergent and fresh cut grass, or something equally clean, and there’s sweat and musk floating just underneath that too.
It’s nice. Jesse likes it, likes picturing Andrew lying in fresh-cut grass surrounded by flowers. He’d probably like that, Jesse thinks before smiling against Andrew’s shoulder.
"I love you," Jesse mumbles into Andrew’s shoulder.
"I love you too," Andrew laughs, "So much, in fact, that I am going to let you pick the movie."
"Are you sure you don’t want me to, like . . ."
Jesse trails off, letting Andrew fill in the rest of the sentence himself. He sees Andrew consider before shaking his head. Jesse almost wants to try again and explain that it’s okay, he doesn’t mind, but it’ll just make Andrew sigh a lot again so he doesn’t. He just nods.
"Okay. I want to watch Bambi."
"You always want to watch Bambi," Andrew shakes his head, laughing, "I think I’ve seen it more times in the past month than I had seen it period before meeting you.”
"I like Bambi," Jesse mumbles, "I mean, if you were a deer you would look like Bambi."
"Did you just call me a deer? You did, didn’t you."
"No," Jesse frowns, "I said that if you were a deer, you would look like Bambi and then I could be your maligned skunk friend with the silly nickname."
Andrew shakes his head, "I swear that you’re a vegetarian because you watched Bambi at a young, impressionable age."
It’s kind of an old argument, so Jesse doesn’t get angry beyond shoving at Andrew’s shoulder and making him get up to put the DVD in. Andrew does it because he's a fundamentally Nice Person, which is something that scares Jesse sometimes because he tries to be a Nice Person, but then things happen and he just ends up being Biggest Cocktease. Like, he gets that Andrew is a gentleman and wants Jesse to get something out of sex too. He really does get it, even if he doesn't understand it, in the same way that someone can understand that cats need to lick their fur clean and then throw all the hair back up in your shoes, even if they don't understand why.
Not that Andrew wanting Jesse to get something out of sex is as mystifying as why cats always throw up in the exact pair of shoes you want to be wearing, but you know. Whatever, right? The metaphor is still pretty sound. Jesse just wishes that Andrew would understand that maybe he doesn't need to come to get something out of sex?
It's not that Jesse can't, because his body works, it's just. If normal people were remote controls with buttons to press that turn them on, then Andrew would be one of those really easy to use remotes and Jesse would be a really old remote where all the labels have worn off and you need to press a really specific button combination to get anything done only no one remembers the exact combination to use, so you're just Totally Fucked.
And really, just knowing that he put that fucked out and blissful look on Andrew's face, just knowing that Andrew is doing this out of love, is enough for Jesse. He's not sure how to explain any of that in a way that Andrew can understand, though, not sure what words will make everything that's clear in his own head clear to other people. Instead, he settles against Andrew and watches the movie. Like always, he closes his eyes and buries his face in Andrew's side when they kill off Bambi's mom because he can't watch or he'll cry. Like always, Andrew hugs him just a little tighter.
It's dinnertime by the time the movie is over, and Jesse sort of just. Watches Andrew cook. It's nice.
"I still don't see," Jesse says as Andrew flips over whatever he's making, "how it's fair to make you jerk off in the bathroom when I'm perfectly okay with, you know."
"I just," Andrew says without turning from the frying pan, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. I don't want to force you to do anything."
Jesse kind of wants to grab Andrew by the shoulders and shake him, because maybe that will knock some sense into him. He'd probably make Andrew burn whatever he's cooking though, so instead he just fits himself against Andrew's back and wraps his arms around Andrew's waist.
"I just want to do something for you," Jesse says, barely above a whisper, "I like doing things for you."
