seashell
Title: Jeopardizing Good Things (aka Kelly Doesn't Know Who The Fuck People Are to Save Her Life)
Pairing: Jon Walker/Tom Conrad
Rating: PG-15 (language, mentions of boytouching)
Prompt: seashell
Summary: Secretly, Jon wonders what it would be like to kiss Tom underwater.
Word Count: 1269
Disclaimer
Notes: For photoproof_kiss, for her 21st birthday. I am sorry to her (and everyone) that this is less good than I intended it to be.
There is no doubt in Jon's mind that this is where he and Tom are supposed to be. They are lying in this ditch on the side of the highway, and it's well past two in the morning, and the grass smells like dew.
They're also very high.
They've gone so, so many places this year. They've climbed rocks to see a sea city lights spanning out before them. They're driven far, far out of town to lie in fields of wheat. They talked for a while about driving out to the ocean. All those trips and would-be trips, those were for their cameras. Those were for the film they'd develop, the photographs they'd upload, the smiling faces frozen in an image they'd tuck away some place secret and safe.
This trip, this journey to a ditch on a highway, just hidden out of sight, this trip is for them. They haven't been this close in a long time. Tom is always busy playing or practising, or taking pictures of the Butcher's tattoos. Jon is always fixing something.
"I missed you," Jon says, looking at the other boy, and his dark hair is a mess, sticking up and damp from the grass.
"We haven't been apart in a month, Jon," Tom reminds him.
"Stay at my place tonight?"
"It wasn't like I wanted to be alone," Tom says, and he smiles. Jon smiles back. He knows Tom hates being alone. They both do. He reaches over wordlessly, taking the other man's hand in his own.
It's a perfect night.
----
They stumble into Jon's apartment some time past six and the sun is just starting to rise. Jon reaches out to help Tom as he struggles with the buttons on his plaid shirt, and the guitar tech is all soothing sounds when Tom finally gives up and lets him do it.
They strip down to their boxers and collapse in Jon's twin bed, a tangle of limbs and five-o-clock shadows and breath smelling faintly of pot and wine.
----
When Tom wakes up, he can smell coffee and feel that the bed next to him is conspicuously Jon-less. He groans quietly, rolls over. He can feel the bed sink down when someone sits on the other side of the bed. "Wake up," Jon says softly, setting something down with faint clinking, and touching Tom's hair.
Tom rolls over onto his back, getting himself firmly wound up in Jon's covers. He pauses, then looks up at the other man. "But your bed wants me to stay here." He doesn't want to get up.
Jon laughs. "Idiot. I brought coffee."
And then Tom notices the mugs on the bedside table, and he smiles and worms his way out from under the covers.
-----
They laze around the apartment all day, and talk about the ocean.
Tom wants to see its blues. Jon wants to see its endlessness. They agree that both things would be amazing.
----
Secretly, Jon wonders what it would be like to kiss Tom underwater.
(Tom wonders the same about Jon. But they are manly men, and while they're okay and cool with sleeping with guys, kissing your best friend is something you don't do. Why jeopardize a good thing?)
----
Jon finds out why you would jeopardize a good thing when he accidentally sees Tom in the shower. They'd both been drunk. Tom had wanted to be clean. He left the bathroom door open. Jon saw.
Jon saw an expanse of skin begging to be explored, lips begging to be kissed, closed eyes begging to be opened.
He turns away before Tom sees him.
Tom finds out why you would jeopardize a good thing the morning before, when he'd woken up before Jon - an unusual situation, to be sure - and had found the other man's arms curled around him.
And Tom thought, this should happen more often. Tom thought, Jon looks peaceful when he's sleeping.
(Tom also thought, I wonder what he looks like during sex and Those pyjama pants are loose on him, I could stick my hand down them and find out. Tom will never admit to those thoughts.)
----
When they finally kiss, the situation is less than ideal. It's just another Friday night, and they're out at some bar with some friends, crowding around a long table, shouting insults and trading digs. Jon gets up to buy another beer. When he comes back, Tom's got his lips on Andy's, and it's always Andy, so something inside Jon says, quite firmly, 'No.'
He goes back to the table, sets down his beer, taps Tom on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Can't it wait?" Tom asks, glancing at Butcher, trying to say, I haven't got laid in a week, I'm horny and I'm busy right now.
"No." Jon says, and drags Tom up, and up the narrow stairs out of the basement bar.
