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Entry tags:
Confession
Title: Confession
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack 'fesses up.
Notes: Dumb boys being dumb. Let me know if there's anything amiss.
AU: 'Fess Up
The party was a good one but Jack felt discontented all the same. He'd been feeling lit up all week, knife-blade bright and edgy, and he'd hoped the party would help, all the noise and the fun, the weed and the booze, good friends and good times and loud, loud music. But it wasn't working this time. Something was trying to get out, itching under the surface of his skin, and he didn't know what it was.
He grabbed a beer and went outside, down the long stone pathway to the family's private beach. It was nice and quiet down there, the moonlight smoothing the ocean, a breeze sweeping past him and up the cliff.
Much easier to think there. Jack stripped off his shoes and socks and left them at the edge of the path, then walked barefoot out on the beach, his feet sinking ankle-deep into cool sand. Halfway to the surf he sat down, careless of his pants, and popped the beer open, but did not drink it. Instead he stared out at the night-dark sea and thought.
What exactly he was thinking about, now there was a puzzle. The ocean's dull roar in his ears, the taste of salt on the back of his tongue. His sisters, occasionally. Felix, of course, always Felix.
As if the thought had summoned him, there was a dip in the sand beside him, a hand on his back. "You okay?"
If it had been anyone else he would have been startled, but Felix felt like so much a part of him that it hardly even registered. "Hey," he said, leaning back into the pressure of Felix's hand. "I'm fine."
"You're out here all on your own," Felix said, and it didn't sound reproving, just concerned.
Jack shrugged. "Needed to think. What brings you down here?"
"Got tired of lying about books I haven't read."
Jack laughed and turned to face him, offering the beer with a tilt of his head. Felix shook his head and wrapped his arms around his knees, drawing them up from his cross-legged seat until they hung off his arms. "This time," he went on, "it was One Hundred Years of Solitude. I feel like a bad Latino."
"Well, you're gay," Jack said, philosophically. "I think sleeping with men makes us both bad Latinos."
Felix laughed, and put his arm around Jack's shoulders. "Might do, at that."
He leaned into Felix's warmth, the beer dangling loosely from his hand, and the itching faded. It always felt like that, around Felix, comfortable and easy. Like everything was okay.
"I love you," he said, almost randomly, except it wasn't random at all.
Felix paused with his whole body, muscles freezing, breath stopping. Jack's stomach sank, except then he relaxed, and asked, "Are you drunk?"
"What?" Jack nearly straightened in offense, but he was far too comfortable. "No!"
"Okay," Felix said, "but you tell people you love them when you're drunk."
Now that did offend him. "I do not. I kiss people when I'm drunk. Love is a whole different thing."
"Well," Felix said, and then, "All right. I love you too. I love all my friends."
Jack nearly headbutted him out of exasperation. He did thump the back of his head against Felix's shoulder. "Really? You're gonna take it that way? I don't mean like a friend, I mean I love you. Jesus."
There was a long silence, so long that Jack lost the annoyance and straightened up, uneasy and frightened. If he'd fucked this up-- well, it was inevitable, he fucked everything up, but it would still hurt so goddamn much. If Felix didn't want to be friends anymore...
It was too dark to read Felix's expression. He looked away, out at the ocean, and gulped his beer.
Finally, finally, Felix made a noise, an odd sort of half-sob, half-laugh. "You idiot," he said. "Okay. Fine. I love you too, and I don't mean like a friend. We cool?"
Jack laughed, exhausted, and went right back to leaning into him, because he was so comfortable there. "We cool," he said, smiling helplessly. "So, Felix."
"Yeah?" Felix asked, and there was a suppressed laughter in his own voice.
"You want to go out sometime?"
"I'd love to," he answered, and Jack felt warm right down to his toes.
Rating: PG
Summary: Jack 'fesses up.
Notes: Dumb boys being dumb. Let me know if there's anything amiss.
AU: 'Fess Up
The party was a good one but Jack felt discontented all the same. He'd been feeling lit up all week, knife-blade bright and edgy, and he'd hoped the party would help, all the noise and the fun, the weed and the booze, good friends and good times and loud, loud music. But it wasn't working this time. Something was trying to get out, itching under the surface of his skin, and he didn't know what it was.
He grabbed a beer and went outside, down the long stone pathway to the family's private beach. It was nice and quiet down there, the moonlight smoothing the ocean, a breeze sweeping past him and up the cliff.
Much easier to think there. Jack stripped off his shoes and socks and left them at the edge of the path, then walked barefoot out on the beach, his feet sinking ankle-deep into cool sand. Halfway to the surf he sat down, careless of his pants, and popped the beer open, but did not drink it. Instead he stared out at the night-dark sea and thought.
What exactly he was thinking about, now there was a puzzle. The ocean's dull roar in his ears, the taste of salt on the back of his tongue. His sisters, occasionally. Felix, of course, always Felix.
As if the thought had summoned him, there was a dip in the sand beside him, a hand on his back. "You okay?"
If it had been anyone else he would have been startled, but Felix felt like so much a part of him that it hardly even registered. "Hey," he said, leaning back into the pressure of Felix's hand. "I'm fine."
"You're out here all on your own," Felix said, and it didn't sound reproving, just concerned.
Jack shrugged. "Needed to think. What brings you down here?"
"Got tired of lying about books I haven't read."
Jack laughed and turned to face him, offering the beer with a tilt of his head. Felix shook his head and wrapped his arms around his knees, drawing them up from his cross-legged seat until they hung off his arms. "This time," he went on, "it was One Hundred Years of Solitude. I feel like a bad Latino."
"Well, you're gay," Jack said, philosophically. "I think sleeping with men makes us both bad Latinos."
Felix laughed, and put his arm around Jack's shoulders. "Might do, at that."
He leaned into Felix's warmth, the beer dangling loosely from his hand, and the itching faded. It always felt like that, around Felix, comfortable and easy. Like everything was okay.
"I love you," he said, almost randomly, except it wasn't random at all.
Felix paused with his whole body, muscles freezing, breath stopping. Jack's stomach sank, except then he relaxed, and asked, "Are you drunk?"
"What?" Jack nearly straightened in offense, but he was far too comfortable. "No!"
"Okay," Felix said, "but you tell people you love them when you're drunk."
Now that did offend him. "I do not. I kiss people when I'm drunk. Love is a whole different thing."
"Well," Felix said, and then, "All right. I love you too. I love all my friends."
Jack nearly headbutted him out of exasperation. He did thump the back of his head against Felix's shoulder. "Really? You're gonna take it that way? I don't mean like a friend, I mean I love you. Jesus."
There was a long silence, so long that Jack lost the annoyance and straightened up, uneasy and frightened. If he'd fucked this up-- well, it was inevitable, he fucked everything up, but it would still hurt so goddamn much. If Felix didn't want to be friends anymore...
It was too dark to read Felix's expression. He looked away, out at the ocean, and gulped his beer.
Finally, finally, Felix made a noise, an odd sort of half-sob, half-laugh. "You idiot," he said. "Okay. Fine. I love you too, and I don't mean like a friend. We cool?"
Jack laughed, exhausted, and went right back to leaning into him, because he was so comfortable there. "We cool," he said, smiling helplessly. "So, Felix."
"Yeah?" Felix asked, and there was a suppressed laughter in his own voice.
"You want to go out sometime?"
"I'd love to," he answered, and Jack felt warm right down to his toes.