It sounds kind of whiny and desperate to his own ears, but he suspects Andrew hears it differently because Andrew shivers. Jesse can feel it, knows every point where their bodies are touching. He likes what they have best in moments like this, quiet and meaningful, but he recognizes that if a relationship is only this then sexual people will shrivel and die like flowers that haven't had enough sun. Not watering flowers is cruel, and Jesse might be a lot of things (forgetful, awkward, bad at acting, crybaby, vegetarian, a loser) but he's not cruel. At least, he's not cruel on purpose because there was that one time he stepped on his cat's tail and that was pretty cruel but also an accident.
There's a long silence filled mostly by the sizzling of the tempeh in the pan (and seriously, Jesse hadn't even known what the fuck tempeh was before Andrew). Andrew is fixated on the frying pan, and Jesse just watches. He's not sure what to do and he thinks it's Andrew's turn to make a move anyway.
"Why? You don't get anything out of it," Andrew says finally, "and sex is about the sensation of it all, the way it makes you feel. It's not really worth it otherwise."
"It's mean to not have sex with you," Jesse drops his head onto Andrew's shoulder, "and it's not like I can't have sex. I just don't particularly want to."
Andrew sighs, "That's my point! I don't want to have sex with you if you don't want to."
"That's not what I mean, Andrew."
"Then tell me what you do mean," Andrew says quietly, moving the tempeh out of the pan and onto a plate, "because I honestly don't understand."
Jesse drops his forehead against Andrew's shoulder. Trying to explain what he is is like trying to find words for the way that water is wet. He knows without doubt what he feels, but the moment he tries to quantify it? The words are wrong and nothing seems right.
Water is wet to create friction. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because there's no reason not to. Water is wet because of the way water molecules interact with skin. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he trusts Andrew. Water is wet because it is a liquid. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because it's unfair to Andrew otherwise and he doesn't really mind having it. Water is wet because it is a solvent. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he wants to buy Andrew nice things. Water is wet because that is the nature of water, and if it were not wet then it would no longer be water. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he is willing to compromise and that is the nature of love.
If he wasn't willing to compromise, then it wouldn't be love. It wouldn't be better by far than a metaphor, it wouldn't be a many-splendored thing, it wouldn't be a way to measure life.
"I want to do this for you because I love you," Jesse finally whispers, "Why do I need any reason besides that?"
"Oh, Jess. Jesse."
Andrew is twisting in Jesse's grip, turning to frame Jesse's face with soft fingers. He kisses Jesse like Jesse will cease to exist if they break apart, like if he lets go this moment will fade away like dust on wind, and Jesse can sort of see the appeal kissing might have. It's nice to be the sole focus of someone's attention, if a little overwhelming, and Jesse has to pull away. Has to try and make his lungs remember how to breathe.
Inhale, exhale. Take in oxygen, let out carbon dioxide.
Their foreheads are touching, and Andrew's eyes really do make him look like some sort of fantastic, unreal wildlife creature that close up. Andrew's lips are parted slightly, and he seems to be having just as much trouble breathing as Jesse is. Their breathing matches, and Jesse kind of likes that.
"I still don't really get it," Andrew confesses, "but I think that's okay. Promise me something, though."
"Anything."
"If you ever really don't want to do something, or you feel uncomfortable, or whatever. If you ever want to stop, just tell me. Don't make yourself miserable for my sake, okay?"
"I'll try not to," Jesse says, "but I can't really promise."
Andrew laughs, "Okay. That's good enough for me."