"What the fuck?" Tom explodes, as soon as they are on the street, complete with a little flailing motion.
Jon answers by shoving Tom against the brick wall and crushing their mouths together. He thanks god for Jack Daniels, without which he would never have had the balls to pull a stunt like this. He knows he's sexy (maybe, sometimes, if he tries) but he's no John Cusack.
When, he pulls back, Tom is breathless and wide-eyed. "What the fuck?" He says again, though this time he's just trying to get air back into his lungs. So Jon kisses him again, a little more gently, a little more delicacy in where on the other man's lips he places his nips and bites, and when he's done, Tom is a breathless mess yet again.
"Let's go home," he says, decisively, and Jon nods. He sends a quick text to one of the boys as they start down the street to his apartment.
-----
When they get there, they start kissing again, but this time Tom starts it, pulling Jon close to him so that Tom is pinned between the door and his body. And it's kind of ridiculous, but it only takes ten minutes for them to move from the door to the couch, and another twenty minutes of kissing and touching and gasping to get to the bed.
Jon pauses as he's pulling off Tom's jeans, their shirts forgotten somewhere in the living room. "What about our friendship?" He asks, sitting up a little.
Tom groans loudly, and glares up at Jon. "It's over if you don't finish what you fucking started," he grumbles, squirming a little bit. Jon smiles and kisses his hip, and thinks, yeah, they're gonna be just fine.
-----
Jon sits on the shore of this beach, just staring out over the blue water. He plays with the sand, waves washing over his feet. It's early morning. There's a hiss from the ocean as it washes back over grains of sand and seashells. The ocean seems endless, disappearing over the horizon with the curve of the world.
Tom comes and sits next to him. "Is it everything you thought it would be?" He asks softly.
Jon smiles and looks over at Tom. They've been together for a month now, not counting the two weeks they spent just making out and having sex at random, working up the nerve to decide that they could survive as more than friends. It was the best decision they'd ever made.
"Yeah." He answers. "It's amazing."
Tom smiles and reaches over for Jon's hand. They have two days to spend on this beach before going back to the city, which is grey and boxy and full of life and always changing. And when they come back to this beach, be it weeks or months or years from the morning they first sat there, it will still be blue and endless.
Pairing: Jon Walker/Tom Conrad
Rating: PG-15 (language, mentions of boytouching)
Prompt: seashell
Summary: Secretly, Jon wonders what it would be like to kiss Tom underwater.
Word Count: 1269
Disclaimer
Notes: For photoproof_kiss, for her 21st birthday. I am sorry to her (and everyone) that this is less good than I intended it to be.
There is no doubt in Jon's mind that this is where he and Tom are supposed to be. They are lying in this ditch on the side of the highway, and it's well past two in the morning, and the grass smells like dew.
They're also very high.
They've gone so, so many places this year. They've climbed rocks to see a sea city lights spanning out before them. They're driven far, far out of town to lie in fields of wheat. They talked for a while about driving out to the ocean. All those trips and would-be trips, those were for their cameras. Those were for the film they'd develop, the photographs they'd upload, the smiling faces frozen in an image they'd tuck away some place secret and safe.
This trip, this journey to a ditch on a highway, just hidden out of sight, this trip is for them. They haven't been this close in a long time. Tom is always busy playing or practising, or taking pictures of the Butcher's tattoos. Jon is always fixing something.
"I missed you," Jon says, looking at the other boy, and his dark hair is a mess, sticking up and damp from the grass.
"We haven't been apart in a month, Jon," Tom reminds him.
"Stay at my place tonight?"
"It wasn't like I wanted to be alone," Tom says, and he smiles. Jon smiles back. He knows Tom hates being alone. They both do. He reaches over wordlessly, taking the other man's hand in his own.
It's a perfect night.
----
They stumble into Jon's apartment some time past six and the sun is just starting to rise. Jon reaches out to help Tom as he struggles with the buttons on his plaid shirt, and the guitar tech is all soothing sounds when Tom finally gives up and lets him do it.
They strip down to their boxers and collapse in Jon's twin bed, a tangle of limbs and five-o-clock shadows and breath smelling faintly of pot and wine.
----
When Tom wakes up, he can smell coffee and feel that the bed next to him is conspicuously Jon-less. He groans quietly, rolls over. He can feel the bed sink down when someone sits on the other side of the bed. "Wake up," Jon says softly, setting something down with faint clinking, and touching Tom's hair.