----
Postit-Notes: I have been assured that this is not terrible, so I am posting it now because if I don't post it now I will lose my nerve. (I didn't just pick the title at random, by the way. It's a reference to this.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D
Day 40, Word Count: 2151
Theme: February; Voices of the Scorned
This post is part of the 365 Gay Sharks project. If you would like to learn more about this project, click here to read more about it. :D
Fandom/Pairings: RPF; Andrew/Jesse
Rating: PG-13
Pre-Notes: For something on the TSN kink meme: "Jesse is asexual (not aromantic though - he does have feelings for Andrew. And genuinely asexual, not with low sex drive from anti-depressants). Andrew is not. They try to work around this." I am pretty sure that the prompter meant, like, an asexual who doesn't want to have sex only I would like people to know that a lot of asexuals are perfectly willing to HAVE sex it just. Like, we don't really get very much out of it besides seeing our partner look fucked out? Sigh, one day I will write ALL OF THE WORDS explaining why you can still be an asexual even if you get laid. Today I wrote you this fic instead. 1st_eggokage helped a lot because I got to a certain point where I stopped understanding why Andrew was doing what he was doing and she very helpfully broke it down into small words for me. She is (almost literally) the Andrew to my Jesse. (teh_slush also deserves thanks, for once, and not blame.)
Disclaimer: No. This never happened. Trust me, I'm an asexual and like lesbians, all asexuals know each other. (In other words: I don't really care what Jesse's sexual orientation is, but I'd like it if he were asexual because I want a role model too. :<)
Summary: In which Jesse is asexual but not unwilling to have sex, Andrew is well-meaning but has the wrong idea, and they watch Bambi for the 268097464th time before they have a Discussion about things.
no regrets, just love
Andrew doesn't get it.
The fact that Jesse doesn't really get hot and bothered by Andrew is not a reflection on how much Jesse loves him. He's trying, he really is, it's just. Jesse thinks that Andrew is beautiful, thinks that Andrew hung the moon in the sky, thinks that a person so wonderful as Andrew cannot possibly exist. He just doesn’t look at Andrew and go "man, I want to fuck that boy until my dick turns blue." Like, ever.
It’s not that Jesse doesn’t want to sleep with Andrew, not exactly. He can’t . . . It’s hard to explain. He doesn’t know how to explain that it makes him happy enough to just suck Andrew off, have the taste of him on his tongue. He doesn’t know how to say that if he doesn’t get off it’s okay, he doesn’t really mind. Instead, he curls up next to Andrew and fists his hands in Andrew’s stupid sweatervest.
"I’m sorry," Jesse says.
"Hey, no," Andrew pets at Jesse’s hair, "what are you sorry for, Jess? You haven’t done anything wrong at all."
"I’m sorry for being difficult."
"No," Andrew runs his fingers through Jesse’s hair, fingers getting tangled in it, "Jess, no. I’m the one who’s making this difficult by not understanding."
Andrew tugs on Jesse, fitting their lips together, and it's . . . Okay? Whenever people talk about kissing, they talk about fireworks and sparks and yeah. Jesse's not getting any of that. Mostly he’s getting soft and wet and awkward. It’s his fault, really, but it’s not the worst kiss he’s ever had with someone. He’s gotten used to the awkwardness, still remembers the kiss with the braces and the tongue and yeah. Andrew’s not as bad as that, could never be as bad as that.
Either way, the point is that Jesse’s never wanted to sleep with anyone for purely physical feeling. He’s wanted to sleep with people before, yes, but he wanted to sleep with them in the same what that he wanted to buy them nice things or bake them birthday cakes. It’s just something else to do that will make the person he’s with smile.
"You’re thinking too much," Andrew whispers against his lips, "stop that."
"Sorry," Jesse says, "I can’t shut it off."
He drops his head into the curve where Andrew’s neck melts into his shoulders, and just breathes. He can feel where Andrew is pressing, hard, against his thigh. Andrew sighs and rubs at Jesse’s back before pulling him close. Jesse clings, hating himself and hating the fact that he can’t just shut off his brain and enjoy. Just can’t make his body want it the way everyone else does.
"Right," Andrew sighs again, "this is just frustrating us both. Do you want to watch a movie?"
Jesse hugs Andrew closer, "I’m sorry I suck so much at this, Andrew."
"Look at me, Jess."
Jesse lets go just enough to look at Andrew, who has the same wide, Bambi eyes as he always does. They’re softer now, a little more out of focus because they’re so close together and Jesse’s eyes can’t quite focus.
"Never," Andrew says fiercely, "apologize for who you are. Never, ever think that it’s your fault for making this awkward, because it’s not. Sex is usually awkward, okay?"
Andrew’s eyes never waver from Jesse’s, and Jesse drops his head back down onto Andrew’s shoulder. He breathes again, focusing on Andrew’s fingers rubbing circles onto his back. Andrew smells like laundry detergent and fresh cut grass, or something equally clean, and there’s sweat and musk floating just underneath that too.
It’s nice. Jesse likes it, likes picturing Andrew lying in fresh-cut grass surrounded by flowers. He’d probably like that, Jesse thinks before smiling against Andrew’s shoulder.
"I love you," Jesse mumbles into Andrew’s shoulder.
"I love you too," Andrew laughs, "So much, in fact, that I am going to let you pick the movie."
"Are you sure you don’t want me to, like . . ."
Jesse trails off, letting Andrew fill in the rest of the sentence himself. He sees Andrew consider before shaking his head. Jesse almost wants to try again and explain that it’s okay, he doesn’t mind, but it’ll just make Andrew sigh a lot again so he doesn’t. He just nods.
"Okay. I want to watch Bambi."
"You always want to watch Bambi," Andrew shakes his head, laughing, "I think I’ve seen it more times in the past month than I had seen it period before meeting you.”
"I like Bambi," Jesse mumbles, "I mean, if you were a deer you would look like Bambi."
"Did you just call me a deer? You did, didn’t you."
"No," Jesse frowns, "I said that if you were a deer, you would look like Bambi and then I could be your maligned skunk friend with the silly nickname."
Andrew shakes his head, "I swear that you’re a vegetarian because you watched Bambi at a young, impressionable age."
It’s kind of an old argument, so Jesse doesn’t get angry beyond shoving at Andrew’s shoulder and making him get up to put the DVD in. Andrew does it because he's a fundamentally Nice Person, which is something that scares Jesse sometimes because he tries to be a Nice Person, but then things happen and he just ends up being Biggest Cocktease. Like, he gets that Andrew is a gentleman and wants Jesse to get something out of sex too. He really does get it, even if he doesn't understand it, in the same way that someone can understand that cats need to lick their fur clean and then throw all the hair back up in your shoes, even if they don't understand why.
Not that Andrew wanting Jesse to get something out of sex is as mystifying as why cats always throw up in the exact pair of shoes you want to be wearing, but you know. Whatever, right? The metaphor is still pretty sound. Jesse just wishes that Andrew would understand that maybe he doesn't need to come to get something out of sex?
It's not that Jesse can't, because his body works, it's just. If normal people were remote controls with buttons to press that turn them on, then Andrew would be one of those really easy to use remotes and Jesse would be a really old remote where all the labels have worn off and you need to press a really specific button combination to get anything done only no one remembers the exact combination to use, so you're just Totally Fucked.
And really, just knowing that he put that fucked out and blissful look on Andrew's face, just knowing that Andrew is doing this out of love, is enough for Jesse. He's not sure how to explain any of that in a way that Andrew can understand, though, not sure what words will make everything that's clear in his own head clear to other people. Instead, he settles against Andrew and watches the movie. Like always, he closes his eyes and buries his face in Andrew's side when they kill off Bambi's mom because he can't watch or he'll cry. Like always, Andrew hugs him just a little tighter.
It's dinnertime by the time the movie is over, and Jesse sort of just. Watches Andrew cook. It's nice.
"I still don't see," Jesse says as Andrew flips over whatever he's making, "how it's fair to make you jerk off in the bathroom when I'm perfectly okay with, you know."
"I just," Andrew says without turning from the frying pan, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. I don't want to force you to do anything."
Jesse kind of wants to grab Andrew by the shoulders and shake him, because maybe that will knock some sense into him. He'd probably make Andrew burn whatever he's cooking though, so instead he just fits himself against Andrew's back and wraps his arms around Andrew's waist.