Tom rolls over onto his back, getting himself firmly wound up in Jon's covers. He pauses, then looks up at the other man. "But your bed wants me to stay here." He doesn't want to get up.
Jon laughs. "Idiot. I brought coffee."
And then Tom notices the mugs on the bedside table, and he smiles and worms his way out from under the covers.
-----
They laze around the apartment all day, and talk about the ocean.
Tom wants to see its blues. Jon wants to see its endlessness. They agree that both things would be amazing.
----
Secretly, Jon wonders what it would be like to kiss Tom underwater.
(Tom wonders the same about Jon. But they are manly men, and while they're okay and cool with sleeping with guys, kissing your best friend is something you don't do. Why jeopardize a good thing?)
----
Jon finds out why you would jeopardize a good thing when he accidentally sees Tom in the shower. They'd both been drunk. Tom had wanted to be clean. He left the bathroom door open. Jon saw.
Jon saw an expanse of skin begging to be explored, lips begging to be kissed, closed eyes begging to be opened.
He turns away before Tom sees him.
Tom finds out why you would jeopardize a good thing the morning before, when he'd woken up before Jon - an unusual situation, to be sure - and had found the other man's arms curled around him.
And Tom thought, this should happen more often. Tom thought, Jon looks peaceful when he's sleeping.
(Tom also thought, I wonder what he looks like during sex and Those pyjama pants are loose on him, I could stick my hand down them and find out. Tom will never admit to those thoughts.)
----
When they finally kiss, the situation is less than ideal. It's just another Friday night, and they're out at some bar with some friends, crowding around a long table, shouting insults and trading digs. Jon gets up to buy another beer. When he comes back, Tom's got his lips on Andy's, and it's always Andy, so something inside Jon says, quite firmly, 'No.'
He goes back to the table, sets down his beer, taps Tom on the shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Can't it wait?" Tom asks, glancing at Butcher, trying to say, I haven't got laid in a week, I'm horny and I'm busy right now.
"No." Jon says, and drags Tom up, and up the narrow stairs out of the basement bar.
"What the fuck?" Tom explodes, as soon as they are on the street, complete with a little flailing motion.
Jon answers by shoving Tom against the brick wall and crushing their mouths together. He thanks god for Jack Daniels, without which he would never have had the balls to pull a stunt like this. He knows he's sexy (maybe, sometimes, if he tries) but he's no John Cusack.
When, he pulls back, Tom is breathless and wide-eyed. "What the fuck?" He says again, though this time he's just trying to get air back into his lungs. So Jon kisses him again, a little more gently, a little more delicacy in where on the other man's lips he places his nips and bites, and when he's done, Tom is a breathless mess yet again.
"Let's go home," he says, decisively, and Jon nods. He sends a quick text to one of the boys as they start down the street to his apartment.
-----
When they get there, they start kissing again, but this time Tom starts it, pulling Jon close to him so that Tom is pinned between the door and his body. And it's kind of ridiculous, but it only takes ten minutes for them to move from the door to the couch, and another twenty minutes of kissing and touching and gasping to get to the bed.
Jon pauses as he's pulling off Tom's jeans, their shirts forgotten somewhere in the living room. "What about our friendship?" He asks, sitting up a little.
Tom groans loudly, and glares up at Jon. "It's over if you don't finish what you fucking started," he grumbles, squirming a little bit. Jon smiles and kisses his hip, and thinks, yeah, they're gonna be just fine.
-----
Jon sits on the shore of this beach, just staring out over the blue water. He plays with the sand, waves washing over his feet. It's early morning. There's a hiss from the ocean as it washes back over grains of sand and seashells. The ocean seems endless, disappearing over the horizon with the curve of the world.
Tom comes and sits next to him. "Is it everything you thought it would be?" He asks softly.
Jon smiles and looks over at Tom. They've been together for a month now, not counting the two weeks they spent just making out and having sex at random, working up the nerve to decide that they could survive as more than friends. It was the best decision they'd ever made.
"Yeah." He answers. "It's amazing."
Tom smiles and reaches over for Jon's hand. They have two days to spend on this beach before going back to the city, which is grey and boxy and full of life and always changing. And when they come back to this beach, be it weeks or months or years from the morning they first sat there, it will still be blue and endless.