"I just want to do something for you," Jesse says, barely above a whisper, "I like doing things for you."
It sounds kind of whiny and desperate to his own ears, but he suspects Andrew hears it differently because Andrew shivers. Jesse can feel it, knows every point where their bodies are touching. He likes what they have best in moments like this, quiet and meaningful, but he recognizes that if a relationship is only this then sexual people will shrivel and die like flowers that haven't had enough sun. Not watering flowers is cruel, and Jesse might be a lot of things (forgetful, awkward, bad at acting, crybaby, vegetarian, a loser) but he's not cruel. At least, he's not cruel on purpose because there was that one time he stepped on his cat's tail and that was pretty cruel but also an accident.
There's a long silence filled mostly by the sizzling of the tempeh in the pan (and seriously, Jesse hadn't even known what the fuck tempeh was before Andrew). Andrew is fixated on the frying pan, and Jesse just watches. He's not sure what to do and he thinks it's Andrew's turn to make a move anyway.
"Why? You don't get anything out of it," Andrew says finally, "and sex is about the sensation of it all, the way it makes you feel. It's not really worth it otherwise."
"It's mean to not have sex with you," Jesse drops his head onto Andrew's shoulder, "and it's not like I can't have sex. I just don't particularly want to."
Andrew sighs, "That's my point! I don't want to have sex with you if you don't want to."
"That's not what I mean, Andrew."
"Then tell me what you do mean," Andrew says quietly, moving the tempeh out of the pan and onto a plate, "because I honestly don't understand."
Jesse drops his forehead against Andrew's shoulder. Trying to explain what he is is like trying to find words for the way that water is wet. He knows without doubt what he feels, but the moment he tries to quantify it? The words are wrong and nothing seems right.
Water is wet to create friction. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because there's no reason not to. Water is wet because of the way water molecules interact with skin. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he trusts Andrew. Water is wet because it is a liquid. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because it's unfair to Andrew otherwise and he doesn't really mind having it. Water is wet because it is a solvent. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he wants to buy Andrew nice things. Water is wet because that is the nature of water, and if it were not wet then it would no longer be water. Jesse wants to have sex with Andrew because he is willing to compromise and that is the nature of love.
If he wasn't willing to compromise, then it wouldn't be love. It wouldn't be better by far than a metaphor, it wouldn't be a many-splendored thing, it wouldn't be a way to measure life.
"I want to do this for you because I love you," Jesse finally whispers, "Why do I need any reason besides that?"
"Oh, Jess. Jesse."
Andrew is twisting in Jesse's grip, turning to frame Jesse's face with soft fingers. He kisses Jesse like Jesse will cease to exist if they break apart, like if he lets go this moment will fade away like dust on wind, and Jesse can sort of see the appeal kissing might have. It's nice to be the sole focus of someone's attention, if a little overwhelming, and Jesse has to pull away. Has to try and make his lungs remember how to breathe.
Inhale, exhale. Take in oxygen, let out carbon dioxide.
Their foreheads are touching, and Andrew's eyes really do make him look like some sort of fantastic, unreal wildlife creature that close up. Andrew's lips are parted slightly, and he seems to be having just as much trouble breathing as Jesse is. Their breathing matches, and Jesse kind of likes that.
"I still don't really get it," Andrew confesses, "but I think that's okay. Promise me something, though."
"Anything."
"If you ever really don't want to do something, or you feel uncomfortable, or whatever. If you ever want to stop, just tell me. Don't make yourself miserable for my sake, okay?"
"I'll try not to," Jesse says, "but I can't really promise."
Andrew laughs, "Okay. That's good enough for me."
----
Postit-Notes: I have been assured that this is not terrible, so I am posting it now because if I don't post it now I will lose my nerve. (I didn't just pick the title at random, by the way. It's a reference to this.)
This entry originally posted here. Original entry currently has
comments. :D